Chapter 18
NOW
The bar Claudine had chosen, with its chequered tiles and aesthetically worn leather-clad seating, was exactly the type depicted in films about Paris – traditional, beautiful and full of well-dressed, stylish-looking clients.
Seven o’clock and the scattered tables on the street outside were almost all taken, but Claudine managed to commandeer one just as its occupants left, and Bella took the seat opposite her gratefully.
She had been almost superhuman today, existing on barely a wink of sleep, and the last thing she’d wanted to do was step into a taxi and head to a bar.
But now, on the street, with the buzz of conversation, surrounded by well-groomed and effortlessly elegant Parisians, she started to perk up a little.
‘Cocktail?’ Claudine asked, an eyebrow raised quizzically.
Bella nodded, feeling a little like a child being taken somewhere by a glamorous aunt.
A waiter came to take their order and she pointed to carajillo on the menu, hoping that the shot of espresso that it contained would help to keep her alert for long enough to impress her boss before she went home and collapsed.
As they waited for their drinks, a silence fell over them briefly and Bella racked her brain for something to fill it. ‘Oh, I’ve sent out that email to confirm the caterers for the presentation evening.’
Claudine looked amused. ‘I am glad to hear it. But let’s not talk shop now we are here.’
‘Oh.’ Bella made a face at her faux pas. ‘Sorry.’
‘It is just my way,’ Claudine said. ‘If we let our work come with us into other areas of our life it can become all we are. I like to try to keep it a little separate.’
Bella nodded. ‘Makes sense.’ She thought of the way the B and for those of us who work in business, there are many opportunities.’
‘I’ve always loved France. I came on a trip here with school years ago and…
’ She searched for the right words. ‘The lifestyle is different, the people, the culture – it’s a beautiful place.
’ It struck her yet again that for the first time in a while, every word that she’d uttered was true.
She’d forgotten the initial pull to France that had guided her thinking in the first place.
‘And you don’t miss your own culture? Your family, perhaps?’
Bella winced slightly. ‘I don’t really have parents,’ she admitted.
‘No siblings?’
Bella laughed, took another sip and continued, emboldened. ‘If you met my sister, you’d understand why I’d rather be here!’
Claudine seemed to like this comment. Her eyebrow – once again – arched with interest. ‘Your sister is not a nice person?’
‘Oh. No. I mean, yes. She’s a lovely person.
’ Bella felt her skin prickling as she tried to put her words in order.
‘She’s lovely. It was a joke, really. Kitty, she’s older than me and she’s one of these people who— well, people are always comparing us and…
I just wanted to get away from that. To be myself.
Without the expectations, the comparisons. ’
Claudine was nodding again. ‘I understand. Your sister is jealous of your success. It is difficult for those who do not fly as we do to truly support us.’
‘It’s more the other way around,’ Bella said before she could stop herself.
‘You are jealous of her?’
‘Not jealous.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t want— We have different lives. Want different things. I just always felt as if she was getting everything right and I was getting everything wrong.’
Claudine put her drink down. ‘You are a successful project manager, in charge of a hotel. She must be the Queen of England!’
They ordered another cocktail, and Bella surreptitiously checked her watch.
It was 8 p.m. and a new type of clientele had begun to inhabit the bar – couples dressed for a night out on the way to the theatre, groups of twenty-somethings on the way to a meal or club.
It was still light, but the air had a duller quality, as if darkness were preparing to enter from the wings.
She’d thought she might get home in time to join Odette and Henri who were off with a student crowd tonight. But in all honesty, she was not disappointed at the thought of missing out. She texted Henri:
Bella
Will be home late, don’t wait for me.
Henri
OK. See you later.
Bella
Of course.
They talked more about Claudine – her background in retail, a brief stint on reception at the Ritz before she’d married her second husband, her marriages and divorces, and how she now lived alone in an apartment many of her contemporaries would only dream of being able to afford.
‘Some would say that all I need now is a man to complete me,’ she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
‘And do you?’
Claudine laughed. ‘Not to complete me, non. But I will admit, it would be nice to have a man in my life again.’ She looked wistful. ‘Someone to talk to. To go through life with. I don’t want to end up like Madame Roux.’
‘Yes, tell me about her. How long has she lived at the hotel?’
A strange expression crossed Claudine’s face. ‘Ah, a few years perhaps,’ she said. ‘She was my mother’s friend – did Yves tell you? My mother died when I was quite young.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. Mine too, actually.’
They exchanged a look. ‘Then you understand.’ Claudine said.
Bella nodded.
‘Madame Roux was my mother’s friend for many years.
She actually helped to sew her wedding dress, I think.
She was older than my mother, but they got on famously.
Then, a few years ago, Madame Roux’s husband got sick…
’ Claudine shrugged. ‘When he died, there was a problem with inheritance. And I offered to help.’
‘That was very nice of you.’
‘Yes. Perhaps too nice.’ Claudine raised an eyebrow. ‘She is very good at telling me how to run my hotel, or about the things I’m getting wrong.’
Bella laughed. ‘Yes, she’s already given me a fashion critique.’
Claudine smiled, almost affectionately. ‘I am not surprised. I hope she didn’t offend you?’
‘Not really.’
‘Good. She means well. She was very into her fashions back in the day.’
Bella nodded.
They were silent for a moment.
‘So you are single?’
‘Not exactly.’ Bella made a face. ‘I’m with someone new… but he’s a bit…’
Claudine leant forward, her eyes lighting up. ‘A bit what?’
‘Young. He’s in his early twenties, so…’
Claudine seemed delighted, throwing her head back and laughing. ‘That is perfect!’ she said. ‘Younger men who are not threatened by older women will not mind your success, will not try to trim your wings. And I am guessing he is good in bed?’
‘Oh! Well, yes. He is.’ Bella’s face felt hot.
‘Then I say hold on to him! And when you are bored of him, you can give him my number.’
‘Oh!’ Bella laughed, then looked at Claudine whose face looked… quite serious. ‘Hang on… Do you really—’
But Claudine looked away, signalled to the waiter. ‘Now, will you have another cocktail?’
Bella felt disorientated when she finally made it from the train to the front door of the Versailles house three hours later.
But it wasn’t the effect of the cocktails or the lack of sleep making her feel this way.
It was the fact that she had felt completely at home with Claudine.
She had felt older, more self-assured. With life experience and mistakes, but purpose and drive.
She’d felt, in that moment, like Claudine’s true contemporary and travelling back to her student house share was a little like being Cinderella at the stroke of midnight.
Everything had looked so promising before, but it had been an illusion.
Her horses were rats, her carriage, a pumpkin.
Her prince still out on the lash with a group of overgrown kids.
Part of her was enjoying immersing herself in the two different roles life had gifted her right now. Escaping from the Bella who’d moved over to France, giddy in love and confident her life was mapped out assuredly in front of her.
Part of her felt out of her depth.
She slid the key in the lock and opened the door to darkness. Without the others there, the hallway seemed enormous, dark. She snapped on the light and made her way inside, not realising that someone else was in the house with her.