by Mandy Baggot
And then Julien ended the kiss. Ava opened her eyes, blinking, almost scared she had imagined the whole thing. Julien was looking back at her, his fingers at the camera still around his neck, body language giving off mixed signals.
‘Did I break it?’ she asked on a breath.
Confusion coated his expression as he looked back at her. ‘What?’
‘Your camera,’ she said. ‘You know... when I threw myself at you like a desperate ex-model pretending to be Anne Hathaway.’
He shook his head. ‘No... to both things.’
‘Good,’ Ava said. ‘Because we should... we can forget that ever happened. I mean, it was just a moment. I blame the love locks.’
‘You do?’ Julien asked her.
‘Don’t you?’
‘Non,’ he answered. ‘I blame the fact I have not been able to take my eyes off you from the moment we met.’
40
Julien couldn’t believe he had said that out loud. What was he thinking? Why had he let himself kiss her? He had wanted to... more than anything... but... it wasn’t right. Ava didn’t need the complication of a romance for numerous reasons she had spelled out to him since they had met... and he wasn’t ready either.
‘Oh,’ Ava answered. ‘Really?’
He nodded, despite his internal protestations. ‘I do not know if it was your hair or your eyes or the way you hated me with such passion when we first met but—’
‘This is a bad idea though, isn’t it?’
He swallowed. She was right, of course, he thought so himself, but the words pinched all the same. And how did he respond?
‘Would it help if I tell you I believe, in life, there is no such thing as a bad idea. Only ideas that work and ideas that do not.’
‘I’m not sure that does help,’ she answered.
‘What if I tell you I do not want to hurt you.’ He swallowed.
‘What if I said you are thinking about things too deeply again.’
‘Madonna...’
‘Monsieur Fitoussi.’
She had lifted her head up to meet his gaze again, her jaw set to defiant and all he wanted to do was take that petite frame into his arms and never let anything bad touch her. And that was half of his conflict. He couldn’t promise her that. Life was life. And he was still so at odds with it.
‘We should go,’ he said, the chill of the wind finally making it through to his bones. ‘Find somewhere for another coffee, no?’
The look on her face said he had already hurt her by making such a feeble response. ‘Ava...’ he tried again.
‘You should put your hat back on,’ she said, pressing the wool to his hand.
* * *
The route they had taken up to the summit of the tower seemed twice as long coming back down again. Ava felt stupid. She didn’t know what to say to Julien. The first person who really seemed to get her and she had buggered it up by kissing him. To be fair he had kissed her back but now, at least a foot between them on the descent, even small talk was difficult. She wished she could take back the kiss... the best kiss she’d ever had... one that had made her toes curl and her head fizz.
‘I am concerned about my father,’ Julien spoke, continuing to step downwards.
He had moved the conversation on. It was for the best. ‘He isn’t well?’ she asked.
‘No... it is not an illness... well, perhaps it is.’ He sighed. ‘Ava, my whole family has not dealt with Lauren’s death very well. My father, the one who pretends to be strong and untouchable... he is not coping and I worry for my step-mother,’ he admitted.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I would like my exhibition to take place before the wedding.’
Her jaw dropped then and she gripped the rail of the stairs. ‘You told me the wedding is on Christmas Eve.’
‘D’accord.’
‘But if you plan to put something together and advertise it and get lots of people there you’re going to need more than a week.’ She leant against the barrier as tourists filed past them.
‘I want to do this for Vivienne and my father. To try to get our family back in one piece before the wedding,’ he said. ‘A new start for us all.’
She swallowed. Of course that’s what he wanted. Because he was a nice person who had so much more going on in his life than her and a kiss he hadn’t asked for.
‘Well, you know I’ll help,’ Ava said. ‘In between trying to find out if my best friend’s step-dad is a philanderer.’ She gave him a half-smile.
‘I have skills on social media, you know,’ Ava said, taking another tentative step downwards. ‘And Debs has loads of contacts at magazines... most of them are in the UK but it’s only a Eurostar stop away and I’m sure there’s a few favours she can try and pull in for some shout-outs in art magazines in particular.’
‘You think she would help me?’ Julien asked.
‘Of course! You’re helping her by taking photos for your articles aren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ he answered.
‘There we go then.’
* * *
He nodded. He hated this. He didn’t want to be talking about her helping with the exhibition. He wanted to be talking about how it had felt to kiss her. The last flight of stairs was just coming up. What happened then?
‘So, I’ll go back to the hotel now and I’ll tell Debs what you want to do and... do you have a venue yet?’
He didn’t have anything yet. He had hoped Diane’s gallery would have space but she was fully booked. He shook his head.
‘Well, if Paris is anything like London, this close to Christmas, everything is going to be booked,’ Ava stated.
‘Yes,’ he sighed. ‘Perhaps it is impossible.’
‘Aren’t you the man who told me I could be anything I want to be? That anything is possible?’ Ava asked, smiling. ‘There are only things that are easy and things that are more difficult.’
‘If you believed that, Madonna, you would believe in magic,’ he reminded her.
‘Well,’ she began, descending the final steps onto the ground. ‘Perhaps I am coming around to the idea.’
He stepped off the final stair behind her and set his feet onto the snow. ‘I am glad to hear that.’
She was looking at him now, bright hair sprinkled with snowflakes, cheeks flushed from the descent and the sharp wind, green eyes shining, lips pink. The taste of her mouth flooded his as he watched her, his insides quaking, hinting that, internally, putting his feelings aside wasn’t going to be easy.
‘Thank you for bringing me here.’
‘You are welcome,’ he answered. ‘I got some good shots.’
‘So, shall we meet tomorrow?’ she suggested. ‘To talk through the exhibition?’
‘Tomorrow,’ he agreed.
‘OK, Monsieur Fitoussi. I will text you.’
She turned away, ready to leave, and the concern that there was this slight awkwardness between them made him call out.
‘Ava.’
She turned back, beautiful cat-like eyes appraising him. He swallowed. There was so much he wanted to say. So much his body was telling him to do. ‘You should put on your hat,’ he offered.
She smiled. ‘You’re right,’ she replied. ‘Someone told me it’s very important.’
He watched her dig her hand into the pocket of her coat and pull out the red beanie. She slipped it over her spikes and he stepped forward, his fingers pulling at the wool and rearranging her hair underneath it. His hands lingered a little on her skin and he stepped back again.
‘See you tomorrow,’ Ava said, waving a hand.
‘À bientôt.’
He watched her turn away from him and as she did so there was something on the ground where she had been standing. He bent down, retrieving the piece of paper before the snow wetted it any more. It was lined paper, slightly ripped at the bottom and he turned it over to just see one line of writing.
7. Climb the Eiffel Tower and kiss a random man at the top of it
41
Hotel Agincourt
Ava pushed the key card into the door and watched the red light flash again. This time, the third time of trying, she hammered on the door with her fists.
‘Debs! It’s me! The sodding key card won’t work! Can you let me in?’
There was no response but, putting her ear to the door, she was sure someone was in there. She sniffed. Was that smoke she could smell? She hammered again. Surely if it was a fire, some detector would be going off already.
‘Debs!’
The door was whipped open and there was Didier, wearing nothing but one of the white Hotel Agincourt towels around his waist. ‘Bonsoir!’
Ava slapped her hands over her eyes. ‘Now I really want there to be a fire.’
‘Come in,’ Didier invited. ‘Debs, she is very busy.’
‘Invited into my own room... wow... thank you.’ Ava stepped past the Frenchman and into a grey fog. She coughed, the scent of heavy perfume strangling her lungs. Squinting she saw Debs sat at the table by the window, fingers hammering at her laptop, two glowing incense sticks and the flashing and vibrating snowman also present. Debs waved a hand but didn’t speak, fingers working over the keys like she was setting up a code to solve all EU problems.
‘She had emails,’ Didier announced, like he was delivering a royal decree.
‘That’s nice. What are Paperchase offering in their pre-Christmas sale now?’
‘From Nigel,’ Didier stated, wide-eyed, chest expanding.
‘I have no idea who “Nigel” is and’ – she turned to face Didier – ‘was this before or after you took all your clothes off?’
Didier grinned. ‘The first one a little before, the second one sometime after.’
Ava shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t have asked.’ She threw her hat down on the bed and attempted to move across the room. Didier caught her arm, the other hand securing his towel. ‘You must not disturb her.’
‘What? Are you joking?’ Ava asked. ‘I’ve only been out for a few hours. This morning I left her heading to a singles coffee afternoon and ready to carry on buying tacky presents for her whole extended family, now she’s battering her computer through a mist that smells like Katie Perry’s last perfume.’
‘I tell you,’ Didier whispered, ‘she is busy. She has emails... from Nigel.’
‘That means nothing to me! You may as well be speaking French!’ Ava exclaimed.
All she really wanted to do was lie down and let her mind stop for five minutes. Here she feared if she lay down she would become a victim of death by incense inhalation.
‘It’s OK, Didier,’ Debs called, eyes still firmly fixed on her screen.
Ava turned her head to what she could see of her friend. Was that a Father Christmas hairband she was wearing? And a jumper embroidered with liquorice allsorts?
‘When I got back here from Cosmos and met Didier I had an email from Nigel.’
‘Farage?’ Ava asked.
‘No,’ Debs said, still tapping away. ‘Nigel from Diversity magazine!’ She drew in a breath, finally shifting a little in her seat and turning to Ava. ‘You won’t believe it, Ava, but he’s offered me a job!’
‘Oh my God! That’s fantastic!’ She was thrilled for Debs. This was the turnaround her friend needed. And it also sounded as though her thoughts were far away from hacking Francine’s email account. ‘So, you’re putting a few ideas things together accompanied by eau de yoga retreat?’
‘Not quite,’ Debs answered.
‘I’m sensing this good news has a payback,’ Ava said.
‘I need to get him these articles to him a little quicker than I had anticipated.’
‘I don’t know all that much about magazines but I do know they have tight deadlines,’ Ava said.
‘You are right,’ Didier chipped in, hands on hips.
‘Please, put some clothes on,’ Ava begged.
‘I have to have these to Nigel by five o’ clock tomorrow.’
‘What?!’
‘And I don’t have nearly enough time to make them good enough and I really, really need this job, Ava.’
‘I know, but... what does that mean? You won’t be able to come to dinner? You won’t be able to leave this room?’ She wanted to leave this room. She felt like she was being asphyxiated.
‘All of the above, I’m afraid, times a thousand,’ Debs answered. ‘And there’s more... I need a favour.’
Ava bit her lip. Whatever is was she had to say yes. Debs had got her out of London, away from her mother, put her up at her home more times than she could count, had plied her with wine when things got tough, done her hair when she had hair to do...
‘Go on,’ Ava said.
‘You will like this,’ Didier announced, splaying his arms out. ‘I like this!’
‘Are you still here?’ Ava asked, turning her attention to the half-naked Frenchman.
Didier smiled and headed off in the direction of the bathroom. Ava waited until she could hear the shower running before she faced her friend again.
‘What do you need?’ Ava asked, plumping down on the edge of the bed. She crossed her fingers, hoping this didn’t involve putting a tracking device on Francine’s car.
‘Well,’ Debs said, ‘Nigel doesn’t just want singles, he wants couples too. We are talking a six-page spread here, Ava. So, allegedly... according to the internet and everyone I’ve called this afternoon who has knowledge of these things… the most romantic thing for couples to do in Paris is a dinner cruise on the Seine.’
Ava’s stomach started to bubble as a cold dread started to weave its way around her. She could sense where this was going. She had to hope she was wrong.
‘I’ve booked you on one tonight.’
‘With Didier?’
‘No, not with Didier, with Julien. Didier is going to be out researching the gay scene for me. I can’t just write about heterosexual singles in the city, can I?’
‘You do know Didier’s not gay.’
Debs smiled. ‘Of course I know that. Why do you think he answered the door in a towel?’
Ava coughed, the incense smoke making her eyes sting.
‘He has a lot of gay friends who are going to help him research a couple of the bars and clubs tonight.’
‘What about Francine?’ Ava asked. ‘You sent me a text about some gala thingy you wanted to spy on her at.’
‘Francine is going to have to wait,’ Debs said. ‘This is the job of my dreams. If my family is about to be blown apart at least let it happen when I’m in secure employment.’
‘Are you sure, Debs?’ Ava asked softly, the words ‘Francine, the other night was amazing’ going through her mind.
Debs looked up, eyes a little teary. ‘I can’t think about that right now.’
Ava squeezed Debs’ shoulder and tried to drag her thoughts to where Debs wanted them: the romantic cruise she had just booked with Julien, the man she had kissed at the top of the Eiffel Tower and then pretended it hadn’t mattered.
‘You do remember Julien and I aren’t a couple,’ she said. ‘And he might not be free tonight.’
‘Didier’s messaged him.’
‘And he said it was OK?’ Did she want the answer to be yes or no? It was too soon to be put in a situation like that, wasn’t it? Or perhaps it was the perfect time. They could throw themselves into Debs’ research and talk about the photography exhibition and forget the kiss had ever happened. Just good friends was safest. But then again, that kiss... and what he had said about not being able to take his eyes off her! Perhaps this date that wasn’t a date could be a chance to test the romantic waters.
‘I’m sure he will,’ Debs said. She checked her watch. ‘You have an hour.’
‘What?! With a Frenchman hogging the shower?! I don’t know if I c
an...’
‘Ava, this means so much to me. A permanent job... at Diversity. They’re new, they’re funky, they’re going places... and they could take me places too.’ Debs swallowed. ‘And if things go bad for Mum and Gary it’s a guaranteed monthly income.’ Her voice had wobbled at the end. ‘I’m not meant to be thinking about that now... every time I do my creativeness just dries up.’
Ava nodded. ‘You know I’m going to do it. It’s just... if Julien doesn’t come along I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb.’
Debs grinned. ‘If Julien doesn’t go for it then eat and drink as much as you can and listen to other people’s conversations... and take lots of photos.’ Debs sighed. ‘The boat is going to be full of couples. All I need is a taste of the ambience, a flavour of the romance... and I can fill in how much, what time and the map from the website.’
‘And what are you going to be doing while I’m in the middle of the hand-holding capital of Europe?’
‘I’m going to have steam coming out of my ears trying to write the best articles I’ve ever written.’ She held aloft her cup. ‘You think this is tea?’
42
Julien Fitoussi’s apartment
Julien stared at the text on his phone, then his eyes went back to the piece of paper he had pressed flat on his desk. Showered, wearing fresh black jeans, he was sat in front of his laptop, the light of his desk lamp highlighting Ava’s words.
7. Climb the Eiffel Tower and kiss a random man at the top of it
He shook his head. It kicked him every time he reread it and what was worst of all, he knew it shouldn’t matter so much. They had both agreed it had been a moment that meant nothing. But it had meant something to him. It had meant a lot of things. That he had the ability to feel again. That he was thinking of something else other than Lauren and what they had both been through. That he was beyond Monique.