Chapter 32
NOW
‘Oh man, we should never have come on a Saturday,’ Brad moaned as they joined the long queue at the palace.
She laughed. ‘Come on, it’s not so bad. Anyway, I’m British. We love queuing.’
‘Yeah, I never really understood that.’
‘Me neither. I don’t think any of us actually do, if that makes you feel any better. We just put up with it better than most.’
He grinned. ‘Well, looks like you’ll have to put up with it for quite a while today.’
He wasn’t wrong. The popularity of the palace, particularly on a sunny Saturday, meant they waited for entry for over an hour. But finally they paid, and suddenly they were in a decadent building she’d only read about before.
Versailles Palace was even more astonishing than she’d imagined: there was so much gold – on statues, the cornices, edging the ceilings – that each room seemed to glow with decadence.
She marvelled, looking up at the elaborately painted ceilings, almost stumbling as she took in the scene: angels and gods in brilliant blue skies depicting scenes of battle, or of royal dignitaries on elaborate thrones.
‘Pretty impressive, right?’ Brad said. ‘No wonder they called him the king of kings.’
‘Louis XIV?’
‘Yeah. He liked things luxurious, right?’
‘Just a bit.’ She moved around a woman with a camera to avoid ruining her picture.
‘You know a lot of this was just distraction,’ he said.
‘What was?’
‘All this.’ Brad waved his arm. ‘Apparently he was distracting the nobles with luxury and God-knows-what, so he could get on with ruling France without them bothering him.’
She laughed. ‘Pretty good strategy. Might try that sometime.’
‘Ah, we all still do it to ourselves,’ he said. ‘You know. Distraction. Drinking, going out, late nights. It means we don’t have to think about anything too much.’
Bella felt her neck prickle. ‘Like I do, you mean?’
‘Woah, no. Don’t get me wrong. I was talking about me. Not so much going out these days, but I know I’m getting through a little too much whisky at the moment.’
‘And me, on the wine,’ she admitted. Was Brad right? Was the going out and having fun she’d been participating in more of a way of forgetting her reality? Probably.
He smiled. ‘Still, must have been harder, right, in those days? No TV.’
She laughed. ‘You should become a tour guide here.’
‘Yeah?’ He seemed genuinely complimented and she felt a little mean.
‘Yeah, you know. Speculating on the lack of TV in the eighteenth century. How these days it’d be Netflix on the ceiling rather than paintings.’
‘Very funny.’
They walked on, down the famous Hall of Mirrors which reflected so much light against the already sparkling decor that it was almost blinding.
Bella saw her reflection as they passed; mirror after mirror, each one somehow reflecting a different version of her as the angle of the light changed.
Isabella the executive, Bella the pretend student, Pete’s wife, Henri’s girlfriend.
And someone else. Someone who looked happier than all of them – the way she felt today.
When had she last taken a proper day off, she thought? Got away from it all?
‘This has got to be my favourite room,’ Brad remarked as they reached the end of the Hall.
‘Why’s that?’
‘Ah, probably because the dudes in the pictures are all so goddam handsome.’
‘They’re mirrors… oh.’ She grinned. ‘Got to love your confidence. Have you been here many times before?’
‘Oh God. Thousands, probably.’ He shrugged. ‘What can I say? They don’t have anything like this in the States. It’s all concrete and modernity. And my grandmother used to bring me here as a kid.’
‘You don’t get bored?’
He shook his head. ‘Never. There’s so much here. So much to look at.’ He pointed at a painting. ‘Like that fella. I mean, I know fashions have changed. But he’s actually wearing white pantyhose and pumps.’
‘That’s the king,’ she said, looking at the picture of King Louis in ceremonial robes spread decadently around him, his legs exposed in – yes, it did seem to be an ensemble of white tights and slightly heeled shoes.
‘I know, right? I bet you’re glad your British king doesn’t go in for that sort of thing.’
She imagined King Charles making an appearance in enormous pantaloons, tights and heeled shoes, and let out a brief, barking laugh that reverberated around the high-ceilinged room, breaking through the buzz of chatter. Several people glanced in their direction.
Brad laughed. ‘What was that?’
‘A laugh. My laugh.’
He nodded. ‘Interesting. Are you by any chance related to a farm animal?’
* * *
An hour later, they were in the café; an incongruous mixture of high ceilings and rich decor, with the rather ordinary café tables and counter, drinking coffee. Bella’s feet hummed from standing and walking for such a long time, and she was grateful to give them a break from gravity.
Brad staggered over with a tray: he’d bought them two enormous sandwiches on French bread, alongside the coffee he’d promised.
She was about to say that she hadn’t asked for any food; admonish him for spending his money when it was her who had a debt of gratitude to pay. But then her stomach grumbled loudly enough for them both to hear and she had to admit defeat: she was starving.
Biting into the baguette, her mouth was flooded with a sweet and savoury flavour – not the simple cheese she’d imagined. ‘What is it?’ she asked, her mouth full.
He looked at her. ‘Did your mother never teach you table manners?’ he said, shaking his head in mock reproach. Then, ‘It’s goat’s cheese and honey.’
‘Oh.’ She swallowed. ‘Oh. Wow. Well, it’s nice. Weird, but nice.’
‘Yeah.’ He looked at his dubiously. ‘I kind of panicked when I got to the front of the queue, and the other fillings seemed a bit boring, considering where we are.’
‘What were they?’
‘Cheese and ham. I mean, we’re in a palace, right?’
‘Right.’ She took another bite. ‘Well, this is nice. There’re nuts in it too, right?’
‘Yeah, I think it said walnuts.’
They chewed in silence for a minute or two, letting the hum of other people’s conversation settle around them.
Bella thought briefly about work – something that had dominated her thoughts every day for ages – and it was a shock to realise that it was the first time since they came out that she’d thought about it at all. Progress.
Her phone pinged with a message.
Henri
Where are you?
Bella
Just out. With Brad.
Henri
OK. Still coming out later?
Bella
Probably.
He gave a thumbs up and she wasn’t sure whether that was a passive-aggressive move or not.
Emojis seemed so loaded these days – apparently skulls were now a sign of humour and the droplets she texted to Kitty last time she went swimming were actually meant to symbolise some sort of bodily secretion.
Thinking of Kitty gave her the familiar pang of guilt. She would ring her as soon as she got home, she resolved.
‘All OK?’ Brad had abandoned his sandwich and was eating a piece of cheese he’d pulled from its centre.
‘Yeah, sorry.’ She turned her phone over to give him her full attention.
‘Henri?’ he asked. ‘Need to head back?’
‘No. He knows I’m busy.’
‘Right. And you’re on a date later?’
‘Not sure. What about you?’ she found herself asking. ‘Are you dating anyone?’ Her cheeks flushed as she heard the words aloud.
‘Nah. Not right now. Need to take a bit of “me” time.’
‘That sounds so sensible.’
‘It does, don’t it!’ He grinned and rolled his eyes. ‘If I’m honest it’s not so much a decision but something that’s happened. I’ve kinda forgotten how to do it.’
‘Do what?’ She raised her eyebrows suggestively.
They made brief, humorous eye contact and she was surprised to see his cheeks redden.
‘Dating,’ he said. ‘Not, um, the other thing. I mean, the rules have all changed. Have you seen the dating app stuff?’
‘No. Well, not really.’
‘And there’s all this— There’s these rules,’ he said. ‘Like having a date, which is different from actually dating, then being official, and BF and GF and exclusive and… I mean, what happened to just going on a date and liking someone?’
‘It is a minefield.’
‘Definitely.’
‘You know,’ she said. ‘I didn’t feel at all old until I started to try to act younger than I am.’
Brad laughed.
‘I mean it! There’s nothing worse than realising you no longer understand how the world works.’
‘How the world of Gen Z works, you mean.’ Brad jabbed his thumb against his chest. ‘I’m a proud Millennial like you.’
‘Remember when we used to be seen as the complicated ones? The ones with all the newfangled ideas.’
He laughed again. ‘Ah, those were the days, right?’
They finished their coffees and Brad returned their tray. Then they made their way out into the day again. It was two o’clock and the air felt hot after the cool of the palace rooms.
‘Want to check out the gardens?’ Brad asked.
She checked the time. ‘Yeah, why not?’
Despite the heat, walking the orderly paths next to lush green bushes and plants was cooling – both the plants themselves and the shadows they cast gave relief from the intensity of the sun.
She found herself breathing deeply – the air, still full of city scents, smelled cleaner here, fresher somehow.
‘I think I like the garden better than the house,’ she admitted. ‘It’s gorgeous, isn’t it.’
‘Yeah. That it is.’
‘It’s amazing really that all this is here. That you could walk ten minutes and be on city streets, take a bus ride and be in Paris. It’s like someone has managed to bring the country into the city; I could imagine I was miles away from anywhere.’
He was looking at her. ‘I like that,’ he said. ‘Like a reprieve from city living. An oasis.’