Chapter 14
14
PARIS 1961
Allegra sat on a green bench in Place Dauphine, waiting for Etienne and Elizabeth. She glanced at her watch; so desperate had she been to escape the confinement of her tiny room that she’d arrived almost half an hour early. She glanced around the now familiar spot. The last of the brown leaves clung on to the spindly branches of the trees, the sand-covered floor below covered with the rest. A few bikes were propped against the trees but the cafés surrounding the square – or triangle, really – were quiet, too late for lunchtime diners and too early for evening customers. The sun was doing its best to find ways through the thick white clouds above, casting sunbeams across the pale stone buildings on one side.
Allegra adjusted her scarf around her neck, tucking it into the front of her navy-coloured wool coat. She took out a letter from her bag, unfolding the thick white pages, her father’s familiar scrawl on the page. She’d received the letter the day before, reading the first few lines before folding it up again and putting it back in the envelope. It had taken her all this time to pluck up the courage to read it properly. Dragging her eyes to the page, Allegra began to read. As she feared, her father was calling her back to New York for the winter break. She’d been secretly hoping her parents would let her stay in France given that she was pretty sure she was out of sight, out of mind. But obviously they had other ideas, clearly wanting to show off their Paris-educated daughter at their numerous Christmas parties.
Sitting on the bench, looking at the words in front of her, Allegra realised how much she didn’t want to leave Paris. Not now. Perhaps not ever. She was happy here, and the thought of leaving and going back to her parents, even for a few weeks, made her feel wretched.
‘Hey, what’s that look for?’
Allegra turned to see Etienne’s face behind her. He bent down and kissed her on the lips, then came and sat beside her.
‘What’s this?’ He gestured to the letter in her hands.
Allegra couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze, not wanting him to see she was about to cry. ‘My parents want me to go home for Christmas.’
Etienne’s face dropped, then quickly changed as he smiled at her reassuringly. ‘That’s good, isn’t it? They haven’t forgotten about you after all. And it’s only for a few weeks, non ?’
‘Yes, but reading this now makes me realise I really, really don’t want to go. I want to stay here. I know you’re going home to your parents for Christmas, but I’d rather stay on my own in Paris than go home. Elizabeth will be here with her parents so I wouldn’t be completely alone.’
Etienne put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her towards him. He spoke gently. ‘Is it really that bad?’
Allegra took a deep breath. ‘The thing is, I feel like they’ve got my whole life mapped out for me. I know they only sent me here because they didn’t know what else to do but coming here has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. In New York I felt stifled. I don’t think they even see me as a person, just someone they need to marry well so they can feel better about themselves.’ She looked at Etienne, scared she’d said too much.
‘Why don’t you come home with me for Christmas instead?’
‘I couldn’t. They’d kill me.’
‘No, they won’t. Not if you tell them the truth. Perhaps not the part about marrying you off.’ He smiled. ‘But just say you’re happy to stay here and that you’ve been invited to spend Christmas with my family.’
‘I haven’t told them about you yet.’
‘Why not?’ Etienne’s face fell slightly.
Allegra was suddenly embarrassed. Why was she so afraid of telling her parents?
‘I’m not sure. We just don’t really talk about things like that.’ She thought about Etienne with his family, how happy they all were when they were together.
‘Well, I think you should. Write and tell them you’re going to Provence for Christmas. And even better, tell them you’re going on a road trip. That’s an American thing, isn’t it?’
Allegra couldn’t help but laugh a little. ‘Yes, it’s an American thing I guess.’ She sighed. ‘You’re right, I need to just tell them. I’ll write to them tonight.’ She folded up the letter and put it back in her pocket. ‘Are you sure you want me to come with you?’
Etienne kissed her on the bench in Place Dauphine and with that, she knew the answer.
‘Hold it!’
They both turned to see Elizabeth standing behind them, her camera in one hand. She waved to them, then joined them on the bench.
‘Given that it took you two so long to kiss each other in the first place, you really haven’t stopped since,’ she said, teasingly.
Etienne and Allegra both blushed. It was true. Since that first kiss in the vineyard in Provence, they’d barely been able to stop.
‘We’re just making up for lost time,’ said Etienne, shrugging his shoulders.
Allegra reached for Elizabeth’s hand. ‘So, what would you like to do? How about a walk along the river?’
Elizabeth sighed. ‘You two are too kind to me. I’m sure you don’t always want me tagging along.’
Etienne offered her a cigarette. ‘We miss him too,’ he said.
‘You know what we need?’ said Allegra.
‘Ice cream?’ Elizabeth looked hopeful.
‘Exactly.’ Allegra stood up, pulling her coat around her. ‘Let’s go to that new place; the sorbet there is insane. I’ve tried to get the recipe out of them but it’s a secret. It’s just a couple of blocks down from here.’
‘You can take the girl out of New York…’ said Etienne, teasing her.
* * *
Allegra had written to her parents to tell them she wouldn’t be returning for the winter break and had heard nothing back, not even a phone call to admonish her. She’d felt immediately lighter having done it, wondering why it had taken her so long to just say what she wanted, but the lack of contact unnerved her. Still, she tried her best to put it out of her mind and simply enjoy the trip.
The morning Allegra and Etienne left Paris for Provence, they’d had to scrape ice from the windscreen of Etienne’s car. Allegra had spent much of the first part of the journey wrapped in blankets, the car was so cold. The plan was to break up the drive halfway with an overnight stay with Etienne’s uncle, a winemaker in Fleurie, before doing the second part of the drive the following day.
Allegra loved watching the landscape as they drove along the newly opened autoroute, past the rolling hills of Burgundy and on through the Rhone Valley. The further south they went, the more mountainous and dramatic the landscape grew. They stopped to fill up with fuel, feasting on the baguettes and various cheeses Allegra had bought from the market the day before and when she’d gone to fetch the basket from the boot, she couldn’t help but notice a small package tucked down by the side of one of Etienne’s bags, wrapped in brown paper. A book, no doubt. She smiled to herself, thinking of the present she’d bought for him. It was hidden away in her bag, a drawing she’d found in the Paris flea market they’d visited the previous weekend, now rolled up in a tube.
They arrived at the farmhouse by the early evening, their bodies aching after hours spent in the car, but Allegra couldn’t have cared less. She was so happy to be back in Provence. Everyone came out to greet them, the pack of dogs at Etienne’s mother’s feet as ever. Camille hugged Allegra like a long-lost sister and both Nicolas and Agnès were clearly thrilled to see her.
‘Etienne, how could you make the poor girl come all the way from Paris in that?’ said his mother, shaking her head as she gestured to the car. She turned to Allegra. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘I loved it,’ laughed Allegra. ‘But yes, I think I might pay for it later.’
‘Well, if you’re not too tired we have friends coming for dinner tonight,’ said Agnès. ‘Let’s get you inside, it’s chilly.’
Allegra noticed a slight nip in the air but thought it was wonderfully mild compared to the weather they’d left behind in Paris.
‘Who’s coming?’ asked Etienne.
‘Serge and his wife,’ said Nicolas. ‘Hopefully he’ll bring some of his red wine; it’s the best I’ve tried in the region.’
‘They’ve got vineyards nearby,’ explained Agnès to Allegra.
‘With their own cave . It’s what we should do,’ said Camille.
‘What’s a cave ?’ said Allegra, looking at Etienne.
‘Their own winery, so they can make their own wine without having to rely on the co-operative,’ he replied.
‘That’s all very well but there’s one drawback,’ said Nicolas to his daughter. He rubbed the tips of his fingers together.
‘ Je sais, je sais ,’ said Camille to her father, rolling her eyes. ‘But one day we must do it.’
‘Serge is also a sculptor, a very good one. So much so, he can afford to make his own wines now,’ said Etienne.
‘We don’t have to talk about this maintenant ,’ said Agnès. ‘I’m sure Allegra doesn’t want to know about this… boring stuff.’ She winked at Allegra.
Allegra was shown to her room by Etienne, the same one she’d shared with Elizabeth the last time she was there. She looked at the bed her friend had taken before, her absence acute. ‘I worry about her,’ she said, to herself more than anyone else.
‘I know you do.’ Etienne kissed her head. ‘I’ll just go and put this in my room.’ He held up his bag. ‘Meet you downstairs.’
Allegra nodded. She sat on her bed and looked out of the window, across to the glimpse of blue in the distance. ‘Can we drive to the sea one day whilst we’re here? Have we got time?’
Etienne was obviously surprised. ‘I thought after all those hours in the car I’d never get you back in there again.’
‘I loved it. And now we’re so close, I don’t think I could bear driving back to Paris without seeing the sea. Properly, that is.’
Etienne sat down next to her on the bed and reached for her hand. ‘I have a better idea.’
‘What?’
He shrugged. ‘You’ll have to wait and see.’ And with that, he smiled and turned. ‘See you downstairs.’
That night, as they sat round the long table in the kitchen, the warmest room in the house, feasting on the most delicious beef en daube Allegra had ever tasted, she listened as they talked about the vintage – who’d had the best grapes, whose were the worst – along with discussions about everything from philosophy to politics and religion, mostly in English for her benefit. Every now and again they’d slip back into French and although she couldn’t follow every word, Allegra realised how much her French had improved. She couldn’t ever imagine having the same open conversations with her parents around the dinner table. The closest they’d ever come to talking about anything remotely similar was the time they’d argued about whether their neighbours in the apartment downstairs were Catholic or not.
‘How did you make this? It’s so good,’ said Allegra to Agnès before taking another mouthful of stew.
‘Nicolas made it,’ she said, smiling at her husband. ‘Tell her your secret, mon chéri .’
‘You put everything together one day, cook it the next and eat it the next,’ said Nicolas, shrugging his shoulders just as Etienne did, thought Elizabeth. ‘My mother’s recipe.’
‘Very good wine, Serge,’ said Etienne, raising his glass.
‘ Merci ,’ said the old man at the end of the table. Allegra thought he looked like a friendly giant, with his wild white hair and thick beard. His wife Mimi, next to him, was completely the opposite. She looked like a little bird, her dark eyes darting about the table, cigarette permanently between her bony fingers even when she was eating. When she spoke her voice was high and the words tumbled out so quickly Allegra wondered how anyone could follow a word she was saying.
‘Mimi wants me to tell you that she thinks you look like Catherine Deneuve,’ said Etienne.
‘Who’s that?’ said Allegra.
‘A young French actress; she’s going to be the next big thing,’ said Camille. ‘And she’s beautiful, by the way.’
Allegra thanked Mimi, then raised her glass to them. ‘ Le vin est délicieux .’ She blushed, realising everyone’s eyes were on her. This sent Mimi into fits of laughter for some reason.
‘Did I say it wrong?’ she whispered to Etienne.
‘No, don’t worry.’ He took a sip of his wine. ‘She’s always like this.’ He nodded at Serge. ‘He was the reason I fell in love with sculpture. Perhaps I’ll ask if we can go to his studio. He’s quite private about his work but he knows how much I love seeing it. I think you would too, especially with your new-found appreciation for art.’ He grinned, knowingly.
After they’d finished their plates, Agnès placed a cheeseboard on the table. The discussions continued long into the night and every time Allegra went to pick up her wine glass, she found it had been topped up. By the time she climbed into bed, her eyelids were heavy. Despite the curtains being drawn, moonlight flooded the room through the cracks. She thought of Etienne lying in his bed across the hall and wondered if he was still awake.
There was a soft knock at the door. Allegra went to open it and, as if she’d summoned him with her thoughts, found Etienne standing there. ‘Couldn’t sleep,’ he said. ‘Thought I might walk down to the vineyards. There’s a full moon tonight.’
Despite feeling tired, she couldn’t resist. ‘Why not? I’ll just put some clothes on.’
They crept out of the house so as not to wake anyone, bribing the dogs with biscuits as they passed through the kitchen and out of the back door to the path. The light outside was like nothing Allegra had ever seen, the moon a giant spotlight on the vineyards below them. Walking hand in hand, they talked about the evening’s events, laughing at the thought of Mimi and her infectious giggle. Suddenly there was a rustling in the vines just to the side of them.
Allegra jumped. ‘What the hell was that?’ she said, looking around.
‘A wild boar, probably.’
‘Are you serious?’ Allegra didn’t like the sound of that at all. ‘Are they dangerous?’
Etienne laughed. ‘Only if you get in their way when there are grapes on the vine. But there’s nothing on them now, they’re too late. And you really don’t see them very often here. They’re quite rare.’
They made their way down the hill towards the stone hut at the top of the lower vineyard. As they approached, Allegra thought back to that night just a few months before when they’d danced until late. She looked at the old oak, backlit by the moon and bare of leaves now.
‘Why did it take you so long to kiss me for the first time?’ Allegra kept her gaze ahead.
He thought about it for a moment. ‘The thing is, I had wanted to kiss you from the moment we first met. I walked into the bookshop and it was like, Ah. There you are .’
‘Really?’ She turned to him.
‘And then you have no idea how hard it was not to kiss you on that dance floor in the club that first time. You looked so beautiful, but I didn’t want to… scare you if that’s the right way to say it.’
‘Be too forward?’
‘That’s it. Not with you. I didn’t want to lose you by being too forward. But then, that night, I knew you felt it too.’ He put his hand gently on her chest. ‘Right here.’
Allegra’s heart was beating fast. She continued to look straight at him. ‘And what would you say if I asked you to follow me now?’
Etienne blinked, as if he’d misheard her.
Allegra took his hand and led him into the hut. They stood facing each other and slowly, she removed her jumper, pulling it over her head. Dropping it onto the straw-covered floor below, she then placed her hands on his hips before moving them around to his back and lifting his jumper. As he took it off, she started to remove the shirt she was wearing.
‘Stop,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘The light on your body. Just let me look at you for a few seconds.’
She smiled. ‘Don’t. I’ll get embarrassed.’
‘You shouldn’t.’ He reached out his hand and ran a finger along her collarbone before moving his hand down towards her breast, the feeling of his fingers brushing her skin making her gasp. A million tiny electric shocks ran through her body and she found herself sinking to the floor, pulling him down with her. She unbuttoned his shirt, kissing every part of his neck as she did so.
Etienne looked at her, stroking the hair from her face. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’
Without taking her eyes off him, she guided his hand down her stomach towards the top of her trousers. ‘Quite sure,’ she whispered.
Afterwards, as they lay side by side on the straw, the moonlight casting a silver glow across their bodies, Etienne held her hand up in the air. ‘You have beautiful fingers.’
‘Thank you, so do you. Very adept.’ She grinned, then kissed him again. This hadn’t been Allegra’s first time, but with Etienne she finally understood why it was called making love.
Just before dawn, they walked back up to the house, the sky behind the mountains streaked with colour. The air was still.
‘We could drive to Cannes today if you like?’ said Etienne, as he led her back through the vines. ‘There’s a Christmas market and we can pick up some presents.’
‘Can we go to the beach? The one we went to before?’
‘You want to swim?’
‘God, no. I want to put my toes in the sand again. Remember when Elizabeth and I did that when we came here? It was the first time I’d ever seen the Mediterranean and I just wanted to feel the water on my skin. I loved that so much.’
‘You know what I remember most?’ Etienne stopped and turned to face her.
‘Our first kiss?’
‘Yes, that. But there was something else and I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. Luc and Elizabeth had obviously had an argument about something before the party that night.’
‘She told him she loved him.’
‘And he didn’t say it back.’
‘Exactly.’ Allegra pulled a face. ‘Awkward.’
‘But the thing I remember most about that was how you took her dancing. I watched you, making her laugh, and that’s when I knew.’
‘Knew what?’
‘That I loved you.’
A small smile was on Allegra’s lips. ‘You do?’
Etienne nodded. ‘I do.’
‘Well, that is a shame.’
‘Why?’ Etienne’s expression collapsed.
‘Because I love you too. And now we’re going to have to figure out how to make this work.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Etienne, it may have escaped your notice but I’m an American.’
‘And?’
‘I live in America.’
‘You live in Paris.’
‘Currently, yes. But I’m going to have to go back to America at some point.’
‘Not if you stay here and marry me, you don’t.’
Allegra wondered if she’d heard him right. ‘Did you say…?’
Etienne dropped to one knee. ‘Allegra Morgon, will you marry me?’
It was such a shock it took her a few seconds to speak. But standing in that hut in the vineyard where they’d first kissed, she looked at him and her future suddenly seemed crystal clear. She knew there was only one answer.
‘Yes, I will marry you.’
‘You will?’
‘Yes.’ Allegra laughed. ‘Of course I will!’
They kissed and hugged each other tightly, laughing as tears of joy streamed down their faces. By the time they got back to the house, Etienne’s mother was already in the kitchen making coffee. She took one look at them and shrieked with delight.
She immediately went to the door and shouted up the stairs. ‘Nicolas!’ she yelled. ‘ Viens ici !’ Turning back to the beaming couple, she stood with her hands on her hips. ‘Do you have something to tell me?’
Etienne nodded and before they could even get the words out Agnès threw her arms around them both. She then took a step back and took a hand from each of them.
‘You know your father and I married at your age. Living your life with someone you love is a gift. I’m so happy you have found it too,’ said Agnès.
‘Thank you,’ said Allegra, her voice shaking with the excitement of it all.
‘What’s happening in here?’ Nicolas appeared at the door in his pyjamas, scratching his head.
‘Papa, I asked Allegra to marry me, and she said yes,’ said Etienne, looking from his father to Allegra.
‘You did?’ Nicolas sounded surprised. ‘Well, that is good news!’ He came to hug them both.
‘ Qu’est-ce qui se passe ?’ asked Camille, as she walked into the kitchen in her dressing gown.
‘They’re getting married!’ said Agnès, beaming. ‘Nico, go and fetch a bottle of champagne from the cellar. Etienne, get some glasses.’
‘Congratulations.’ Camille kissed Allegra three times on the cheek, then went to hug her brother. ‘I don’t know what she sees in you,’ she said, winking at him.
As they sat around the kitchen table toasting the newly engaged couple, Allegra was so happy she thought her heart might burst. The only stone in her shoe was knowing she would have to tell her parents sooner rather than later. She resolved to call them, perhaps when she and Etienne were in Cannes that afternoon. She knew they’d be furious but now she was eighteen years old she could do as she pleased, couldn’t she?
After a long morning where seemingly every neighbour dropped in for a drink, the two of them sneaked away to exchange Christmas presents. They sat on the rug in front of a roaring fire in the hall, various dogs at their feet.
‘I got it from George’s bookshop; I thought you’d like it,’ Etienne explained as she opened hers first, a copy of a new art book showing a collection of paintings by Picasso.
Allegra carefully opened it, the vibrant colours jumping out from the page. ‘I love it, thank you.’ She kissed him on the cheek. ‘Well, I’m just hoping you like your present. I think you will.’ She put the book down and handed him the cardboard tube, a bright red ribbon tied around the middle. He opened it at one end and slowly removed the piece of paper inside. He gently laid it on the rug and unrolled it, holding it down with his fingers to reveal a pencil drawing of a woman. He stared at it in disbelief, then looked at her. ‘Where did you get this?’
‘At the flea market in Saint Ouen. I went up there with Elizabeth.’
‘But this is too much; you know who this is?’ He looked at her, his eyes wide.
‘It’s Rodin.’ She beamed at him.
‘But…’ He held the paper up in his trembling hands ‘…this isn’t a print. This looks like an original.’
‘What? Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t pay that much for it. It just can’t be.’ She laughed.
‘I’m being serious, Allegra. Look.’ He pointed at the paper. ‘A print would have a number on it somewhere. This one doesn’t.’ He turned it over carefully. ‘Did it come with anything else?’
Allegra picked up the cardboard tube and peered inside. ‘No, nothing. Are you sure?’
Etienne shrugged. ‘I think so. We need to show Serge, he would know.’
‘He’s coming over later to eat with us, your mother said.’
Etienne whistled. ‘If this is what I think it is, you have something very special on your hands.’
‘Which I’ve just given to you,’ Allegra reminded him.
‘I don’t think you understand. It’s worth a small fortune. Enough to change your life.’
Allegra felt immediately uncomfortable. She really hadn’t paid much for the gift but, so far, she had deliberately kept details of her family’s vast wealth from Etienne. She liked the fact that here, away from her parents, she could be herself rather than the Morgon girl from the Upper East Side, as she’d been called to her face by parents of her friends back in New York. ‘Well, if it is then I guess we’ve struck lucky but to be honest I bought it because I thought you’d like it.’
‘I love it,’ he said.
‘But you love me more, right?’ She grinned at him.
‘More than you know.’