A Perfect Paris Christmas

by Mandy Baggot

  ‘But grown-ups are allowed to hug too. Everyone needs something to cuddle sometimes,’ Silvie added. She smiled like someone who had already had the pleasure of a guinea pig on their lap.

  Ethan didn’t know what to say. He was taking all this in, but these people looking at him were different than they had been before. Altered from how they had been through the last twelve months. It was like while he had been hiding from the world they had all been reborn. And what had happened with Jeanne? Where had she really been while he had been turning back to Calvados? She was obviously here on the invitation of Silvie, or Louis, or both, and had been party to whatever had been happening over at the Tour Eiffel hotel. The one hotel he had made no attempt to visit at all.

  ‘And the hotels are all getting a makeover,’ Silvie stated. ‘You have made a wonderful beginning with this hotel and a start has been made at Tour Eiffel. The other hotels will come on board in the new year.’

  ‘It looks completely different!’ Jeanne said, all eagerness. ‘It looks like… a circus! With drapes and covers and lots of old stuff. Old stuff but nice stuff. Like we found at Les Puces.’

  ‘We were going for a mix of log cabin and Bedouin tent with a Parisian twist,’ Louis told him. ‘I can… show you the drawings if you like.’

  What did he say? It was now like all this information was on board an express train heading on a course straight for his heart. Somehow he knew now what this all was. It wasn’t the Durands changing as people – not entirely anyhow – this was about someone else.

  ‘The drawings do not do it justice, Louis,’ Silvie insisted. ‘Ethan needs to see it for himself.’

  ‘Tonight!’ Jeanne added, bouncing up higher on her knees and invigorating Bo-Bo. ‘He should see it tonight!’

  Ethan watched Silvie put a hand on Jeanne’s shoulder as if to quieten her and miraculously the girl complied. He rubbed his eyes with his fist. Jeanne’s hair was pinned back from her face and set in a neat bun. He was just about getting used to her without the hat, but this neatness and care was brand new. And he had missed it. Because he had been only thinking of himself. How could he be that way if he was planning to provide a safe haven for the girl? He had to get himself together if he wanted to ensure a place with him was better for her health than living on the streets.

  ‘What a wonderful suggestion, Jeanne,’ Silvie said clapping her hands together. ‘How about a family meal?’

  Bo-Bo let out a bark and shook his head, drool landing on the polished boardroom table.

  ‘Yes, and you too, Bo-Bo,’ Silvie agreed.

  And then something extraordinary happened. Silvie reached towards the dog and scratched the animal under its chin until it began licking her fingers and looked likely to try and mount the woman.

  ‘I… cannot make it tonight,’ Ethan found himself saying. ‘I have other plans.’

  ‘No, you do not,’ Jeanne told him.

  ‘Jeanne, I do.’

  ‘You have been spending all your time drinking. You think I do not know the haunts of people from the street? I have spent time with Pierre from the secret bar in Montmartre.’

  Ethan didn’t know what to say. He had known Pierre for years. It hurt him that Jeanne was even acquainted with the barman who was known for helping those in need.

  ‘Jeanne, Louis,’ Silvie addressed them. ‘Why don’t you both see what Noel is doing about the coffee?’

  Jeanne huffed a sigh and climbed down from her perch on the chair, tugging Bo-Bo down with her. ‘Perhaps he might respond if we had something stronger than coffee.’

  ‘How about cake?’ Louis suggested, shepherding Jeanne towards the door like a favourite uncle.

  ‘And some for Bo-Bo?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course,’ Louis replied.

  As the door closed behind them Ethan got to his feet. ‘What is going on here? How do you know Jeanne? What is happening with the hotels? And how did you get Louis to sign off on a barn?’

  His agitation was the only thing driving him now, as he hadn’t eaten properly in five days. That weakness was telling a tale on his attempt to appear together.

  ‘Louis was happy to agree on animals. We did not agree on penguins.’ She sighed. ‘Sit back down, Ethan. We have some talking to do.’

  ‘I do not want to talk,’ he told her. ‘I have nothing to say.’

  ‘You have nothing to say?’ Silvie asked. ‘You do not want to say anything about how you decided to take in a street girl and her dog, inviting them to live with you! You do not want to say anything about the new idea you had to change the hotels so they cater completely for what customers want not what Ferne maybe thought our customers should aspire to?’

  Ethan didn’t know how to respond. Silvie was hitting the nail on the head with every breath. He sat back down.

  ‘Or do you not want to say anything about Keeley?’ Silvie asked. ‘The woman you have fallen in love with but are too stupid to not take a chance with.’

  Ethan bit his lip. The tears were in his eyes as soon as Silvie had said her name. ‘I… cannot.’

  ‘Why can’t you?’ Silvie asked him. ‘I want to hear it in your words.’

  He shook his head. ‘She… and Ferne… it’s too… crazy.’

  ‘Crazy,’ Silvie said with a nod. ‘Yes, you are right. The situation is completely crazy. But, it is the kind of thing you read about all the time. Remember, the two people who found love in lockdown across their balconies. Or the cats that go missing, then walk hundreds of miles to get to their previous homes. Or how about… jetting into space… or that craziest of crazy men being in charge of the United States.’ Silvie paused for a second. ‘Crazy happens all the time, Ethan. It does not have to mean that crazy is wrong.’

  He didn’t have any more words. It was an unbelievable complication. Something that should not have been able to occur with no one knowing about it. If he had just paid a little more interest when Silvie had said the person who had received Ferne’s kidney was here. If he had turned up at dinner…

  ‘Look at it from Keeley’s point of view,’ Silvie carried on. ‘I have asked her to come here. I have wanted to meet the woman who received Ferne’s kidney. I wanted, very selfishly, to know who Keeley was and to also know that she was well. And to believe that some good was coming from the waste that was Ferne’s death. Perhaps it was closure. Maybe, in truth, it was thinking that I might notice a little of Ferne about her. I know that sounds silly. Donating a kidney isn’t some far-fetched kind of reincarnation, I realise that. I suppose, I wanted to know she was nice, and kind, or brave, or set to do remarkable things but what I found out was so much more than I could have anticipated.’

  Ethan made no reply.

  ‘I found out that she was the most beautiful soul in the simplest of ways. She is kind. And she is nice. And, my God, she has been so brave. Going through an accident, losing her sister, nearly losing her own life and having to pick up all those pieces afterwards. I can only imagine what she has had to go through.’ Silvie shook her head. ‘And to do all that and know that you are supposed to be living your best life each and every day, with the eyes of your overprotective mother on you, the hopes and dreams of a grieving French woman on you, and everyone else talking about second chances and making moments count. The poor poor girl hasn’t been given a minute to even process what her new life means.’ Silvie stood then, making her way around the table towards him. ‘Until she met you.’

  Ethan didn’t dare look up. His heart was hammering against his rib cage and he felt rather like one of the rabbits from reception who got agitated if the children held them too long or too hard.

  ‘Because Keeley met you with no precursor,’ Silvie reminded him. ‘She told me you literally ran into each other. With the penguin.’

  He swallowed. ‘Yes.’

  ‘And, for a moment, for the very first time, Keeley was simply herself. A bright, intelligent, young woman in Paris, the person she was before these tragic events, the person she so wants to be if onl
y fate would let her.’

  Ethan shook his head, the tears coming then. ‘I do not know what to do,’ he sobbed. ‘I cannot stop thinking about her. But every time I think about her I think about Ferne and how much I still miss her.’

  Silvie slipped into the seat beside him then. ‘We all still miss her. And there is nothing wrong with that.’ She sighed. ‘I know that Louis thinks I have been spending too much time in Ferne’s room, but there is a reason for that. I have decided… that it is time to clear a few things out. Not all of it. Never all of it. But there are deserving people who would appreciate almost a whole house of fashion that lives in her wardrobes.’

  ‘She has more clothes than Givenchy,’ Ethan answered.

  Silvie laughed. ‘She really does.’

  Ethan smiled and rubbed at his eyes.

  ‘Ethan,’ Silvie said gently. ‘The only body part that makes us who we are cannot be transplanted.’ She sighed. ‘Our soul.’ She laid her hand on his. ‘And… I believe that the soul dies altogether at exactly the same time we do.’ Silvie smiled. ‘Everything else about us is… simply machinery.’

  ‘You really look at it like that?’ Ethan asked her.

  Silvie nodded. ‘I also know that if Ferne had not been in the UK, in London, on that November night, Keeley would most likely not be here now.’ She smiled at Ethan, patting his hand. ‘Do not punish Keeley for being able to live because Ferne could not. I believe Keeley has been punishing herself for far too long already, with absolutely no grounds for it.’

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ Ethan said, watery eyes struggling to focus.

  Silvie sighed. ‘Yes, you do,’ she told him sincerely. ‘And you also know what Ferne would want you to do too.’

  Suddenly, loud barking erupted from outside the door and, looking through the glass into the lobby area beyond, Ethan saw Bo-Bo was running off with a whole cake lodged in between his jaws.

  ‘That dog!’ Silvie said, shaking her head. ‘It is a menace! And it needs a visit to the groomers.’

  ‘So did Jeanne before I saw a bun in her hair today,’ Ethan replied.

  Silvie smiled. ‘You liked my handiwork?’

  ‘I knew you had done it. I just did not know why.’

  ‘Jeanne was worried about you. She made sure we were introduced. And while you have been… absent… she has asked for some books from my library and some of Ferne’s things to decorate her room.’

  ‘I… do not know what I am doing with Jeanne either,’ Ethan admitted. ‘I did not think. I…’

  ‘Oh no, Ethan,’ Silvie interrupted. ‘You did think. You thought very deeply with regard to Jeanne. Except you did not think with your head. You thought with your heart.’ She squeezed his hand then. ‘And that is what you should carry on doing. Come to the hotel tonight. Come and see what has changed.’ A smile crossed her lips. ‘I think you will be surprised.’

  Sixty-Six

  L’Hotel Paris Parfait, Tour Eiffel, Paris

  ‘I’m quite nervous,’ Keeley admitted. ‘Almost as if this is my hotel.’

  ‘Well,’ Rach said, sheening a rather light-coloured lipstick for her over her mouth as they both looked at their reflections in the mirror of the ladies’ toilets, ‘you’ve designed all these changes and made some of the curtains. You made it all happen so it is your project really.’

  ‘And it’s your big date,’ Keeley reminded. ‘Tonight could be the night with Antoine, right?’

  ‘I am counting on the romance in that yurt.’

  Keeley smiled and touched a section of her hair, pulling it a little straighter. The yurt was a triumph even if she did say so herself. If the romantic or – as an alternative – intimate family dining experiences went well, she had suggested to Silvie and Louis that they purchase three more of the structures. Not only could they charge money for these extras, it also fitted very well with people’s desire to still be a little socially distant. One table, one tent, one dinner to remember. ‘Thank you for being my guinea pig. Not, you know, a guinea pig like they have in the petting zoo barn but—’

  ‘Come on! I want to see the inside of the yurts with the elaborate drapes and the map of the sky and the Christmas trees with a gift to take home.’ Rach grabbed Keeley’s arm and pulled her towards the door.

  *

  Ethan couldn’t believe the transformation. It wasn’t like the small changes he had made in a corner of the hotel at Opera, this was a completely different dynamic. It was almost as if he were walking into someone else’s establishment, one he did not know at all. But that lack of initial familiarity became a lead-in to a whole host of flashes from the past. With every footstep further into the bowels of his hotel he was bowled over by the Christmas décor – the real tree decorated with tiny gingerbread men, trains, wooden eggs, stars, toy soldiers, wrapped gifts with baskets of snow-topped logs at its base, bells and garlands of fir over picture frames and mirrors. Gentle festive music played but it wasn’t an interference, it drew you in, made you feel as though you were part of a world that was going on undisturbed inside what was definitely going to be Welcome Paris. Stress was floating away, no one was without a smile, the traffic and inclement weather outside could be a mile away. Even if he hadn’t known already, he could feel that this was all Keeley.

  ‘Monsieur Bouchard,’ Antoine greeted him as he headed towards the door to the restaurant.

  Ethan cleared his throat. ‘Good evening, Antoine.’ It felt like it had been weeks since he had been here last.

  ‘Your table is this way,’ Antoine said, sticking out a hand and directing.

  ‘I am meeting Madame Durand,’ Ethan began.

  ‘Yes,’ Antoine answered with a nod.

  ‘She is outside?’ Ethan asked. ‘Are we having dinner in this animal barn I have heard so much about?’

  ‘You may laugh,’ Antoine began. ‘But for a moment, until the leaflets from the animal shelter began to arrive, Chef thought the sheep were for him. He was keen in creating lamb navarin.’

  Ethan wasn’t quite sure if Antoine was joking or not. He followed his directioning though, heading for the door to the garden.

  A few paces later and they arrived in the area usually reserved for a few benches and racks to safely keep bicycles. The large wooden barn was at the very end, twinkling lights around his doorway, but here, now, in the foreground sat the most unusual tent he had ever seen. He paused, just looking, taking it all in. The garden was lit by flaming torches – far enough away from structures not to be a hazard – lanterns swung from the branches of the trees, illuminating the layer of crisp snow on the ground. And the tent itself – thick cream material in a circular shape, wooden struts poking out from its top – it looked like it was a dollop of thick clotted cream complete with chocolate flake that had been dropped into the centre of Paris.

  ‘Please,’ Antoine said. ‘Come this way.’

  ‘The tent?’ Ethan asked, stepping onto the snow.

  ‘For the brochure, it is intended to be called a “boutique boudoir”.’

  ‘I…’ Ethan began.

  ‘Very much can happen in five days,’ Antoine said, smiling.

  ‘So I am finding.’

  Ethan stepped forward, moving up to the entrance, then tentatively he parted the curtain of fabric.

  *

  ‘Great!’ Rach exclaimed. ‘Right on time!’

  Keeley span round to face the doorway and there was Ethan, standing on the coir matting a few short metres away. Her heart was in her throat before she could attempt to do anything to stop it and she felt like she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She drew her handbag towards her like it was a security blanket.

  ‘Our work here is done,’ Antoine stated, beckoning Rach towards him.

  Suddenly, somehow, her best friend and her best friend’s new boyfriend managed to leave the yurt and neither she nor Ethan had moved one centimetre.

  ‘I… cannot believe it,’ Ethan said finally. ‘This… boutique boudoir.’ He stepped clo
ser then, his eyes roving over all the work she had put into it. ‘It is phenomenal.’

  That one word warmed Keeley all the way up and she took a step nearer to him. It was all billowing canvas above them, decorated with a map of the sky, tiny lights highlighting the constellations. There was a sofa to lounge on draped with thick fleecy throws, plaid blankets and furry cushions. From a small speaker, delicate music was gently rising into the air and there were trugs filled with wood around a roaring stove, Christmas stockings hung from the knobs of a sideboard sat next to a medium-sized Christmas tree. Perhaps, she wondered, if they started to talk about the décor, they could find their way back to a beginning.

  ‘It’s an idea I had when I was looking at fabric for the inside of the hotel. And then I did a little bit of research. Did you know that although most people say they wouldn’t want to go camping, actually the being under canvas part, the simplicity and the rustic elements of it are not what they find unappealing?’ Keeley said.

  Ethan nodded. ‘It is the cold and the rain and the holes in the canvas… or the hours that it takes to put up a tent in the cold and the rain with the holes in the canvas.’

  ‘It sounds like you are speaking from experience,’ Keeley ventured.

  ‘The cold and the rain part comes from my few years living on the streets,’ he admitted.

  A pregnant pause followed until Keeley’s self-preservation kicked in and she took another few steps towards him. ‘There is insulation in the floor and… the wood burner. Anyone dining here has a choice whether to have someone tend the fire for them or to do it themselves. A home from home but with added touches if required.’

  ‘It is amazing,’ Ethan breathed. ‘Truly amazing.’

  Keeley was closer to him now and it reminded her of everything that had passed between them. The pure, wonderful times and the moment it had all gone wrong. Was there any way to move forward?