They found a spot in the sunshine near a waterlily-covered lake and sat down to eat their meal.
‘This was a terrific idea, Antoine. I love picnics.’ She washed down her bread and cheese with a slug of wine. ‘This cheese is delicious.’
‘From Normandy,’ he said, his expression smug. ‘Like all good things.’
Jasmine ignored him. ‘Everywhere’s so much more beautiful when the sun shines.’ She leaned back against the trunk of a tree, extending her legs out in front of her. ‘Are you entering anything for the Médaille d’Or?’
‘No point. I haven’t a chance.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘It’s a foregone conclusion. Giancarlo will win if anyone in our class does. But more likely someone from another atelier will.’
‘That’s so defeatist, Antoine. Surely you have a piece to put in? It’s not fair to whoe
