Chapter 28
Picturing labels like Dior, Chanel, Louis Vuitton and Lanvin, I couldn’t believe I was in France, the world’s biggest fashion powerhouse known for its haute couture, buying clothes from a supermarket.
However, as I browsed the women’s clothing section, I swallowed my disappointment and looking down at Mum’s slacks and anti-slip fur-lined boots, consoled myself in the knowledge it was a case of needs must. Both for my image and my bank balance.
I sighed. Unlike in a UK store, where there were lines upon lines to choose from, French options were limited and as I moved from one rail to another, I struggled to find anything I liked. I picked up a cardigan for closer inspection, but unhappy with its finish, put it back down.
I told myself I was overthinking and realising I was only going to be sat in a car anyway, randomly chose three of the same oversized sweaters, but each in a different colour.
I picked up some plain T-shirts and a couple of pairs of baggy jeans and threw a pack of knickers, some socks and a couple of bras into my basket.
To complete my new wardrobe, I headed to the shoe section and quickly chose a pair of black faux leather chunky ankle boots.
All that was left was for me to try things on.
As I went in search of the changing room, I wondered if I should pick up a little something for Hattie and Joyce.
French chatter abound, the air of festive excitement amongst staff and shoppers alike was contagious and being Christmas Eve, it seemed only right I did something Christmassy too, even if it was on the cheap.
There might not have been much choice when it came to clothes, but wandering around the store, I had to admit its food selection was fabulous.
I took in trays of oysters and scallops next to whole salmons and crabs lying on a bed of ice.
There was foie gras with jars of persimmon jelly and onion chutneys.
As for the cheeses, with choices like Mimolette, Camembert, Brie, Comté and Raclette, I was in fromage heaven.
From crunchy and powerful praline to creamy velvety ganache, the festive chocolate assortments on offer looked just as divine.
One for Hattie and one for Joyce, I put two boxes on top of the knickers in my basket.
About to go on my way I paused and put in a third.
‘Merry Christmas, Erin,’ I said, happy to treat myself too.
As I continued my shopping, it saddened me to think that in less than twenty-four hours it would be Christmas Day.
Even if Theo and I were to catch up with Mum and Jackson, none of us would be back in Settledown in time for our festive celebrations.
It was going to be a Christmas I’d never forget, but for all the wrong reasons.
Although on the plus side, at least I wouldn’t have to feign excitement over a crystal and gemstone Bonsai.
I reminded myself I wasn’t the only one missing out. Theo probably wasn’t looking forward to spending his Christmas Day on a French motorway either. I looked down at the items in my basket and my mouth curved into a smile.
There was room for one more gift.
* * *
‘What took you so long?’ Arms folded, Theo leant against the side of his Smart car. He checked his wristwatch. ‘Aren’t you the one who said we’re pushing for time?’
‘I had to try things on,’ I replied. ‘It’s not like I can return items if they don’t fit.’ I opened the passenger door. ‘Cover me.’ I took off my coat and tossing both it and my carrier bags onto the driver’s seat, climbed in and began to undress.
Theo immediately turned away. ‘You could have used the changing rooms.’
‘For people to think I’m shoplifting?’ Goosebumps pricked my skin and I hastily put on a newly acquired T-shirt. ‘In a country where I can’t speak the language.’ I kicked off Mum’s black anti-slip boots and lifting my bum, slid off her beige slacks. ‘I don’t think so.’
A man and woman with a trolley load of bags made an approach.
‘Bonjour,’ Theo said to them.
‘Nice accent. Sounds like Mum isn’t the only fan of Duolingo,’ I said.
Theo stepped to the back of our vehicle trying to block the couple’s view as they passed and realising they were parked next to us, he continued to edge round, only coming to stop once he reached my door.
The couple recognised Theo was trying to hide something and craning their necks to identify what, they were too close not to see me struggling into a pair of jeans.
As the couple and I froze, my eyes darted from the woman to the man and back again and with no other choice, I fixed a smile on my face.
‘Hello,’ I said, giving them a little wave.
Their facial expressions relaxed and the couple burst out laughing.
‘La femme anglaise,’ the woman said.
‘Qui d’autre?’ the man replied.
Shaking their heads, the couple’s amusement continued and as they turned their attention to their own vehicle, I hastily buttoned up my jeans.
I put on the pair of black chunky boots and finished my outfit with one of the cosy oversized sweaters. Hot and bothered thanks to the exertion, I took a deep breath and exhaled. I stuffed Mum’s clothes into a carrier bag and grabbing the others, got out of the car.
Theo looked me up and down as if assessing my efforts. ‘I think the slacks looked better,’ he said.
‘Very funny.’ I lifted the boot but thanks to Theo’s mammoth food shop every nook and cranny had been filled.
‘How long do you think we’re going to be here?
’ I asked. Closing the boot, I got back into the passenger seat and stuffed my bags into the footwell.
‘How much do I owe you?’ Conscious I hadn’t been paying my way, I hated being indebted to anyone; financial or otherwise.
Theo climbed in beside me. ‘Nothing.’
‘At least let me put some petrol in the car,’ I said.
‘Already done.’ Theo put his key in the ignition. ‘Any update from Maeve yet?’
Irritated at being dismissed, I pulled my phone from my handbag and steeling myself, signed into Mum’s TikTok. My heart felt like it stopped for a second. ‘There is.’ I looked to Theo who, after Mum’s previous offering, appeared equally nervous.