Chapter 27
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
We both stopped dead, like naughty children caught in the act.
Gabby was mock-glaring at us, one dark, perfect, laminated (if I wasn’t mistaken) brow raised in question. I definitely needed to ask her where she got them done.
‘Where do you get your brows done?’
Not now, you chump!
‘What?’
‘Your eyebrows are the stuff of dreams. This,’ I rolled my eyes up as though to look at my own brows, ‘is the first time I’ve had my brows done in yonks!
And that was at Sasha’s insistence. Mostly, I just ping out the odd grey or rampant – or grey and rampant – ones when I spot them in the mirror along with those super-long hairs that seem to sprout on your face literally overnight.
Although I bet you don’t get those. I’m not sure they’d dare! ’
By this point, both Gabby and Tomas were staring at me.
‘Sorry. I had the thought and it…’ I made a rolling sort of gesture with my hand, ‘all sort of tumbled out. I only meant to make a mental note to ask you where you go but I’m not sure there’s much space up there at the moment.’
They were still staring at me.
‘Sorry,’ I said again. And then I burped. If Sasha were here, she’d have filed familial divorce papers by now.
‘Sorry. Again,’ I mumbled, my hand in front of my mouth.
Still silence. Then Gabby snorted. Proper snorted, her eyes crinkling with laughter and filling with joyful tears.
‘I knew she was still in there somewhere!’ she cried, her words full of delight. ‘I told you!’ she said as she pulled me into the tightest hug I’d ever had in my life. I was pretty sure I turned blue for a few seconds before she stood me back. ‘Welcome back! I’m so happy to see you again!’
‘Where did I go?’
‘Oh, ma chérie, I don’t know but you’re here now! Or at least back on the right path.’
‘Oh. That’s…’ I looked at Tomas, who was grinning. ‘Good to know. I think.’
‘Right,’ Gabby said, appearing to regain her composure.
‘We’ll come back to this later. In the meantime, as much as I would love to let you young lovers sneak off for a romantic meal and stroll along the Seine at midnight, I need my brother to come and be charming.
’ She threw him a look. ‘It’s a long shot, I know, but do try, because I have my eye on some to-die-for shoes at Christian Dior and therefore need as much commission as possible. ’
‘He was always charming,’ I said, then frowned at the fact words kept falling out of my mouth.
Usually, I just stood there and nodded in agreement, smiled, or filled an awkward silence with something inane, depending on what the situation called for, and then went home.
Admittedly, I didn’t normally drink champagne.
At least rarely more than a glass. But it wasn’t just that.
I knew it wasn’t just that. There was something else.
Was it my friends? Was it the clothes Gabby had lent me? Was it Paris? Was it Tomas?
‘Once upon a time, he was,’ Gabby said, prodding me from my ponderings. ‘But he turned rather moody and grumpy once you left.’
‘That’s not true.’ Tomas frowned at his sister. ‘It’s not true,’ he repeated, looking at me this time.
She gave a ‘poof’ of disbelief. ‘Come on. I’m not doing all the work. Allez!’
‘It’d be very rude to leave our guest.’ Tomas was stalling. Clearly mingling really wasn’t his thing these days.
‘I’ll look after Kitty,’ she said, tucking her arm around mine. ‘Now, go!’
Tomas hesitated, glanced at me, which was no help as I was trying not to laugh at him being bossed around by his younger sister, the situation different, decades passed, but still so very familiar.
‘I thought you’d be on my side.’
Gabrielle huffed. ‘For goodness’ sake, Tomas! Don’t be obtuse.’
We looked at each other.
‘You have a hell of a lot more making up to do before Kitty’s on your side. Also.’ She tapped the side of her nose. ‘Girlfriends stick together.’ She gave me a squeeze. ‘At least the good ones do. Now go!’
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he finally obeyed and wandered off to be charming.
‘Ooh la la!’ Gabby shook her head. ‘Mon frère! Alors, I have someone very interesting for you to meet. Come with me.’
We began crossing the gallery, arms still linked, me still getting used to the stilettos Gabby had lent me. Thankfully, not as high as hers but certainly more so than the shoes I’d fallen into the habit of wearing at home.
‘I noticed Benoit and Sasha appear to be getting along very well.’ She gestured with her chin towards a corner where Sash was leaning against a wall, her head tilted up as she laughed at whatever Tomas’s godson was saying.
‘He’s one of the good ones.’ Gabby read my mind, just as she always had done.
‘Good to know. Not that she’s mentioned any interest in relationships at the moment.
She came out of a long-term one a little over a year ago,’ I filled in my friend.
‘It was unexpected on her side and left her rather bruised but thankfully, she had her work to throw herself into and, although I would never say it to her, I think he did her a favour.’
‘You didn’t like him.’ No question, just a statement.
‘It wasn’t that I didn’t like him, as such.’
‘He wasn’t right for her.’
‘He wasn’t. And I didn’t think he treated her in the way she deserved to be.’
‘Like a princess.’
‘In the good way, yeah.’
‘Absolutely. None of us need rescuing these days but that doesn’t mean we don’t want, or deserve, to be treated like the queens that we are.’
‘Exactly.’
‘So, let’s leave them to it for the moment. I have the most interesting lady I want you to meet. I was chatting to her about the fact we studied fashion together. She used to work at Christian Dior’s atelier.’
‘Wow!’
‘I know. And she ended up marrying one of the clients who used to accompany his mother.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, isn’t that romantic?’
‘Wait, that’s her?’ I faltered in my step as I saw the diamond-draped lady from earlier.
‘Oui. What’s the matter?’
‘I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m fairly sure I don’t have anything to say that would be of interest to someone like that.’
‘Someone like that?’
‘Come on, Gabs. The only reason I even look like I fit in here is because I’ve borrowed your clothes.
’ There was certainly nothing in my wardrobe that had been fit for an event this chic.
With a sartorial sixth sense, Gabby had arrived at the apartment earlier with a suit carrier slung over her shoulder and a Chanel overnight bag hanging on her arm.
‘Just in case!’ she’d said, gesturing to the items. Putting them on, although they were far removed from my usual style, had caused the years to float away once more, and we were back to those young women, swapping clothes and gossiping about the upcoming evening.
‘Oui, that is true,’ she replied.
‘Ouch.’ I knew it was true but some attempt at padding around her answer might have been nice.
She tilted her head. ‘I was just agreeing with you.’
‘You didn’t have to!’
‘But it is true, ma chérie. You said as much yourself. It’s no big deal.
You always had a great eye, and now it’s time to focus it back on you after so long of looking after everyone else.
But that can wait for a moment. Now,’ she continued leading me, still somewhat reluctantly on my part, towards the other guest, ‘smile, Kitty! She won’t eat you.
Oh, mon dieu, what is that?’ she asked as she glanced at me, laughter in her voice.
‘You said smile. I’m smiling!’
‘Are you sure?’
I blew her a raspberry just before we got into earshot.
‘That’s better. Alors…’
Dior lady stood, her hands outstretched to take mine. ‘Now you must be Kitty. Gabrielle has told me all about you and your adventures together in Paris. I am Reine Dubaire.’
‘Bonsoir, Madame Dubaire.’ I caught myself just before I curtseyed. She gave off that sort of vibe.
‘No, no, no. You must call me Reine. Now.’ She glanced over at a waiter and he immediately turned towards us, as though she’d sent out a tractor beam from her striking blue eyes.
‘Here we are.’ She lifted the glasses off the tray, handing one to each of us.
‘Tell me all about your studies in Paris. I want to hear it all!’
‘I’d much rather hear about your time in the atelier.’
‘Then we shall both get our wish.’ She patted the space next to her on the sofa and I took my place.
‘I shall leave you two to get to know one another.’
‘Thank you, Gabby.’ Reine looked at me. ‘I think that will be lovely.’
* * *
She was right, but it was more than just lovely; it was wonderful.
Two hours later, we were still sitting on the sofa, having done a round of the gallery again, Reine asking my opinion on the paintings as we stopped at each one, studying them, appreciating them.
She noticed things I didn’t and the more we talked, the more I appreciated them.
‘Tomas has a very distinct brushwork, so long as you know what you’re looking for.’
‘He does?’
‘Yes. But what I love the most about his paintings is that they are real. There is so much heart in them.’ She placed a beringed hand to her chest as she said this. ‘I’m not a fan of modern art so much. Perhaps that is old-fashioned?’
‘No, I don’t think so. Art, like fashion, books, any creative pursuit is entirely subjective. We like what we like.’
‘That is true. And what is it you like, my dear?’
‘Honestly? I’m not even sure I know any more.’
‘Then,’ she said, ‘we must do something about that.’
By the end of the evening, Reine and I were firm friends and I had had one of the most interesting conversations of my life.
Reine’s tales of her time in the atelier of one of the world’s most recognised couture houses had me asking question after question, apologising each time for doing so.
That was until Reine told me that if I apologised one more time, she wasn’t going to say another word. That did the trick.
‘Never apologise for being interested in someone, my dear,’ she said, her accent a heady mix of her native Provence and the place she had called home now for many decades – Paris. ‘It is what everyone wishes for, even if they profess differently.’
‘I suppose that is true.’
‘There’s no “suppose” about it. I grew up very poor and was lucky enough to be taught a skill which I used to get myself a life that I wouldn’t have had without it.
Not to mention that without that skill, I wouldn’t have met the love of my life.
Nearly sixty years ago, I was walking down the aisle in a Christian Dior dress that I’d helped create.
Had anyone told that little girl in the tiny village in Provence that one day, she would be doing so, she’d have run to her mother and asked her to make the strange person telling tales to go away!
And yet I did and here I am now. Privileged enough to meet people like you and Tomas and Gabrielle.
Life has been good enough to afford me that.
‘But I knew what I wanted, and that helped. I knew I wanted to leave the confines of the village. The glossy magazines I managed to get hold of second or third hand showed me there was so much more out there to see. I set my heart on Paris without ever seeing it. And I was determined to work in one of the best ateliers in Paris. I’d have accepted Chanel at a push.
’ She wrinkled her nose a little and I laughed at the thought of Reine turning up nose up at Coco Chanel and what the lady herself might have thought of that.
‘I’d always loved Dior. So beautiful. So feminine. Just perfection in style and design, and of course, workmanship.’ She winked at me and for a moment, I got a glance of the young woman that she had been, marching into that famous address on Avenue Montaigne and advising them to take her on.
‘I was a pushy little vache, now I look back on it,’ she said, amusement in her voice.
‘But the world is a tough place. Some people get things handed on a plate. Others don’t and those are the ones who need to work the hardest, but they’re also the ones, like me, that can be the proudest of themselves.
’ She took my hand and put it to my chest. ‘Remember what it was you wanted when you first came to Paris and then decide, in here,’ she indicated where my hand lay over my heart, ‘if it’s still the same thing. ’
‘Oh, Reine, I’m far too old to follow those dreams now.’
She tutted at me. ‘Rubbish. One is never too old, merely too timid.’
‘Wow!’ I said, surprise mixing with my laughter.
These women were brutal tonight – but that didn’t mean they were wrong.