A Perfect Paris Christmas - Mandy Baggot Page 0,101
you OK?’ Keeley asked.
He felt her hands then, holding onto his arms and helping him up off the ground. He urged his body to comply. The last thing he needed right now was bumps, bruises or a face as red and lumpy as Louis’s.
‘I am OK,’ he answered, finally standing and trying to make sense of the scene. There were a few broken glasses on the floor and the stallholder was already out sweeping away the destruction. ‘Monsieur, I am very sorry for the damage. Let me pay for it. It is my dog that has caused this.’ He reached into his pocket for his wallet.
‘He’s my dog,’ Jeanne said, Bo-Bo now back on his lead and dancing around a little bit less.
The owner of the stall accepted more than half of the Euro notes in his wallet. Those glasses had to be from at least the Victorian era or maybe he had just been taken for a ride. At this moment Ethan didn’t care. He faced Jeanne. ‘You must control him better.’
‘I was,’ she exclaimed. ‘It is the new lead the man who doesn’t like anything touched put on him. I have not got used to it yet.’ She smiled. ‘Can I get another brioche?’
‘Jeanne! Another one?’ Ethan exclaimed.
‘Please!’ She put her hands together in a begging stance and almost dropped Bo-Bo’s lead for a second time.
Ethan pulled another note from his wallet and gave it to her. ‘One brioche and two coffees. Ask them to wrap the brioche so you can put it into your pocket while you carry the coffees.’ He took the lead out of Jeanne’s hands. ‘And I will look after Bo-Bo.’ He ensured a good grip on the lead. ‘You remember where the stall is.’
‘I’ve got it,’ Jeanne answered with a nod. ‘Two coffees and two brioches.’
Before Ethan could protest about the doubling of the brioche order, Jeanne was off into the hubbub again. Ethan tried to elongate his spine, the tumble definitely having strained something. Finally he smiled at Keeley and gave a small bow. ‘Good afternoon.’
Keeley laughed. ‘Good afternoon.’ She gave a curtsey, holding the edge of her bright red coat and doing a quick bob.
Ethan sighed, giving himself a little time to be mindful. His body was already starting to loosen, simply from enjoying her smile. ‘We must try to stop meeting like this,’ he said. ‘Or one of us might get really injured.’
‘I agree,’ Keeley said, nodding. ‘My bruises from my brush with you and the penguin are still stuck between blue and purple.’
‘It is the animals!’ Ethan declared, putting his arms to the heavens. ‘They are to blame for everything.’ He put his arms back down and smiled at her. ‘What brings you to Les Puces?’
‘Well, it’s getting closer to Christmas and I need to get some gifts organised. Plus Rach is a huge fan of shopping and… well…’ She looked a little bashful then. ‘It was on your map.’
He had put the market with over three thousands stalls on the map he had made for her because it had been one of his regular places to visit. In the darkest times of his youth he had escaped here with half a dozen other orphans to take part in picking the pockets of anyone they had marked as having money. He had also come here with Ferne, trying to find a chink of treasure, a hidden or long-forgotten work from Picasso or Matisse, antique furniture as a gift for Silvie. Two very different sides of his time spent here. Two eras of his life as far removed from each other as could be.
‘It is a unique place,’ Ethan remarked. ‘Shall we walk?’ He offered her the arm that was not bearing the weight of a feisty Bo-Bo.
He watched Keeley turn, her eyes on a table a little way away.
‘Rach is over there, but she looks to be in a deep bartering session.’
‘Not far,’ Ethan assured. ‘Jeanne will need to find us.’
Keeley took his arm and her touch sent his head spinning for the second time today. Their connection just somehow felt right.
‘Today people come here expecting to spend a lot of money. There are antiques everywhere,’ Ethan told her. ‘Some stalls are a subsidiary of an established business elsewhere in Paris. They move some of their pieces here into the hub where rich collectors and interior designers, like yourself, come to find extravagant pieces to fill an investment request or style a home.’