Chapter 11
11
It was only slightly less horrific than Lucie had imagined to crawl around the Périphérique’s multiple lanes of slow-moving traffic, then peel off into a traffic-packed boulevard and be guided by the haughty female voice of the satnav into a multi-storey car park just a few streets away from Deva’s holy grail.
Finally, the beast was at rest and its stiff and crumpled passengers stepped out. Lucie tried to smooth out her blouse as best she could and ran her hands over the deep creases in her cotton trousers from sitting in the driver’s seat so long. Zoe stretched her arms up over her head and shook out the tension in her shoulders.
Meanwhile, Deva looked down at his t-shirt and jeans.
‘I don’t feel ready,’ he said with a note of anxiety. ‘I’m not dressed for this. Just give me a minute to change.’ Then he dived back into the car.
When he re-emerged, a well-cut cream-coloured shirt, ironed and only a little creased from being in his suitcase, had taken the place of the t-shirt.
‘Very smart,’ Lucie told him, but this didn’t seem to provide him with enough reassurance.
‘Sorry… sorry to keep you both, but I’m going to change my shoes too.’ And back into the car he went.
‘He’s getting so nervous,’ Zoe told her mum quietly. ‘I think there’s a risk he might not go through with this. We’ll have to help him.’
‘What can we do to help?’ Lucie asked.
Deva emerged from the car once again and now the big white trainers had been replaced with smart black leather lace-ups, no doubt brought to wear to the wedding.
‘You look great,’ Zoe said with a smile. ‘And black and white, very Chanel. So…’ She started to walk away from the car, hoping Deva would follow her. ‘What music are you going to play when you walk down the Rue Cambon and stand in front of The Ritz? Have you got a Chanel playlist?’
Deva’s face seemed to brighten at the thought of this.
‘Music?’ he blurted. ‘I hadn’t even thought about that. But you’re right, you’re right! I need to pick the perfect music.’
The headphones went back on and as he looked at his phone, Zoe looped her arm through his and told him as she steered him forwards, ‘You concentrate on the tunes and I’ll keep us right on the pavement.’
And so, the little party of three made their way out onto the street, the sunshine and the busy throng of a summer’s day. It was only a ten-minute walk before they were first of all on the Rue Cambon, where Deva’s thrill to be at this legendary destination was infectious.
He made them take a photo of him outside the Chanel shop. Then he took a group photo of the three of them. Then Lucie, to her own surprise, took a firm grip on the door handle and said, ‘Come on, I’m sure they’d love such a dedicated fan to come inside.’
Then, despite the look of fear that flashed over Deva’s face, they were in, feeling the cool blast of aircon, breathing in the powdery, lavender-musk of the world-famous perfume and surrounded by beautiful items displayed in an almost museum-like way.
An assistant appeared at their side immediately to welcome them in French and English. It had been some years since Lucie was in a boutique as exclusive as this one. And she felt just that slight shrinking of her soul as it occurred to her that she would never be shopping in Chanel again. That chapter of her life was closed. And maybe she hadn’t even appreciated it enough when she’d been living it. But, nevertheless, she didn’t want Deva to feel that he couldn’t stay and enjoy at least a little moment of time at the shrine of his muse.
So she took a breath and said that she would like to look at the shoes, and meanwhile, could her family just have a little look around? At this, the assistant focused on her and took her to the wall of gorgeous high-heeled, low-heeled, two-tone shoes of utter perfection, and Lucie went through the rigmarole of trying on two pairs in order to give Zoe, and especially Deva, time to wander through the space, savouring it to the full.
When Lucie had made her polite excuse along the lines of ‘They are so beautiful, but I think I’m going to see what else is available elsewhere’ then it was time for them all to exit the hallowed hall and get back out onto the hot sunshine of the street once again.
‘That was amazing,’ Deva told them. ‘Amazing! Even better than I could have ever imagined.’
Then they turned the corner and were standing in the Place Vend?me, with the splendour of The Ritz hotel ahead of them.
There was a beautiful café in the square with tables and chairs set out on the broad pavement and an awning above to keep customers in the shade. Without liking to think too much about the cost of even a sparkling water here, Lucie suggested, ‘Deva, would it work for you if Zoe and I take a seat and have a drink here? And you can go and look around the square and the streets by yourself?’
‘Perfect!’ Deva enthused, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. ‘Perfect… I’ll be back here in about half an hour?’
‘Yes, go on then. And take plenty of selfies!’
‘Are you doing OK, not too exhausted with the travelling?’ Lucie asked her daughter, looking over the café table at her and wondering how someone she remembered vividly as three years old in a fluffy headband and tiny denim pinafore dress could possibly be pregnant with a baby of her own.
‘I’m tired, but I’m doing OK,’ Zoe admitted. ‘And I’m glad we drove into the city. It’s beautiful, it’s lovely to be here and we’ve made Deva very happy. Plus, for once I’ll have something nice to post on Instagram. I’m guessing you’ve been sneaking a peek at Jacasta’s wedding posts?’
Lucie glanced at her daughter, wondering if it was OK to confess how much those posts had made her snort with laughter.
‘They might be a little guilty pleasure of mine…’
Zoe was smiling, ‘Yeah, OK, they might be a slightly guilty pleasure of mine too. Ohmigod, she is obsessed with the details.’
‘That’s putting it mildly.’
Their drinks arrived and it seemed natural to talk about their visit to Paris all those years ago, and other past family holidays to France. Yes, Lucie thought back with some relief as they reminisced, we were a happy family. We were good parents who loved and still love our daughter. Because sometimes she had worried that the divorce had spoiled it all – the past, the present and the future.
‘I really loved all our family holidays,’ Zoe told her. ‘And I’m fine with you going your separate ways, but it is sad that there won’t be any more times with the three of us.’
‘No…’ And Lucie could see it from Zoe’s point of view. No quick weekend visit to the parents, but having to see her and then Miles, separately, with all the added time and complication this brought. No future invitations to hang out with Mum and Dad at their sunny villa rental, reminiscing about the fun they’d once had in the past. It must feel to Zoe that she had lost the future of her original family.
Well, maybe Miles should have taken some time to think of her and his daughter and how this was going to play out for them. But she had to face it, men like Miles rarely wasted any time worrying about the effect of what they were doing on others. They thought of themselves, they pressed ahead, and they let everyone else tidy the mess up afterwards.
The world idealised the risk takers, but where would they be without the lieutenants who pinned the visions down and got stuff done? Not one of Miles’s office developments would have been such a success without her attention to detail. She was the one who had picked out sofa colours, wall coverings, artwork, light fittings, giving this location a pastel ‘ski chalet’ vibe and that one a ‘luxe artist studio’ look.
‘I’m not ready to play happy families with Miles yet. But maybe in the future,’ she told Zoe now. ‘There’s always hope we can morph into one of those Californian-style families and get together for Christmas Day or on your baby’s birthday and be genuinely pleased to see one another.’
‘Sounds nice,’ Zoe said, ‘let’s hope we can get to that.’
‘Well, when I’m not still paying off your dad’s spending on my credit card, maybe I’ll feel a little more positive about him then.’
‘Oh no,’ Zoe’s eyes widened. ‘How did that happen?’
‘Things got divided out and I got stuck with ￡9,000 on my card that I didn’t spend.’
‘You should tell him, Mum. He might not even know. What did he spend it on?’
‘I only recently found out,’ Lucie couldn’t help the brusque note in her voice. When the information had arrived from the credit card company, she’d looked up the companies online and been astonished at her discovery.
Looking at her daughter now, she said, ‘It turns out that I’m still paying for his hair transplant and his new teeth!’