19
Nancy was home early. She’d gone to the café in the Bois de Boulogne without Hans yesterday, but it felt odd sitting at their usual table on her own, so this afternoon, she’d headed straight for the flat.
When she arrived at their apartment building, she checked their postbox. There were two envelopes for Olivia and just one letter for her. It was postmarked Portsmouth and looked like Patty’s writing, which sprawled across the envelope, giving the impression that she’d written it in a hurry. Hopefully, all was still going well with Patty’s round-the-world sailing plans. Nancy put Olivia’s letters in her bag and ripped open Patty’s so she could read it as she climbed the stairs:
Dear Nancy
Hope you’re having an amazing time in Paris. It’s still all systems go here on the good ship Boadicea. (Did I tell you that’s what we’ve decided to call her now? We can’t have a bunch of women setting a world record in a vessel called King Henry VIII!!!)
Nancy grinned at the new name. Good job she wasn’t superstitious - she could picture some of the old sailors in the harbour at Dashford sucking disapprovingly on their pipes at the idea of renaming a boat. Patty, of course, had already thought of that:
Don’t worry! I threw a shilling in the sea so Neptune won’t plague us with bad luck. (Not sure shillings are real silver now, but I can’t see how an old sea god is going to test that underwater.)
Anyway, slight problem: the refit was more expensive than I expected. So sorry, but we’re ￡300 short, which means I need every crew member to stump up an extra ￡30. Trust that won’t be a problem.
Much love,
P xx
Bugger! Nancy did a quick calculation in her head. ￡30 was over three weeks’ wages. How was she going to find that between now and June?
She reached the top of the stairs and let herself into their apartment. She needed to find the notebook that held all her savings plans.
Half an hour later, Nancy was referring to her notes and scribbling sums on scrap paper. No matter what she did, she couldn’t work out how to save another ￡30. ￡10 maybe, but certainly not ￡30. She could write to her mother to see if she could give her a loan, but if her father intercepted it, he would find a way to stop her from going on the trip. He was even more annoyed with her after seeing her with Hans at the party.
A knock at the door interrupted her train of thought. Olivia was meant to be seeing Pierre this evening. They must have had yet another row. She sighed and got up. ‘Have you forgotten your keys?’ she said as she opened the door.
‘No, I never had any.’ Hans said, smiling back at her. Her heart skipped a beat. She’d missed that smile even though he’d only been gone for two days.
‘Sorry, I thought you were Olivia.’ She welcomed him in.
‘I hope I’m not too much of a disappointment.’
‘Of course not. It’s a lovely surprise. You said you weren’t going to be back until Friday.’
‘I got my work done early.’
‘Is your manager happy with you again?’
‘It would seem so, yes.’
She noticed he was dressed more casually than usual. ‘New jumper?’
‘Sweater?’ Hans said.
‘No - it’s a jumper. “Sweater” sounds very American. I would call that a navy blue polo-necked jumper.’
Hans nodded. ‘I’ll remember that. Do you like it?’
‘Yes, it suits you.’ It really did. The blue enhanced his eyes, and it fitted well, reminding her of the decent physique he had underneath. Nancy looked away quickly before he realised she was mentally undressing him.
‘Have you taken up accountancy?’ he asked, looking at the sheets of paper covered in numbers that were spread out on the dining table.’
‘No, though I will have to take up a new profession to afford everything.’
Hans looked puzzled.
‘I need an extra 400 francs for my sailing trip,’ she explained.
‘I thought you said you’d got it all planned out.’
‘I had, but the price has gone up. Our captain has gone overboard on the refit.’
Hans looked shocked. ‘She’s fallen in the sea?’
Nancy smiled. ‘No, she’s fine. It means she spent more than she intended.’
‘Oh. I had not heard that phrase before. So what are you going to do?’
‘Stop eating?’
‘I can help with that a little. I can save you some money on food this evening,’ he said with a grin. ‘Would you like to join me for a meal?’
‘At yours?’
‘No. A meal in a restaurant cooked by a proper chef this time. One who comes highly recommended. I will pay. I’m sure there is a better way to say that.’
‘My treat?’
‘Yes, that’s it. My treat. It’s my birthday, so you would be doing me a kindness by not letting me eat alone.’
‘Happy Birthday! I’m sorry I haven’t got you a present.’
‘As I didn’t tell you it was my birthday, I don’t think you need to apologise,’ he said. ‘The pleasure of your company will more than make up for it.’
‘You’re a gentleman, Hans,’ she smiled.
‘I try hard to be.’
‘The restaurant is only a few minutes’ away,’ Hans said as they set off up the street. ‘It’s called Les Deux Chat Noir.’
After a few turns, he pointed to an ornate Art Nouveau clock on the wall opposite with two black cats painted on the dial. ‘We have arrived,’ he said, crossing the road and holding the door open for her.
The maitre d’ recognised him straightway. ‘Bonjour, Monsieur Schmidt,’ he nodded. ‘One moment.’ He headed towards the back of the restaurant.
‘You’ve been here before then?’ Nancy asked, suspecting that this was one of the venues where he used to woo Christa. Had he brought the woman with the white hair streak here, too?
‘I’ve eaten here a few times. It was good, but there is a new chef now, one who is even better than the previous one.’
The maitre d’ returned. ‘Your usual table is ready, monsieur,’ he said, ushering the pair of them to a cosy corner at the back of the restaurant. ‘I trust this is fine?’
‘Yes, excellent, thank you,’ Hans said.
The maitre d’ pulled out Nancy’s chair and settled her at the table, handing her the thick linen napkin.
‘I will be back to take your order shortly,’ the maitre d’ said, bowing slightly, as another waiter placed the menus and the wine list on the table.
‘This is posh,’ Nancy said, stroking the expensive leather on the menu.
‘Posh? Is that bad?’ he asked, sounding worried.
‘No. It means expensive, something that is good quality.’
‘You deserve something posh,’ he laughed. ‘I suspect you are used to posh restaurants at home.’
Nancy laughed. She loved how he tried out new words as soon as he learnt them. ‘Sadly not. My father considers eating out to be a major extravagance.’
‘I thought you said he owned a factory.’
‘He does, and it earns him a lot of money, but he doesn’t like to spend it, not on his family anyway.’
‘What does he spend it on?’
‘Houses mostly. To rent out to people to make even more money.’
‘That seems to be what capitalism is about. Is he a good landlord?’
‘I suspect not, given how mean he is with us.’
She was relieved that the waiter picked that moment to return to take their order.
‘I have absolutely no idea what to choose,’ Nancy said, glancing down the bewildering list of options.
’Shall I choose for you? Is there anything you don’t eat?’ Hans asked.
‘Lamb chops. I’ve eaten enough of those to last a lifetime.’
‘Very well.’ He began reeling off a list of dishes in what sounded like perfect French. The waiter complimented him on his choices.
’So what are we having?’ Nancy asked as the waiter walked away.
‘It will be a surprise. Hopefully, a good one.’
Another waiter appeared with a bottle of red wine. It looked expensive. ‘Wine, Madame?’
Madame not mademoiselle. Perhaps the dim lighting made her look older, or was he just being respectful?
‘Yes, please.’
She noticed how the candle flame made Hans’ eyes sparkle more than usual. At least, she assumed it was the candle.
She raised her glass to him. ‘Happy Birthday, Hans.’
‘That was a wonderful meal. Thank you,’ Nancy said as they left the restaurant.
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’
Nancy shivered when the cool evening air hit her bare arms.
‘Are you ok?’ Hans asked.
‘I should’ve remembered to bring a coat. It was so mild when we set out earlier, I forgot it would be cold now.’
‘Take mine.’ He took off his jacket and put it around her.
‘But what about you?’
‘I’m fine. I have my new sweater. Sorry, polo-necked jumper.’
‘You’re a fast learner,’ she giggled at him. Careful, Nancy, that wine was stronger than you thought.
‘Shall we head back home?’ Hans said.
‘Tempting as it would be to stay out longer, I guess we should go home as it’s a school night.’
‘School night?’
She laughed again. ‘I never realised how many idioms we use in English until I started teaching you.’
‘I am guessing that you are not going to school tonight.’ He grinned.
‘No, I’m not. I’m not planning to go to school tonight or any other night. It means we’re working tomorrow, so we should go to bed early.’ She flushed at what she’d just said. Perhaps that wasn’t such a bad idea. From the look in his eyes, he appeared to be thinking the same.
She tilted her face up and tentatively brushed her lips against his. He hesitated for a moment, then kissed her back. His lips were soft against hers. As their tongues met, her whole body felt on fire. Kissing Billy hadn’t been a patch on this.
‘Let’s go home,’ he murmured as he pulled away.
She smiled at him as he took her hand and led her through the maze of streets. She held his jacket tightly around her shoulders and imagined having the rest of him wrapped around her very soon.
It seemed to take forever to arrive outside his apartment door. By the time they got there, Hans looked on edge. ‘I’ll see you to your flat.’
‘We’d be better off at yours,’ she said. ‘Olivia’s home tonight, and your bed’s bigger than mine.’
He shook his head and avoided eye contact. ‘Dieter will be home soon, too. Perhaps this is a good thing.’ He started walking up the stairs.
‘And what’s that meant to mean?’ she asked as she followed him.
‘I don’t want to take advantage of you.’
‘I’m not that innocent if that’s what you’re worried about.’
They were outside the door to her flat now. She leaned in to kiss him, but he backed away.
‘You’re an amazing woman. But I won’t make you happy.’
‘I don’t understand. You already make me happy. I’d appreciate it if you could make me even happier.’
‘We should just be friends. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m so sorry.’ He turned to walk away.
What the hell was going on? There was no way he didn’t mean that kiss. It wasn’t as if she’d pinned him down and forced her tongue down his throat. And what about Sunday afternoon? If they hadn’t been interrupted, she was sure something would’ve happened then.
‘Your jacket,’ she said, holding it out to him.
‘Thank you.’ He took it from her without looking her in the eye. ‘Good night, Nancy.’
How dare he just walk away like that! She heard the door to his flat click shut, and the bolt go across. That sounded final. She got her keys out and let herself into her own flat.
Olivia was in her bedroom, putting curlers in her hair. ‘Was that Hans’ voice I heard? I thought he was away?’
‘It was Hans. And I’d rather not talk about it.’
‘Why? What’s he done?’
‘It’s more what he hasn’t done.’
‘You can’t leave it like that. Dish the dirt, Nancy.’
‘We kissed.’
‘At last. And?’
‘And nothing. He apologised and dumped me on our doorstep.’
‘Dumped?’
‘In every sense of the word. I’m going to bed. Alone.’