Chapter Nine
When she got back to her studio, she took a long, hot, leisurely shower, then arranged the goodies Olivier had given her on two beautifully decorated Limoges plates she found in the cupboard and placed them on the coffee table. She flung open the French doors, which made her tiny attic retreat feel twice the size, then set the kettle to boil and made herself a mug of her favourite Earl Grey tea, before curling up on the sofa to enjoy her dinner, staring out at what she considered one of the best views of Le Marais.
Snatches of conversation and music floated up from the street below, along with the scuttle of pigeons fighting over a crust of baguette on the windowsill to her right, and the occasional aeroplane roaring across the starry sky heading for sunnier climes. Lights flickered at the windows of the building directly opposite hers, its curved zinc-encased top creating the iconic roofscape she would forever associate with Parisian architectural brilliance.
With a sigh of contentment, she tucked her feet under her bottom and had just selected one of Olivier’s mini roquefort-and-caramelised-onion tarts when her phone burst into life, and for the first time that day, her spirits soared.
‘Hey, Holly.’
‘Bonjour, Poppy. How’s Paris?’
‘Exhilarating, confusing, tiring, mesmerising, sophisticated, glamorous…’
‘Sound amazing! I’m so jealous. I’ve just spent the morning scrubbing out the kennels and washing dog beds, and the afternoon peeling potatoes for tonight’s service at the Fox Fiddle and then listening to Oscar explain how to attach beer pumps to kegs in order to ensure the “equilibrium pressure”. I’m not sure which task I enjoyed the least, although I did get to take Ariel and Max for a walk along the beach at lunchtime. Bracing, is how I would describe that.’
To Poppy’s surprise she experienced a sharp nip of homesickness. On Saturday nights, when she wasn’t braving the rollercoaster ride of the dating scene, she would join Holly or Rachel or Beckie, or all three of them, for a drink at the Fox Fiddle, sharing the ups and downs of her week at the coalface of Devonshire cuisine and listening to her friends offload the trials and tribulations of their own chosen professions.
‘How are things in Blossomwood Bay?’
‘Actually, that’s what I’m ringing you about. I’ve got some news.’
‘Is it Dexter? Have they found him?’
‘No, it’s better than that.’
Poppy tried hard to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. The last time she had spoken to Kath, she had told her that Andrew and his PCT guide Tuxson were adamant that they would find Dexter within the week, and that week was up today. She knew Kath, or Beckie, would call her as soon as there was any news, but being so far away, she felt out of the loop, and she resolved to keep in closer contact while she was in Paris.
‘Poppy, are you still there?’
‘Sorry, Holly, what’s your news?’
‘Suzie called,’ Holly exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement, and Poppy smiled when she heard a bark of approval in the background that she assumed had come from Ariel. ‘The police have arrested someone for the jewellery store robbery this morning and they’re currently being questioned in the presence of their solicitor. The detective overseeing the investigation has told Suzie that they will definitely be bringing charges, and any application for bail will be strenuously defended.’
‘Oh, that is fantastic news!’
‘They wouldn’t give Suzie any details over the phone, but she and Christos have an appointment at the police station in London first thing on Monday morning when they’ll be told not only the names of those involved in the actual theft of the watches from the store, but the identity of the person who was behind the robbery – and two others in the area – stealing items worth over five hundred thousand pounds.’
‘Does she have any idea who that is?’
Poppy knew how devastated Suzie had been when the media at the time had intimated that Suzie and her colleagues – Carmen and Fran?ois – had in some way been involved in what had happened, and she wondered whether it would turn out to be one of them after all.
‘No, she doesn’t. Carmen is still in Australia. She can’t afford to fly back to London, so the police have been keeping her informed via e-mail and video calls, but Fran?ois is on his way over from the South of France so they can go to the police station together.’
‘I’m so pleased that the ordeal will soon be over, and she can start to move on,’ said Poppy, her heart breaking for what Suzie had had to endure through no fault of her own. ‘It’s been hanging over her head for more than a year now, which is a traumatic situation for anyone to have to deal with. I hope Nathan is planning to write something about it.’
‘I said exactly the same thing. He’s told Suzie that his employers have given him carte blanche to write a no-holds-barred exposé about all the twists and turns of his investigation into the crime. As soon as they can name names, they intend to splash the whole story all over the internet. It’s a real coup for the newspaper he works for given that the armed robbery was widely reported at the time, or should I say “misreported”.’
‘So, Nathan knows who the police have arrested?’
‘He knows who the armed robbers were, but if he knows who masterminded everything, he’s not saying anything to Suzie and Christos. I supposed he’s been told not to reveal their identity until the time is right.’
‘Will you call me as soon as you hear anything?’
‘Of course. Now, tell me all about Paris. What’s it like working at a real French patisserie shop? Have you climbed up to the top of the Eiffel Tower? Have you visited Versailles? Have you stared in awe at the Mona Lisa? Have you ridden on one of the Bateaux Mouches, drinking Champagne as you watch the sun go down with a handsome French guy at your side? Oh, and have you started your novel yet?’
Poppy laughed. ‘That’s a lot of questions!’
She spent the next hour drinking tea, eating Olivier’s mouthwatering patisserie, and filling Holly in on everything she had done since arriving in Paris. She told her about Hélène and Gigi, about Gigi’s flawless taste in haute couture and her preference for riding instead of walking, and it was no surprise when Holly asked her to send her a photograph. She told her about the sightseeing tour Stéphane had taken her on, and the amazing bookshop he worked in that was filled with culinary tomes that she knew Oscar would drool over, just as she had. She also told her about her embarrassing, but productive, visit to Maison de Pierre, the laughter they shared over her language “slip up” helping to disperse the nip of homesickness she had experienced earlier.
She asked about Rachel and her plan to start a retreat business with Leo, and whether Holly had seen or heard anything from Chloe, and when they finally said their “au revoirs”, there was a wide smile on her face as she cleared away the detritus of her dinner and washed the delicate plates in the sink by hand.
Poppy was overjoyed that, at long last, Suzie was about to get the closure she deserved on the nightmare she had endured for far too long. She was also relieved that the person responsible for putting her and her colleagues through all that misery was about to face justice and receive the appropriate punishment for not only the financial loss they had caused, but also the pain and suffering of the innocent people who had been caught up in what had happened.
Suzie had suffered a barrage of traumas over the last year. First the armed robbery – which had resulted in her broken engagement because her fiancé Adam couldn’t face the potential damage to his reputation – then the destruction of her beach hut in the Blossomwood Bay fire, followed by the loss of her teepee home under the hooves of rampaging ex-racehorses that had escaped from their field.
However, Suzie had come through the turmoil, and her tenacity had been rewarded with a second chance at love. Poppy knew Suzie and Christos were planning to move in together in the next few weeks – Christos had recently switched his bunk on board his friend’s boat for one of the white-washed villas overlooking Santorini’s picturesque caldera – and she couldn’t be happier for her.
Maybe she should take inspiration from Suzie.
Surely lightening couldn’t strike twice?