Chapter 16 #2
‘This isn’t going to go overnight and I can’t imagine he’s here for long.
’ I twiddled my neat bob that was someway between chin and shoulder – a sensible style, like everything else about me these days – and longed for the thick mane I’d had the last time I was here, not least to help cover some of my face in a chic, Veronica Lake look.
‘True. What are you going to do?’
I shrugged. ‘I either cancel and not see Ashok, which would be a shame, or brazen it out.’
We exchanged a look.
‘I know,’ I said, reading the expression she was trying her hardest to hide. ‘Brazening anything out is not exactly my style.’
‘I didn’t say anything.’
‘You didn’t have to,’ I replied with a wry smile. ‘I’ve spent a lifetime reading your face.’
‘It’s not that I don’t think you can do it. I just know you’d rather not,’ Sash said.
‘Very true. But here we are.’
Sash covered what she could with a thick layer of foundation and concealer and we headed over to the market. The clear skies of yesterday had been swapped out for overcast ones but Sash insisted that wearing the sunglasses she handed me was a good idea.
‘You’ll just look chic and mysterious.’
Chic was pushing it in my caterpillar coat but I liked the sound of mysterious. It made me feel more interesting than I had in decades.
As it was, once we got to the market, I forgot about everything but the fabulous array of foodstuffs laid out on stall after stall under the cover of the bridge of the Metro that rumbled above.
Sash was in heaven, filming it all, and, although she didn’t think I noticed, I knew she’d snuck a couple of shots of me asking about some fish and buying some vegetables for a ratatouille I planned on making for dinner tomorrow night.
Caught up in the excitement of it all, I let it slide.
The glasses she’d lent me were oversized and I’d draped a pale-pink scarf around my neck, covering a little of the bland polyester.
Admittedly, it would take a lot more than a pretty scarf to salvage this outfit but it was a start.
* * *
‘Hi, it’s Ashok.’ His voice came through the intercom for the apartment and a warm feeling of familiarity rushed through me on hearing it.
‘Hi! I didn’t realise you were coming in person. Come up!’ I buzzed him in and went to the door to greet him. ‘Ashok’s here.’ I turned to Sash, who was just grabbing her bag to go out.
‘Oh, great! I thought I was going to miss him.’
I opened the door ajar and moments later, our friend’s handsome face peeked around it. ‘Bonsoir!’ His eyes met mine. ‘Holy shit!’ He pulled me into a hug. ‘Are you OK? What happened?’
‘I slipped in the bath. Oh, it’s so good to see you! I can’t believe you’re here.’
‘I know. I was so hoping you’d be free. It feels like so long since Goa but what is it, two months? Is that right?’
‘About that. And now I’m here in Paris and it’s all your fault!’ I laughed then hugged him again. ‘Come and sit down while I finish getting ready.’
Sash rushed into the room and a hug. ‘Ashok! I didn’t think I was going to get to see you!’
‘A fleeting visit but so long as I get a hug, I’ll call it a win. Katherine said you were meeting some fellow YouTubers?’
‘Yes. I’m a bit nervous, to be honest.’
‘Are you?’ I asked. She hadn’t mentioned that to me but then, as I’d discovered on our holiday, Ashok had a way of drawing out people’s secrets.
‘Yeah, a little.’ She scrunched up her face. ‘What if they don’t like me? Or don’t think I’m as… I don’t know, sophisticated as they are. I don’t want to look like an idiot.’
I pulled her into a hug then stood her back, my hands holding hers. ‘I highly doubt any of that. If they do think that, then they aren’t worth knowing in the first place. You are brilliant, beautiful and strong. That’s all you need to know.’
Sash’s eyes flicked to Ashok.
‘What she said,’ he agreed, tilting his head my way.
Her smile returned. ‘Thanks, Mum. I love you.’
‘I love you, too. Have a great night and keep in touch, OK? No walking home on your own.’
‘Mum, I’ll be fine. Stop worrying.’
‘Yeah, that’s never going to happen,’ Ashok put in. ‘Also, can we talk about this?’ He made a circular motion around his face.
‘I’ll leave you to it.’ Sash grabbed another hug from Ashok, told him to come back soon before kissing me on the cheek and heading out, closing the door behind her.
‘She’ll be fine.’ Ashok touched my hand and I realised my gaze had lingered on the door.
‘Yes, I’m sure.’
‘So?’ he asked, pointedly. ‘You said you slipped?’
I rolled my eyes and quickly stopped as apparently, that’s ridiculously painful when you’ve got two black ones.
‘Yep. And headbutted the bath on my way down.’
‘One night in Paris and the bathtub has managed to offend you?’
‘No. Actually, it was all perfect! And then I ruined it by forgetting how slippery bath oil can make surfaces.’
‘Ah. Are you sure you want to go out?’
‘No, but neither do I want to miss the opportunity to spend time with you.’
‘We could eat in.’
‘But you wanted to check out the hotel.’
‘Ideally, yes, but not if you’re sore or it will make you uncomfortable.’
‘It’s not ideal, I agree. Sash lent me some sunglasses to go out to the market.
That felt a bit odd to start but I forgot about them after a while.
However, wearing sunglasses inside, at night, would seem a little bit too “extra”, as my daughter would say.
I’ll whack a bit more make-up over the worst bits in a minute.
’ I paused. ‘Does it make you uncomfortable?’
‘Me? No.’
‘People might… you know… look at us a bit funny.’
‘Let them.’
I’d learned in India that Ashok had a very healthy attitude to people whose opinions didn’t matter.
His philosophy was ‘let them’. As in, let them think what they want.
It doesn’t actually matter. Which was both true and sensible and something I was very much still struggling with.
Twenty-year-old me would have, and did, agree with this wholeheartedly, only faltering when it had come to my friends’ mother that fateful day.
But the self-belief I’d had then, like many other things, was much changed over the years.
‘Take a pew and give me a few minutes,’ I said to Ashok before disappearing back into the bedroom. Foundation in hand, I dabbed on another couple of layers. The bruising was softened but there was no denying its presence.
I stared at my reflection in the dressing-table mirror, took a breath, grabbed hold of those big-girl pants once more, yanked them until they were pretty much under my chin and walked back out to where Ashok was taking in the evening view from the window.
‘Let’s go.’