Chapter 35
NOW
‘You really think I’m the best person for the job?
’ Bella asked Brad, tapping the card against the kitchen table.
It was the fourth evening in a row they’d spent working together on Bella’s plans.
But however helpful he’d been with those, he clearly wasn’t going to step in when it came to giving this business card to Odette.
When Claudine had pressed the business card into Bella’s hand earlier that day and told her it was for her ‘lodger’, she’d thought Claudine had meant Henri; that she’d wanted her to set up a date or something.
She’d been just about to say that Henri was just out of a relationship and wasn’t ready to date yet – although she wasn’t sure whether this was true or not – when she’d looked and realised that the card belonged to a woman named Marie Fontaine, a curator at a Parisian art gallery.
‘For Odette?’ she’d asked.
‘For the one who painted that beautiful seascape,’ Claudine had said. ‘I can’t remember her name, I’m sorry.’
‘No, that’s fine. Wow, thank you.’
‘Marie is a friend of my sister’s,’ Claudine had added. ‘I cannot make any promises, but I think she would be interested to see some of your friend’s work.’
Bella had felt quite excited at the prospect of being able to help Odette to the next stage of her career, until, on the train, she’d wondered whether Odette was ready to make the most of this opportunity.
Her friend had been distant since their argument and while she still chatted about this and that when in the kitchen, she now always locked her door after disappearing back into her room.
‘Ah, she’s just embarrassed,’ Brad had said when she’d told him. ‘She had this problem – this fear – and she didn’t want anyone to know. You’ve kind of seen inside of her and she can’t figure out how to talk to you.’
They’d spent most of the evening writing down names of potential suppliers; making lists of people that Bella would need to contact.
In truth, she was exhausted – working all day and then all evening felt like a lot.
But she was excited, too, at the progress they seemed to be making.
She’d already booked decorators – an amazing feat at such short notice, but Brad knew a guy who knew a guy – to paint the two Superior rooms in a soft, muted green, and had managed to source some furniture from a maker who created solid-wood pieces in antique designs.
‘You know, I think you’re going to land this, and the job,’ Brad had said. ‘The Hotel Club folks are going to love it, and you’ll get that permanent position.’
She’d screwed up her nose. ‘You think? I mean, that would be great. But most of all, I don’t want to let Claudine down. She put a lot of faith in me, and I guess it was misplaced. I want to… I just want to do what I promised I would.’
Bella spent a lot of time wishing she’d been more honest. Of course, now she was earning, she had cash in the bank; it was natural to look back and not fully understand her actions beforehand.
But that was because she didn’t feel the urgency, the fear she had then.
It was like having a full belly and wondering why anyone would stuff themselves with chips.
She looked at the card again, black with gold embossed words. ‘Don’t you think it might be better coming from you? You know, she’ll feel she has to listen to you at least, being her landlord and all.’
He shook his head. ‘You got this for her, it should be you. And besides, I want her to really want this, not say yes to it just because I own the house she lives in.’
Sighing, but accepting he was right, Bella got up from the table.
It was ten o’clock and while it was still light, the evening air had a muted quality, a dullness to its edges.
Then again, even in the darkest night, light still streamed into the Versailles kitchen from other houses, apartments, street lights.
In Peyrat, she knew, the night sky was thicker, darker, like a blanket.
But the darkness made it easier to look at the stars.
She knocked on Odette’s door and heard movement inside.
‘Yes?’
‘I’m just— Odette, can I talk to you for a second?’ she said, trying to keep her voice breezy.
There was an audible sigh, and a creak as her friend stood up. Then the sound of paper crinkling and floorboards creaking as she walked to open the door. Bella hoped that Odette wasn’t treading on the beautiful canvases as she made her way.
The door opened a crack. Odette looked at her with a smile that was wide, but clearly forced. ‘Bonjour, Bella,’ she said. ‘Henri’s gone out I think, if you’re looking for him.’
Since their break-up, Henri had been out most nights. Bella wasn’t sure whether he was just trying to stay out of her way.
Odette seemed to have stopped going out altogether; she went to her work in the bar four afternoons a week but seemed to want to spend the rest of the time in her room.
Bella was doubly relieved that Brad was here – a friendly face to speak to over coffee, and someone who was willing to help her make the grade at work. Someone who wasn’t avoiding her or pretending she didn’t exist.
‘No, actually, I wanted to speak to you. You know, my boss, Claudine – she popped in the other day?’
Odette’s brow furrowed. ‘Yes, you told me I think?’
‘Well,’ Bella tried to cover her misgivings with a smile. ‘She wanted me to give you this.’
Odette took the small card, turned it over, read the name. ‘Marie Fontaine? Why – why would she give me this?’
‘My boss loved your painting. The seascape. Really loved it. And she knows her stuff. Her sister’s a curator, or an artist or something.
Her dad was in the industry too. I can’t remember all the details, but anyway, she has this connection and thought it would be worth you approaching her with some of your work! ’
Odette’s eyes were still focused on the card. Then, ‘Non,’ she said, handing the card back.
‘What do you mean? Surely – I mean I know it’s daunting – but this is a great opportunity, right?’ Bella didn’t raise her hand to take the proffered card and the two stayed in some sort of stalemate.
‘Non. I am not ready,’ Odette said, pushing the card at her more forcefully.
‘Yes, you are!’ Bella gently pushed the card back, so that Odette’s arm folded in a little closer to her body. ‘Your paintings are amazing. And you have— well, you have a lot of paintings in there.’
‘Non.’
‘Seriously, Odette. If not now, then when? I know this is your dream. I know you’ve lost your confidence, but if this Madame Fontaine would be willing to look at your work, surely that’s an opportunity you shouldn’t miss out on?’
Odette scowled.
Sometimes Bella wondered why she’d ever thought she had anything in common with her housemates. The more she lived here, the more she noticed remnants of the children they had once been, still evident in some of their behaviour. They were in that weird phase of not-childhood but not-yet-adulthood.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘At least think about it.’
‘OK, I will think about it. Happy?’
‘Thank you.’
Odette closed the door rather abruptly and Bella was left standing in a hall full of shadows.
There was nothing else she could do.
She made her way back to the kitchen where Brad was still sitting at the table, papers spread out, laptop flickering. He’d switched on the lamps; the room was bathed in a warm, yellow light, and the kettle was just coming to a boil. He looked up at her expectantly. ‘And?’
She shook her head. ‘Not keen.’
‘But she took the card?’ he said, noticing that she wasn’t holding anything.
‘Yep, she took the card.’
‘So we’ll see.’ He grinned.
She felt suddenly grateful for this man who’d come from nowhere and was now dedicating his evenings to helping her, and doing it with such enthusiasm and kindness. ‘Want a cup of tea?’
‘You bet.’
Bella made her way to the kettle. ‘Thanks for this. You don’t have to.’
‘I know. But when I—’
‘Let me guess,’ she said, turning and grinning. ‘When you were younger, people helped you. You may have already mentioned this once or twice.’
Her tone made it clear she was teasing, so she was surprised to see him fixing her with a steady gaze. ‘Actually, I was going to say that when I’m with you, it’s like all my own problems fade away.’
‘Because it keeps your mind busy?’ she said, spooning loose tea into the pot and wondering why her hand was trembling slightly.
‘No. Well, maybe. But actually, I think it’s you. I enjoy spending time with you.’ She looked at him and their eyes locked.
‘Oh,’ she said. The odd thing was that although she hadn’t expected him to say those words, she didn’t feel surprised.
She’d come to value these evenings together, how the conversation flowed. The proximity of him.
It was different from what she’d felt for Henri, she realised. That desperate, needy feeling of lust and wanting to be rescued all at once that had burned bright, but had burned out.
When she was with Brad, things seemed so easy, so natural. He wasn’t her landlord, her mentor. He was her friend. A friend she thought about on and off for most of the day, and looked forward to seeing every evening.
But before she could say anything else, there was a loud banging sound from the hallway. A key turned in the lock and, as they looked through the open kitchen door, Henri stumbled through, looking more than a little worse for wear.
He looked at them together in the kitchen, smiled and staggered through. ‘Bella,’ he said, standing and swaying slightly on his trainered feet. His laces, she noticed, were untied and had almost definitely been soaked in a puddle on the way home. ‘Oh, salut, Brad!’
‘Hey, man. Seems like you’ve had a bit to drink.’
‘I am drowning my sorrows. My broken heart.’ He clutched his chest dramatically.
‘Henri! Seriously?’ Bella said.
‘The heart wants what it wants,’ he lyricized.
‘In his case,’ Brad said quietly in her ear, ‘the heart seems to have wanted a LOT of tequila.’
She tried not to laugh.
‘Come on, dude, let’s get you to bed,’ Brad said, standing up, putting his arm under Henri’s and helping him walk.
As they disappeared from the room, Bella realised that she’d missed her chance to respond, to say that she liked spending time with Brad too; that part of her wished this project would never end.