From Paris With Love

by Samantha Tonge

  Blade zipped up his black leather coat. ‘Impressive, non?’ he said. ‘The perfect viewpoint.’

  Unable to utter a single word, I moved my head up and down. Although my mind screamed superlative words like mega amazin’, wicked, aweeeeeesome. I studied the horizon… I loved the higgeldy piggeldy clusters of beige and yellow buildings, topped with grey roofs. I pointed ahead, to the distance. ‘What’s that?’ I stared at a conspicuous group of skyscrapers, huddled together like a mini Manhattan, in the background. They had little in common with the historic architecture around them.

  ‘La Défense,’ said Blade and blew on his hands. ‘Business towers built to look super-modern.’

  There were various viewpoints and I wasn’t happy until I’d spotted the Arc de Triomphe, the Louvre, Notre Dame and the Seine river… However, the most beautiful sight, by far, was the Sacre-Coeur nestling on a distant hillside.

  ‘It looks so peaceful and majestic,’ I said in a soft voice. The church looked totally disconnected from the jumble of roofs, chimneys and aerials across the busy city. Its soft curves contrasted the straight edges of the other buildings. I screwed up my eyes but would have needed a mega powerful telescope to spot Montmartre and Chez Dubois.

  ‘I’m determined to take a series of shots, through a three hundred and sixty degree turn, so that I can frame them side by side back home, and have a truly panoramic shot of Paris,’ I rambled, fiddling with the zoom button on my mobile phone. I looked up. Blade stared at me.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your enthusiasm… It is infectious,’ he said. ‘But all these photos, yet you miss the most beautiful shot.’

  My brow furrowed. ‘What’s that?’

  He took my phone and stretched out his arm to take a photo of me.

  ‘Oh… Um…’ I gave a goofish grin. It had been a cheesy line but somehow Blade carried it off. In his line of work, Blade must have dated loads of glamorous models and singers. My stomach twisted as I wondered if he’d ever dated her.

  Blade gave back my phone and slipped an arm around my shoulders.

  ‘Just trying to keep warm,’ he said, spiky black hair shifting in the wind. Even in my high heel ankle boots, he was way taller than me.

  ‘Fancy a glass of the expensive stuff? My treat?’ He jerked his head towards the nearby champagne bar. People stood outside, wrapped in beanies and scarves, sipping white or pink fizz.

  I noticed a tear on Blade’s jacket – the scuffed toes of his boots. Money must be tight if you were in a band striving to gain a reputation.

  I shivered. ‘How about that meal I promised you, instead, with a steaming cup of coffee?’

  And with a deep sigh of pleasure I was sipping cappuccino, about an hour later, in a cosy café, not far from the tower. We’d ordered two Croque Monsieurs, (toasted sandwiches) and a side plate of chips to share.

  ‘Mmm,’ I closed my eyes as the melted cheese and ham squidged inside my mouth. They opened in response to a hearty chuckle.

  ‘Anyone would think you’d climbed to the top of the tower on foot,’ said Blade. ‘Didn’t you eat breakfast?’

  Cheeks flushed, I gazed at my plate – Blade still had one half of his sandwich left. I’d just swallowed my last mouthful.

  His hand grabbed mine and he squeezed my fingers. ‘It gives me enormous pleasure to dine with a woman who enjoys food.’

  ‘So, it’s true, what they say about French women – small plates and perfect thighs?’

  ‘Perfection is overrated,’ he said, eyes shining. ‘Unless we’re talking about me.’

  ‘Listen to you!’ I said and we both laughed. I popped a chip into my mouth. ‘Although your whole image looks carefully thought out. That eyeliner must take you ages to apply each morning.’

  Blade squirmed. ‘Not after all these years.’

  ‘Do you remove it at night?’

  He raised a mischievous eyebrow. ‘Would you like to find out?’

  ‘In your dreams!’ Vigorously I stirred my coffee, ignoring the naughty voice in my head that whispered “perhaps, one day”. ‘I meant to ask – when do you next tour? One of my friends is into heavy metal – I bet he’d love to see you live. He hasn’t heard of Black Bijou.’

  ‘Most people haven’t,’ said Blade and wiped his mouth with a napkin. ‘Glam heavy metal is quite specialised. You’d have to be a real fan to…’

  ‘He’s a massive fan,’ I said.

  Blade squared his shoulders. ‘Is this friend from England?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Ah, well, that’s probably why.’

  ‘No – Joe travels the world and knows of heavy metal bands in Japan, Germany… Not that I’m saying Black Bijou isn’t… I mean…’ Uh oh. Hope I hadn’t offended him.

  ‘Sounds like you discussed me at length,’ said Blade. ‘I should be flattered.’

  I forced a laugh. ‘Not really… Joe, he’s… um, always been a bit protective of me – especially when it comes to men.’

  You know when a dog sees a cat and its hackles rise? That’s exactly what Blade did.

  ‘Have you known him long?’

  ‘Um… yes,’ I said, hating having to lie to my brill new friend. ‘Haven’t seen him for ages though – it’s quite a coincidence that his job has brought him to France.’

  ‘And what does this Joe do?’

  Blimey… Blade sounded well jel.

  Eek. I hadn’t thought about Joe’s occupation. ‘He’s an international spy,’ I said, on automatic. Shit – mouth truly in gear before brain. ‘Ha, ha, yes, I’m helping him with a mission, I’m like one of those James Bond girls with sexy names, you know like Miss Plenty O’Toole in Diamonds Are Forever. My real name is… Vajazzle WithGems.’

  ‘Vajazzle?’ His lips twitched.

  ‘Er, never mind…’

  I’d explained to Edward once that to vajazzle meant sticking plastic gemstones on your private bits. His eyes had nearly popped out of his head.

  ‘What does Joe really do?’ said Blade.

  I gazed around the bar for inspiration and saw a poster for a keep-fit class. ‘He’s a personal trainer…’ Yeah, that would work. ‘… to the stars. He works on film sets and TV shows and in famous peoples’ homes. I haven’t seen him, ooh, for about a year.’ Better mention that in case, back at the restaurant, Cindy chatted about him to Edward, who might wonder why he’d never heard me talk of him and raise suspicions in front of Blade. ‘Joe’s, um, friends with one of my brothers. They met at the gym years ago,’ I said. ‘In fact…’ Ah ha! I saw a great opportunity for persuading Blade to come to Disney with me tomorrow. ‘…Joe is visiting the Disney park with me and Cindy, the American chef from Chez Dubois. Why don’t you join us, so that he can learn all about your group? Cindy got four cheap tickets off Ebay.’

  ‘Count me in,’ said Blade, with a flash of his eyes, chest puffed out.

  My heart squeezed. Blade’s male pride – it wasn’t necessary. ‘You know, whether he’s heard of your band or not, you’re one hell of a rockstar to me.’

  Those inky eyes stared right through me and a popping candy sensation fizzed in my stomach. I’d only ever felt that before with… I mean Edward and me were a one-off right? Surely I’d never feel that again.

  Yet I couldn’t drag my eyes away from Blade and – slight adrenaline rush – I leant forward as he did the same. He smelt good – clean… fresh… but not clinical, oh no, and with just a hint of … sex.

  My heart pounded until our faces neared each other. Oh God. Much longer and my fingers would lose themselves in his hair. His breath warmed my cheek as we leant nearer still, until only a few millimetres of air separated our lips.

  Chapter 20

  I loved Blade. Couldn’t put it more simply than that. He was the slice of lemon to my ice; the burger to my bun. He was the rouge to my foundation, the… charger to my phone, the … You get the picture. Me smitten? After that kiss yesterday? Yes.

  Or rather the kiss that wasn’t. That’s why I’d beco
me mega fond of him. He was an ace, top mate. You see, at exactly the same time we both pulled away, nanoseconds before our lips would have met. And the best bit was the lack of awkwardness, afterwards. We just looked at each other, shook our heads and agreed any love stuff would be a mistake.

  In fact… Aw, Blade was so cute, he swore (“merde” being his expletive of choice), apologised, and said he’d had no intention of taking advantage of a vulnerable situation – namely me still finding my feet, emotionally, after my break-up with Edward.

  It was kind of how Edward would have reacted, to be honest, and for a few seconds just made the whole thing feel worse. Until Blade, in his sexy French accent, said that one smile from me equalled the screams of a thousand fans. I cheered up and half-heartedly told him not to be soft.

  I glanced at my watch. It was five minutes to ten. Joe, Cindy and Blade would be meeting me here, just outside the Disney ticket booths, at ten. I’d texted Joe last night and informed him that his cover would be that of a personal trainer, who’d been my friend for years. Joe knew everything about me, having read my file, so I just needed to know some stuff about him. Therefore he rang and his voice warmed as he talked about a supposed younger sister. Plus he sound genuinely keen as he raved about sci-fi movies and American baseball. Was that the real Joe or just stuff he’d made up for his new profile?

  I’d also texted Edward last night, to wish him a good time today, at Versailles, on our day off. I could practically feel his excitement through the phone, as he texted back, saying how he reckoned it was going to lead to a “splendid” article for the Applebridge Chronicle. Edward even added a smiley face to the end of his message. Perhaps, for the first time in history, I’d acquired an Ex with whom I could remain friends.

  ‘Ooh, look at you, handsome,’ I said as Joe turned up in a maple syrup coloured jacket, to match his eyes, beige chinos and brown shoes. I tutted loudly, took off his sunglasses and put them in my leopard-print handbag.

  ‘Hey!’ Joe glared.

  ‘Sunglasses are highly anti-social,’ I said, airily. ‘And you’re just plain Joe today, so I can treat you how I like.’

  ‘Nice jacket, Gemma,’ he said, instead of Agent G. I glanced down at the saffron suede coat I’d picked up secondhand from the market at Porte de Clignancourt.

  ‘Thanks. Shame it isn’t bullet-proof, but I don’t think Monique and her cronies are in Disneyland today.’

  ‘Anything in her emails last night?’ he asked.

  ‘She sent a message out to a number of people about meeting up at the “usual place” today to “discuss the recent threat to their goal”. The initials “MWM” were in the subject line.’

  ‘We should have skipped today’s frivolity and tracked her,’ said Joe. ‘What time is her meeting? I’ll tell Agent John Smith to get on the case.’

  ‘Totally agree. The mission comes first,’ I said. ‘But there’s no point.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because she then cancelled – said she’d foolishly panicked and that something else had come up and she couldn’t meet today anyway; said everything was under control and that the most important thing was to get together this Saturday night to consolidate plans exactly one week before the “great undertaking”. She asked for word to be passed around that every member of “the mob” to be there, no excuses. The address she gave is near the Hôtel de Ville Mètro station.’

  ‘Not far from the Pompidou Centre, then.’

  ‘The meeting takes place at nine.’

  ‘Who’s meeting where at nine and can I come?’ drawled a voice. Cindy appeared at my side. Her peroxide hair hung loosely curled. Her ladybird red painted lips curved into a smile. She was wearing leggings, knee-high boots and a hooded turquoise Disney jacket with a picture of Pluto on the back.

  ‘None of your business and no, you can’t,’ said Joe and smiled.

  ‘Honey, how refreshing to meet a straight-talking man, just like my pops. There ain’t much a man in a Stetson won’t tell you.’ She held out her hand. ‘Howdy – Cindy’s the name – having fun’s the game.’

  He gave a little bow. ‘Pleasure to meet you. I’m Joe.’

  Cindy glanced sideway at me and winked. ‘I hear you’re a personal trainer – may I?’ She stepped forward and squeezed his arm. ‘Impressive!’

  At that moment Blade appeared from the underground exit – he wasn’t easy to miss, with his distinctive height, hair, and clothes. He headed towards us and shook his head as Cindy squeezed Joe’s other bicep.

  ‘Zut alors, I hope you aren’t going to treat me in such a sexist manner,’ he said and gave a teasing smile.

  ‘No offence, sugar, but nothing could match up to what I’ve got between my fingers right here….’

  Joe smirked at Blade who muttered something about the stuff in between people’s ears being more important. Oh dear. His male pride was clearly still bruised from yesterday’s slip, when I told him that heavy metal fan Joe had no idea who he was.

  Introductions made, we headed towards one of the many queues and eventually had our tickets checked at an entrance booth. My heart leapt as Disney music wafted across from Main Street.

  ‘Is this your first time here?’ I asked Blade.

  He shook his head. ‘I came once before – but don’t think I made the most of it then.’

  ‘You a Disney virgin?’ said Cindy to Joe.

  ‘Nope. Been to all the Disney parks.’

  ‘Even in Tokyo?’ she asked.

  He nodded. ‘I travel a lot. And these places – kind of remind me of Star Trek conventions. I’m a fan.’

  Her jaw dropped. ‘I’m a Trekkie too!’

  ‘You’ve never talked about that, Cindy!’ I said, now remembering the Star Trek T-shirt she’d worn on our first trip to Disneyland with Edward, when I’d just thought she was a general movie buff.

  Her cheeks flushed. ‘Dang, because if you declare love for Star Trek, most people write you off as some geek.’

  Joe and Cindy both looked daggers at me.

  I shrugged. ‘Not me, I’m an out and out Twihard, loved the vampires in Twilight –still do, always will – so I know what it’s like when people take the mickey. My brothers drew huge fangs and devil tails on all my posters of Robert Pattinson.’

  Cindy turned her attention to Joe again. ‘Original series or modern?’

  ‘Original.’

  ‘Me too! Favourite episode? Mine is “Tomorrow is Yesterday”, the first ever time-travel episode where they end up…’

  ‘… on 1960s earth?’ Joe nodded. ‘Agreed – great episode. But the best is “Errand of Mercy” where, for the first time, we meet the…’

  ‘Klingons and Kor.’ Cindy’s eyes shone. ‘So, are you team Captain Kirk or Spock?’

  ‘Kirk every time.’

  ‘No! He’s far too much of a clichéd hero – the wise Vulcan sure ain’t as purtee with those pointy ears, but hell, he …’

  And that was it. She linked her arm in his and they headed off chatting, towards Sleeping Beauty’s castle. I heard his deep laugh – a rare sound – and glanced up at Blade.

  ‘She seems to have taken a shine to Joe.’

  He flexed his arms. ‘Perhaps I should work out more.’

  I grinned. ‘Don’t you dare. Although I might need a strong pair of arms around me, if I agree to go on Space Mountain.’

  ‘So might I…’ he said and pulled a face.

  I giggled. ‘Come on – let’s catch the others up. Cindy wanted some more photos of the dragon to put on Facebook.’

  After which, we went on the Voyages de Pinocchio and the Snow White ride. All the to-ing and fro-ing between the different themed lands would have worn out a pedometer. Joe suggested we get organised and visit one land at a time, but Cindy was far too impulsive for that. Eventually we ended up at the dreaded Space Mountain.

  As it turned out, neither Blade nor I put our arms around each other, as over-shoulder harnesses pinned us in our rollercoaster seats, side by
side. We had queued for half an hour outside the gold and turquoise building in Discoveryland, right next to a pool with a submarine in. In the queue, Blade couldn’t stop fiddling with his skull jewellery.

  ‘Nothing to be afraid of, mate,’ said Joe as Blade moved from one foot to the other.

  ‘Don’t need to tell me that, mon ami,’ said Blade with a tight smile. ‘Singing in front of hundreds of screaming fans prepares you for anything.’

  ‘Ah yes… Black Bijou – can’t say I’ve heard of them,’ said Joe as the four of us neared the front of the queue. I could now see the rollercoasters whiz into their parking lots, and wide-eyed, wind-swept laughing passengers climb off.

  Cindy chatted to some fellow Americans behind us, whilst the two men squared up.

  ‘How long has the band been together?’ asked Joe.

  ‘A couple of years,’ said Blade. ‘We’ve been touring clubs in the south.’

  ‘Do you know Enfer Rouge? I saw them play in Marseilles last year. Brilliant.’

  Blade shrugged. ‘We know a lot of bands.’

  ‘So who have been your heroes?’

  ‘Kiss are my all-time favourites from ze glam heavy metal world – although Judas Priest’s music is also fantastique… And, of course, I adore ze metal greats Def Leppard, Whitesnake, Deep Purple and Black Sabbath.’

  ‘Blade met up with Ozzy Osbourne only a few nights ago,’ I said.

  ‘Really?’ Joe’s eyes narrowed. ‘A small-town band like yours has done well to make such famous connections in the rock world.’

  Fortunately, at that point, we’d reached the front and were directed into our seats. The over-shoulder harnesses came down and our rollercoaster whooshed upwards, along the tube which ran on the outside of the building. Then voom! Into the darkness.

  Blade placed his hands on his head. ‘See, nothing to fear,’ he said loudly, although his voice wobbled. As we ducked and dived, squinting at flashing lights, Blade never once flinched.