The Second-Worst Restaurant in France by Smith Alexander McCall

Author:Smith, Alexander McCall [Smith, Alexander McCall]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Humour, Contemporary, Adult, Travel
ISBN: 9781524748296
Amazon: 1524748293
Goodreads: 42590640
Publisher: Pantheon
Published: 2019-07-16T07:00:00+00:00

8

Jambon des Voleurs

The birth of Audette’s baby had taken place on the day after Paul’s unfortunate dinner at La Table de St. Vincent. Although a few days late, the baby had arrived with extraordinary alacrity once the process had started—so much so, in fact, that there was no time to usher Audette out of the kitchen. Claude telephoned for the midwife, who arrived just in time. The restaurant was full, and he and his nephew struggled to keep a semblance of normality, with Hugo assuming the role of waiter. There was no note of who had ordered what, though, as Audette’s scribbles in her notebook were intelligible only to her.

“Table four?” Hugo bent down to ask her. “Are they the fish or the meat?”

From beneath waves of labour pain, Audette grunted some response.

“She’s having a baby,” shouted Claude. “Leave her alone, for God’s sake.”

“I was only asking,” protested Hugo. “You never praise what I do. I’m always wrong. You’re always yelling at me.”

“Because you don’t ask somebody who’s having a baby whether somebody ordered fish or meat,” snapped Claude. “Use your brain, Hugo—for a change.”

Hugo stood quite still, glaring at his uncle. Behind him, lying flat on the floor, her face contorted with the pain of labour, lay Audette.

The midwife arrived, bustling in with her air of confident competence. “Get a newspaper,” she ordered Hugo.

“Figaro or Libération?” asked Hugo.

The midwife gave him a scathing look. “This is no time for jokes,” she said.

Claude came to his nephew’s defence. “He wasn’t trying to be funny,” he said. “He’s just a bit unfocused, if you get my meaning.”

Hugo pouted. “Unfocused? Is that what you think? Well, in that case…”

He took off his apron and flung it down on the ground. “There are plenty of other jobs,” he spat.

The baby was now arriving. Audette let out a scream. In the dining room, people sat at their tables, transfixed by the noises from the kitchen. When Hugo appeared from the kitchen, he addressed the nearest table. “There is a baby being born through there. Expect a delay.” Without waiting for a response, he left the room. One of the diners signalled to him; another shouted out to enquire when his order would be ready. Hugo ignored both, slamming the door on his way out.

Claude appeared from the kitchen. “Mesdames and messieurs,” he began. “Due to factors beyond my control, I shall have to ask you to leave.”

A man asked him whether everything was under control. “Would you like us to call an ambulance, monsieur?”

Claude shook his head. “There is no need.”

A further scream came from the kitchen.

“Are you sure?” asked a woman at another table.

Claude made a reassuring gesture. “Perfectly sure, madame. There is no need to disturb yourselves. Please leave without delay. There are no bills to be paid.”

The diners began to make their way out. There were murmurs and anxious looks directed towards the kitchen. Before the room emptied, a baby’s cry could be heard.

“Thank God,” muttered a woman, one of the last customers to leave.

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