“Can I help you, monsieur?” said Mme. Dimanche as she leaned out of her first floor window.
“Madame. Do you know an Amanda Sorensen?” Arnaud pleaded.
“Why yes. She’s my tenant. Who are you?”
“I’m... I’m a friend, madame. I heard she... is she in? Can you let me in, please?”
“Oh no, monsieur. I can’t possibly do that. She went out with a friend. Do you have her number?”
Arnaud wanted to shout and kick something, but kept his cool. “I’m worried about my friend, madame. Could you let me know when she gets back?”
The old woman smiled. “You mean could I spy on her for you?”
“I don’t need to know details. Please, she had an... an accident a while ago and I’m worried. I could give you my cellphone number. All I want to know is that she’s alright. Could you do that for me, madame...?”
“It’s Antoinette,” Mme. Dimanche smiled shyly.
Arnaud felt weak with relief. He took out his card and waved it at the woman. “My name’s Arnaud. I’ll just stick it here in the door, alright, mada... eh Antoinette? I’m not asking you to tell me when she gets back or anything like that. Just let me know if she’s fine. Can you do that for me, please, ma... Antoinette?” He flashed her his best charming smile.
Mme. Dimanche heaved a sigh at the thought of young love. “We’ll see, monsieur. We’ll see.”
But Arnaud could tell from her blush that he had made an ally. “You’re wonderful, Antoinette!” He blew a kiss at her. “I owe you. Bye!”
Arnaud’s limo hadn’t moved more than twenty yards before hands took the calling card slipped beneath the building’s main entrance.
Chapter 8
“I wish I could make you smile again,” Nanette said as she bent over some plant.
Amanda was squinting into a microscope examining soil samples, but that statement made her gape at her assistant’s back. Nanette had never been anything but polite to her. More than that, nothing. The girl seemed determined to maintain some sort of professional distance between them, so her statement came as a surprise.
“Where did that come from, Nanette?”
The younger woman shrugged as she continued to keep her back to Amanda. “It’s just that... you always used to smile. It made me feel happy to come in. But lately,” she shrugged. “Is it because you’re no longer getting flowers?”
Amanda sighed as she stretched her back. “Actually, that’s a good thing.” And she meant it. The flowers had stopped coming a few weeks ago. On the day it did, the receptionist had greeted her with a shrug and his hands in the air to make a ‘nothing today’ gesture.
Nanette turned around and gave her a puzzled look.
“I still don’t know who they came from. And it bothered me. It was sort of... I don’t know. Creepy.”
“Creepy?”
“Kind of scary, disturbing.”
“Is that why you don’t smile anymore? Because you’re scared?”
“No. That’s not why.” Amanda was about to tell her assistant to mind her own business, but the woman’s concern seemed genuine and she didn’t want to put her off. It’s not as if she had a lot of friends in the city.
“Is it because of that man who used to have lunch with you? The one who would pick you up sometimes?”
Damn! This girl notices everything! Amanda was about to deny it aloud, but her breath caught in her throat.
“I understand,” Nanette nodded as she returned to her plant samples. “You know, here in France, affairs are normal.”
Amanda stiffened. She’d heard that spiel before, but wasn’t buying it. “Perhaps. But I don’t like it.”
Nanette focused on her project for several more silent minutes so Amanda thought the conversation was over. She began taking notes when Nanette landed her the equivalent of a slap. “Is it really better to be alone?”
Amanda glared at her trainee for several long moments, to no avail. The woman simply refused to turn around and face her. It gave Amanda time to catch her breath and compose herself. “I’d prefer it, yes.”
Silence hung over the room for a good long while.
*****
“What’s wrong, luv?” Savitri huffed as she tried to catch up with Amanda. “And will you puh-lease slow down!? Not all of us are fitness buffs, hey?”
“Sorry. Even my trainee’s getting into the ‘it’s normal for Frenchmen to cheat on their wives’ spiel, and I’m getting seriously sick and tired of it. Why can’t people just mind their own business?”
“Well, maybe it’s because they’re getting tired of seeing you mope around all the time.”
Amanda froze “I don’t mope!”
Savitri made a moping face. “Well, if you say so. But you look like this all the time!” Ooh, woe is me, ooh, my life is so tragic. ”
“Do not!”
“Do too!” Savitri laughed. “Look Mandy, can we just get home? I’m freezing here! See the dark skin? My ancestors evolved in the baking deserts and steaming jungles of Asia. Have some pity!” She grabbed Amanda’s arm to keep her from walking faster.
“You’ll warm up if you actually walk faster.”
“Oh shut up and just keep walking. Slower! And can I make a suggestion?”
“When have I ever been able to stop you, Sav?”
“Isn’t it about time you admit you like, you know who? I mean, I know it’s over. So what’s the harm in at least admitting it to yourself? You don’t even have to admit it to me. Might help you finally get him out of your system if you do that.”
“I’m not in love with him.”
“Then why so depressed? And one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“When have you ever been able to lie to your old girl, Sav?”
“Remind me again why we’re friends?”
“Atta girl. It’s a start, at least.”
The two parted ways on their way home, but Amanda wasn’t in the mood to go back to her place, just yet. It was early December, but the snow hadn’t yet come to cover all of Paris’ dirt and grime. They said it rarely ever snowed in December, that it usually came only in January. A Christmas without snow felt very strange to her, but so did the thought of being alone. Savitri hated the cold, but Amanda had always loved it. It made her feel alive.
“Hiya Mandz.”
She froze.
“Fancy meeting you like this, eh? Hey! Where you going?”
Amanda turned back the way she came and kept on walking. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she needed to get as far away from him as she could.
“Mandz! Oh come on, luv!”
Time stood still as the blood boiled through her. “Don’t you dare call me luv!”
“Mandz...”
“The name is Amanda,” she said with icy calm as she continued walking. “Let go of me!”
Richie had grabbed her by the arm but backed off when she snapped. People were staring at the couple, so Amanda kept walking. She hated attracting attention.
“Look, Man... ok, Amanda. I’ll keep my distance, ok? I just want to talk.”
Amanda ignored him as she continued her brisk pace, not an easy thing to do given the crush of people shopping for the upcoming holidays. She passed Savitri’s place but didn’t want Richie to know where her friend lived, so she kept on walking when something he said suddenly registered.
“What’s that about keeping your distance!?” she hissed. “You’ve been the one sending me flowers, haven’t you?”
He looked down, blushing. “I was trying to say sorry. I... yeah. I didn’t know how else to do it. If I put a note, saying: ‘I’m really sorry. Love, Richie,’ I knew you’d throw them away. And... And once I got started, I just couldn’t stop.”
“Richie? How long have you been here in Paris?”
“Not long.”
She shook her head. “Bullocks. Because how did you know my address?” Her eyes widened. “You’ve been spying on me!”
�
��No!”
She crossed her arms and glared up at him. She hated being only five feet seven inches and just about shorter than everyone else... except Savitri, of course. Richie stood almost six feet tall, so she had to crane her neck up to meet his gaze.
Arnaud’s six three, came the smug voice of her evil twin. Amanda told her to stuff it. “I’m waiting, Rich!”
He scratched the back of his neck as he fidgeted. Surrendering to the inevitable, he took a deep breath. “Yeah, all right. I work here now.”
“And you’ve been following me!?”
“No!”
She kept her arms folded. Then she tapped her foot for good measure.
“I knew you worked at the MNHN because your mum said so.”
“My mum!?”
“Well, no. At least not to me. She was over at that curry place with Mrs. Ling? And they were talking about you.”
Amanda shook her head. “And then what? You found out where I work so you dropped everything to come here?”
Richie looked away and scratched his neck again. “Well, no. I got transferred to our Paris branch.”
“And Jada?”
He shrugged. “It was all a big mistake, Mandz! I wasn’t thinking!”
“I see. But that still doesn’t explain how you knew my address unless you’ve been following me.”
“Amanda, I...” he shrugged. “I really messed up, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to.”
“Didn’t mean to what, Richie?” He couldn’t talk. “I want to hear you say it!” People started looking their way again, but Amanda didn’t care.
“I’m sorry I cheated on you, Mandz.”
“What else, Richie!?”
“For cancelling our wedding.”
“And do you want to make it up to me, Richie!?”
He looked at her wide-eyed. Hope was beginning to dawn in him. There was a chance!
“You make it up to me by staying the heck away from me. I don’t ever want to see or speak with you ever again. Understand, Richie!?”
“Mandz!”
“It’s Amanda Sorensen to you!”
She was surprised to see him look so deflated. For the last year, she’d imagined just such a scenario. He begged and pleaded for her forgiveness while she blew him off. Sometimes, she was cruel. At others, she took the moral high ground and actually forgave him but refused to take him back, forcing him to beg and plead yet again.
And here it was – her fantasies of revenge made flesh. So how come you’re still glum? Rejoice! Kick him in the balls, ha haaah! Amanda told her evil twin sister to shut up.
Amanda felt confused. She thought she’d achieved closure when she crossed the English Channel to move to France. She was still angry at Richie for betraying her, still felt humiliated at having invited friends and family to a wedding that never happened.
Hurt him some more! raged her twin. You know you want to.
A loud crash made her jump. A car had just smashed into the rear side of another, ripping off part of its fender. The crowds around them had a new spectacle to ogle at, leaving Amanda and Richie in obscurity, once more.
What’s the matter with you!? He hurt you! Now hurt him back! Hurt him!
“Just like those cars, eh?” Amanda said aloud.
“What was that?”
Amanda shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, anymore. Richie. Just leave me alone. Thanks for the flowers, but...” she sighed. “It just... it just really doesn’t matter anymore.” She walked off, framing expletives in case he followed.
He didn’t.
In her fantasies, he had followed her on hands and knees with tears in his eyes while she walked on with a smug smile on her face. Sometimes, he crawled on broken glass while she chuckled and walked off with an adoring David Beckham at her side.
Just before she’d left for France, her fantasies had changed. In them, she’d eventually relented and taken him back, but only so that she could dump him at the altar. Or by arranging things so that he caught her in bed with someone else.
She had a smile on her face now, it was true; even though Richie didn’t follow. But it wasn’t a smug smile. It was a smile of realization, because Amanda didn’t want to be like those cars. She didn’t want to go on hurting anymore. Nor did she want anyone else to hurt because of her. Except for Richie, of course, but she was only human.
Behind her, Richie stood rooted to his spot, watching her walk away. Behind her, the drivers had stepped out of their cars and started shouting expletives at each other. It devolved into an almost brawl, forcing people to jump in and pull them apart.
Amanda turned to watch the scene for several moments, then looked at Richie. He wasn’t paying attention to the scuffle. He only had eyes for her. They pleaded across the space between them, silently begging her to go back to him and let him know it was all right.
Amanda turned away and continued walking. As the distance between them grew, she felt a sense of peace.
You really should have kicked him in the balls, her sister said. “Not worth the effort,” she replied aloud, grinning as she did so.
Her smile transformed her and men turned to see the beautiful red-head walking down the street. Not that she noticed, however, turned inward as she was with a profound sense of satisfaction.
And so she broke many hearts on that cold, December evening as she walked aimlessly about the streets of Paris, happy with the company she kept – herself.
Chapter 9
“How is she?” Arnaud asked.
“Mme. du Lac is much better, today,” the nurse said as she positioned a blanket over her patient’s legs. “We went on a walk this morning.” She nodded for emphasis at Arnaud’s surprised look, then walked away motioning him to follow.
They stepped out of the solarium into the covered veranda overlooking the manicured garden surrounding his house. The nurse seemed oblivious to the cold as she shut the glass doors behind them, peering through one last time to make sure her charge was fine.
“These things are... complicated, you understand?” she explained. “Sometimes, they’re fine and can act... eh, normally. At others, well...” she shrugged with a meaningful look at Sophie who sat motionless on her rattan chair as she looked out on another part of the garden.
He sighed, knowing full well how often she could switch from a motionless statue to a normal woman who spoke and moved. “Is there any hope of her ever getting any better? Permanently?”
“Monsieur, these things are not an exact science. The human mind is a complicated matter. And one as fragile as hers,” she finished with another shrug.
“I see. Thank you, madame.”
The nurse gave him another encouraging smile before returning inside to sit by the comatose woman. Arnaud watched as the woman started talking to his wife. If Sophie heard anything the nurse said, she gave no sign of it as she stared ahead blankly.
Arnaud couldn’t bear the guilt. It’s why he’d buried himself in work over the years. Theirs had never been a marriage of love, but of convenience, rather. For Sophie was a d'Havrincourt, yet another noble house. Which also made her his cousin, as all nobles are related. Granted, it was several times removed, but still.
It was the way of noble houses, only this time, it also led to what Sophie had become. Or so she believed, despite what the doctors said. Arnaud wondered if Sophie wasn’t right. The birth of their still-born child, a boy, had been bad enough. But when their second one, a daughter he loved so much, died after three months... Arnaud gritted his teeth at the terrible pain.
Sophie began isolating herself, refusing to let him touch her. “It’s because we’re cousins!” she raged. “God is punishing us for our sins and the sins of our ancestors!”
The few times she came out of her quarters were no better. She could spend days and even entire weeks refusing to speak to him, filling the house with a frosty atmosphere that cut through him like a knife.
He had tried to be patient, had even come to love her for the sake of their
lost children and their shared suffering. That he’d learned to love her too late, was another cause of his guilt. Not that it did any good. Sophie retreated more and more till doctors finally suggested that she be institutionalized.
He’d refused. Better here in a fine house where medical professionals could give her 24-7 care in a place she had called home for over a decade.
He walked into his study and smiled at the two women who sat drinking by the fireplace. Their frequent visits kept him sane. At their questioning looks, he shook his head.
Camille sighed. “At least she’s not in one of her rages.”
“Yes,” Sylvie nodded. “I like her a lot better when she’s a vegetable.”
“Sylvie!” Camille hissed.
Arnaud simply smiled. Sylvie had always had a way with words.
“Will you be staying for dinner, Arnaud?” Camille asked, still glaring at her sister. “Elsa said she’s making one of her specials tonight.”
Arnaud shook his head. “Will you two be staying the night?”
“Might as well,” Sylvie replied as she poured herself another glass of port. “Shame to have this house so empty. You go on and have fun, luv. You’re looking positively bleached.”
Arnaud gave each of the women a peck on the cheek and made his way out.
“One more thing,” Sylvie said as he was about to leave the room. “Get laid, why don’t you? It’s about time you stopped moping around. Positively depressing, you know?”
Arnaud grinned as he stepped out into the night.
In her chair in another part of the house, the nurse prattled away at her charge while she crocheted an elaborate weave with quick flashes of her needle. Had she once drawn breath or paused in her crocheting, she might have noticed that her patient was breathing very hard and that her hands were clenched in tight, shaking fists.
*****
Amanda stepped out of her office in her jogging outfit, stuck her earplugs on, and looked around guiltily. Satisfied that no one was looking her way, she scrolled through her iPod and selected Abba. When “Dancing Queen” came on, she began her stretches.
Ever since her incident at the Tuileries, everyone insisted that she was safer jogging on the walled grounds of the MNHN, instead. Since it saved her the bother of having to go home first, and since she was tired of everyone fussing over her, she did just that.
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