13
It was Nancy’s first Saturday off. Olivia had promised to show her around the sights of central Paris, but apart from a quick look at Notre Dame, the trip was turning into a guided tour of the best dress shops.
‘You said you wanted to up your game fashion-wise,’ Olivia said when Nancy complained.
’Yes, but I haven’t budgeted for a new frock this month. I’m fine with the ones I’ve got.’
‘Just one more shop, then we’ll call it a morning,’ Olivia said as they walked up to a rather chic boutique.
The sales assistant greeted Olivia with delight. ‘It’s so lovely to see you again. Do sit down. We’ve had some new styles in this week which I’m sure you will love,’ she said, heading towards a rail at the back of the shop.
‘How many dresses have you bought from here before?’ Nancy whispered, ‘Because I swear I saw the Franc signs appear in her eyes the minute she saw you.’
‘One or two, possibly three.’ Olivia looked sheepish. Nancy guessed that meant at least six.
‘This dress is exactly your style,’ the assistant said, returning with a shot silk dress in emerald green.
‘It’s beautiful.’ Olivia looked besotted with it.
‘Shall I put it in the changing room for you?’ the assistant asked.
‘Yes, please. I’ll just see if there’s anything else I like.’ Olivia got up and started flicking through the hangers on the nearest rail.
‘This blue one would look fabulous on you,’ Olivia said, pulling out a dress with a fitted skirt and holding it up for Nancy to admire.
It was a pretty colour, similar to the large ocean blue topaz ring her mother loved to wear. Nancy got up and took the dress to the mirror. She held it against herself. The shape would be flattering. Perhaps she could skip the savings for another week.
‘I’m sure Hans will find you irresistible in it,’ Olivia said with a cheeky grin.
‘Stop matchmaking. I don’t want Hans to find me irresistible. He’s good company, but there’s no point in getting involved when I’ll be leaving in a few months.’
Olivia looked amused. ‘If you call going for coffee with him every evening after work, not getting involved.’
‘We just chat, that’s all.’
Nancy checked the price tag and gasped. ‘We’re going be on bread and cheese for the rest of the year if you buy a dress from here.’ She quickly returned it to the rail.
‘Don’t exaggerate!’ Olivia laughed. ‘Only a couple of months, I’d say.’ She disappeared behind the changing cubicle curtain. ‘I haven’t got much choice. I can’t turn up to Pierre’s family chateau in last year’s fashions, can I?’
Nancy rolled her eyes. ‘You haven’t got your hands on the vineyard income yet. How would anyone tell if you wore one from last year?’
Olivia stuck her head around the changing room curtain. ‘His mother is a former model. She’ll notice. I need to create a good first impression.’
Surely Pierre’s mother wouldn’t care. But Olivia had decided she needed a new frock, and Nancy knew better than to argue.
Fifteen minutes later, they emerged from the boutique with Olivia carrying a large bag containing not one but two dresses. ‘I’ll need to get changed for dinner,’ Olivia had reasoned. They headed in the direction of the Seine.
‘Let’s have a break for coffee,’ Olivia said.
‘A break?’ Nancy said. ‘How many more dresses do you need?’
‘None, you’ll be pleased to know. But I do need new shoes. I haven’t got any that will go with these,’ she said, looking at the shopping bag. ‘Let”s refuel first. We’ll head for that café over there. They had a rather nice waiter last time I went in.’
Nancy didn’t object. Offering opinions on the countless dresses Olivia had tried on this morning had proved to be surprisingly exhausting. A drink and a croque monsieur would do nicely.
The only snag was the café was at the other end of the street, and they’d have to walk past several shops to get there. Nancy had her fingers crossed that none of them was a shoe shop or another clothing boutique. She was willing to abandon Olivia if she so much as looked in another shop window. But it turned out to be Nancy’s turn to get distracted. There was a newsagent just before the café, and the photo on the front of one of the newspapers caught Nancy’s eye.
‘Why have we stopped?’ Olivia said.
‘It’s annoying, isn’t it,’ said Nancy. ‘I recognise that man.’
‘Which one?’
‘This one.’ Nancy picked up the newspaper and pointed to a thin gentleman of about 55.
‘Who is he?’
‘I know him as Monsieur Lambert or Mr Wednesday at 3 pm,’ Nancy said, raising her eyebrows.
‘Ooh. One of Madame Dubois’s regulars. Let’s have a look.’
The newsagent glared at them from inside his kiosk. ‘We’re not a library,’ he said grumpily in French.
‘We better pay for this one.’ Olivia handed over the correct coins. ‘We’ll take it to the café.’
When they were seated, Olivia looked at the caption. ‘He’s not Monsieur Lambert according to this. He’s Monsieur Leroux. Are you sure it’s the same man?’
‘Absolutely sure. He has an odd-shaped ear - it folds over at the top. There can’t be many men who look exactly like that.’
‘He must use an alias at Madame Dubois’s then.’
‘Who is he?’
‘The Minister for Justice,’ Olivia said. ‘Impressive. Madame Dubois provides services for France’s elite. She’ll be up for a Legion of Honour next.
‘No wonder he uses an alias, but you’d think he’d have work to do on Wednesdays at 3 pm.’
‘Perhaps the Ministry of Justice is like school - they’re all allowed to do sports on Wednesday afternoons,’ Olivia said.
Nancy had excused herself from the café as soon as she’d finished eating. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to do something more cultural this afternoon,’ she said to Olivia. ‘You can go shoe shopping while I head to the Louvre.’
Nancy stood in the foyer of the Louvre studying the visitor’s guide. She hadn’t appreciated how large the museum was until she saw the layout printed on the back. She’d promised to meet Olivia outside in an hour’s time but it was going to take a lot longer than that to do it justice. She decided to concentrate on the most famous exhibits and come back another day to look at the rest.
The Mona Lisa would be a good place to start. She worked out the most efficient route to get to it: up a large stone staircase, then turn right at the top. That brought her out into a long gallery full of enormous oil paintings as well as lots of people. She checked the map again. She needed to turn right at the far end of the gallery but it wasn’t going to be easy getting through the crowd. She’d try an alternative route.
She walked into a smaller gallery which was much quieter. As she set off towards the far end, she noticed a man sitting on a bench, entranced by a large landscape. He looked just like Hans. But Hans didn’t like art. He’d said that in the café last week when she’d floated the idea of them going to a gallery together for a change.
A woman walked in from the opposite end of the gallery and sat close to the man - so close that if they weren’t close friends already, they soon would be. She was smartly dressed with dark hair in a short pixie cut and a distinctive white streak in her fringe. Nancy couldn’t decide if it was dyed or natural.
The man turned his head, scanning the room. There was no doubt about it - it was definitely Hans. Nancy quickly turned away so he wouldn’t see her face. When she risked turning back, Hans was whispering something in the woman’s ear. Nancy felt a pang of jealousy. You aren’t going out with him. He can see other people. You’ve assumed he’s single, but he’s never actually said that. Or perhaps it wasn’t jealousy but annoyance that he’d lied to her about not liking art galleries.
No point shilly-shallying, Nancy. Get him to introduce you to her.She marched up to them. The woman got up immediately and left the gallery without even acknowledging Nancy’s presence. How bloody rude!
‘What a lovely surprise,’ Hans said, but his expression said otherwise.
‘I thought you didn’t like art galleries.’
‘I had to meet someone. She suggested here.’
‘Who is she?’
‘Someone I know from Berlin. It’s for work.’
Nancy didn’t believe that for a minute. ‘Working on a Saturday? That’s a bit much, isn’t it? She’s left her newspaper behind.’ Nancy nodded to the folded-up newspaper that was lying next to Hans’s thigh, right where the woman had been sitting. It was the same one that Olivia had purchased earlier with Monsieur Lambert on the front.
He grabbed the newspaper and hastily shoved it into his coat pocket. ‘She thought I would be interested in one of the articles. Shall we look around the rest of the gallery together while we’re both here?’ he asked, getting up.
Nancy was still annoyed with him. ‘No, I’d prefer to look round alone, thanks.’
He nodded. ‘See you after work on Tuesday?’
‘I guess so,’ she said, walking away.
Olivia was standing outside the main entrance to the Louvre when Nancy emerged.
‘Have you been waiting long?’ Nancy asked
‘I only just got here.’ Olivia said ‘Mission accomplished,’ she said, proudly holding up her haul of shopping bags.
Nancy guessed there were at least three shoe boxes in there.
Olivia must have read her mind. ‘There was a sale on. They were bargains. How was your cultural interlude?’
‘Even more interesting than I expected.’
‘Why?’
‘I bumped into Hans.’
‘That’s nice.’ Olivia looked delighted.
‘And a woman.’
Olivia’s face fell. ‘What woman?’
Nancy filled her in on what had happened.
‘He’s not taken Christa anywhere since he started meeting you for English lessons,’ Olivia said. ‘I thought you were in pole position to be his new love interest. Do you think this woman’s a girlfriend?’
‘She might be an old flame. Or it could have been a first date though she knew him well enough to sit right next to him. Whatever she is, he wasn’t happy to see me. Weird that she just walked off, though. If they were an item, wouldn’t she have stuck around to find out who I was? I know I would. And why bring a newspaper?’
‘He might have been telling the truth about her being a work colleague. You’ll have to see what you can find out at your next English lesson.’