Seven
I t had been Pauline’s idea to go to the Carnavalet. The twins had been given a homework task: finding out about when Paris was called Lutetia, back in Gallo-Roman times. They could have looked it up on the internet but when Pauline had suggested going to the museum, Arielle had readily agreed. She knew that her sister was distracting her from worrying about that awful clash with the Grandiers. Arielle was indeed anxious that they might come back to the charge, the thought of it keeping her awake at night. But several days had passed and there hadn’t been another peep out of them, so she tried to put it to the back of her mind. A day out would definitely help with that.
Besides, it was a lovely Sunday, her only full day off. They’d had a picnic lunch in the Place des Vosges and then went on to the Carnavalet, which was nearby. Arielle had been to the museum before and remembered it as a lovely, hushed old place, with long corridors and lots of historical displays in a multitude of rooms. Now, spaces had been opened up and it seemed both to highlight the beauty of the building as well as make it easier to take in the intriguing weaving of Parisian history. The courtyard garden had changed, too. Before, it had been formal, elegant but perhaps a little stiff, with gravel paths, long border beds filled with regimented flowers and bonsaied bushes in soldierly lines, and central beds of dwarf box plants trimmed sharply to look like paisley-printed carpets. She’d loved that curve of living green paisley.
Today, it was still there, and bursting with depth of colour, the glossy leaves of the box shining in the sunlight. What had changed had been a softening of the stiffness: the gravel less dominant, the living paisley carpets trimmed less sharply and bordered by flowering plants with blooms in tones of pink, violet and white. These had been allowed to bush out more than before, and there were climbing green vines on one inner courtyard wall. There were café tables scattered around and there was an air of relaxation. The garden was still elegant but it no longer felt like it was demanding to be admired. Rather, it was inviting you to pause a moment, draw a breath and look closely.
Just as the woman in the green top was doing. She was so absorbed that she started when she heard the twins’ running footsteps on the gravel behind her. Oh, it’s her , Arielle thought, the woman who wanted flowers for her aunt . She looked different today, in that embroidered top with a bright brooch pinned to it, but it was definitely her. ‘Sorry,’ she said, while Pauline went after the fleeing twins. ‘We didn’t mean to disturb you. The children can be a little lively and—’
‘It’s all right,’ broke in the woman, with a polite smile, ‘I know how children can be.’ Then she stopped, and looked at Arielle, plainly recognising her, and faintly colouring. ‘Oh. Hello.’
‘Hello,’ echoed Arielle. She waved around at the garden. ‘It’s the first time I’ve seen it since they redid it.’
The woman blinked. ‘Me too. I—’ She hesitated, then plunged on, ‘I thought I might get some ideas.’
Arielle smiled. ‘For your own garden?’
A shrug. ‘Maybe.’ Then she looked directly at Arielle and said, ‘What do you think?’
‘I think they have done a beautiful job of—’
‘No, I mean, what strikes you first here? What one element would you take away to recreate?’
Taken by surprise, Arielle looked around at the graceful tumble of greenery down the wall, the paisley beds, the flowering plants almost encroaching on the gravel paths, and said, ‘What first struck me was that the garden had found a balance with itself. I mean,’ she said, seeing the woman’s expression change, and thinking she’d not explained properly, ‘it used to be almost stiff in its formality. Now, it’s not that it’s turned informal, because it can never do that, and you wouldn’t want it to, you wouldn’t want to get rid of that,’ and she gestured towards the exquisite living carpets, ‘but it’s found a place between the two. Or at least,’ she added, smiling, ‘whoever designed it has found it.’
The woman nodded, slowly. ‘I think you are quite right.’
‘And the one element I’d take away with me,’ Arielle went on, ‘if it was for my own garden … well, it wouldn’t be about a particular plant, or a specific feature. I think I would take away a sense of time suspended, as if …’ she groped for an image, ‘as if this was Sleeping Beauty’s garden, in the first year of her enchantment. The castle is asleep, but the garden has just awoken.’
The woman stared at her. ‘What an extraordinary way to look at it.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Arielle said, embarrassed, ‘you probably wanted me to pick something practical, and instead—’
‘And instead you gave me something inspired,’ said the woman. She put out a hand. ‘Charlotte Marigny. I’m a designer of gardens. In London.’
‘Arielle Lunel,’ said Arielle, shaking the other woman’s hand. To cover her embarrassment—she’d been giving advice to a professional designer!—she added lightly, ‘And as you know, I sell flowers. In Paris.’
Charlotte laughed. ‘You clearly do much more than that.’ Then she said, in a rush, ‘And I’m sorry about the other day. Walking off like that. It was—a problem. At work.’
‘Please don’t worry. I understand.’ Arielle was sure there was more to it than that, but that wasn’t her business. ‘What are London gardens like?’ she asked.
‘There are many beautiful public gardens like this one,’ Charlotte said. ‘But I think there are more private gardens there than in Paris, even if some are very small.’ She gave a sudden smile. ‘But that’s not very helpful. Have you ever been to London?’
Arielle shook her head. ‘I’d love to one day but …’ She gestured towards where Pauline was coming towards them, shepherding the twins firmly in front of her. ‘I doubt it will be soon.’
‘They are your children?’
Arielle made the introductions and was glad to see Charlotte Marigny knew how to be with children. They were fascinated by her seahorse brooch, so she took it off and let them handle it, and she didn’t talk down to them at all. Pauline shot her sister a questioning look, but didn’t actually ask any questions until Charlotte had excused herself and headed off, after giving Arielle her card. Then Pauline turned to Arielle. ‘Okay. Who is she, and what was that all about?’
Arielle explained, adding, ‘It was the day that Thierry and Virginie came …’ She glanced at the oblivious twins, who were intently watching the progress of a ladybird on the leaf of a bush. ‘I’m glad I talked with her today. She seemed happier.’
Pauline shook her head, affectionately. ‘You and your befriending of sad strangers!’