A Perfect Paris Christmas - Mandy Baggot Page 0,140

you here with me the whole time. So… it’s à bientôt,’ she said. ‘Only à bientôt.’

‘What you said,’ Erica rasped out before the call ended.

Keeley held the phone away from her, not quite ready to let go yet. But then she tapped at the screen, eager to do one more thing she knew would make her friend happy. Finding the photo of her and Ethan she took a second to let the image hit all her senses. She ran a finger over Ethan’s face, along that jawline, down his aquiline nose to the breadth of his smile. She looked so happy, carefree and that was something she hadn’t felt in such a long time. Whatever happened next, how could she ever regret meeting Ethan exactly as she had met him? By chance. Absolutely, completely by chance. With a penguin.

Keeley added the photo to Erica’s message stream and watched the picture send and be delivered. Those three bubbles immediately appeared and then, eventually, came Erica’s reply: a single red heart.

Keeley’s own heart swelled and she leaned against the window of the patisserie to try and steady herself. The shopping arcade was starting to spin a little.

‘Keels?’

Rach’s voice brought Keeley back to. ‘Oh, Rach, I—’

‘Has he not turned up?’ Rach snapped.

‘I…’ Keeley checked her watch. She hadn’t really noticed how fast the minutes were ticking by. 11.30 a.m. For whatever reason, Ethan wasn’t coming.

‘Come on,’ Rach said. Once she had coordinated shopping bags, she put an arm around Keeley’s shoulders. ‘Let’s go in here and have a cake or something.’

‘I… can’t eat anything,’ Keeley said, still feeling a little wobbly on her feet.

‘Coffee then and you can watch me eat something.’

A familiar bark halted their advance into the café and before Keeley could move, Bo-Bo was there, up on his hind legs and leaping to lick her face.

‘Bo-Bo! Down!’

‘Bloody dog!’ Rach remarked. ‘It needs to learn a little social distancing.’

Keeley looked to Jeanne who was wearing a coat a few sizes too big for her with the buttons done up wrong. It was like she might have put it on in a hurry.

‘Hi,’ Jeanne said, pulling Bo-Bo’s lead a little tighter in her fist.

‘Hi,’ Keeley greeted, her voice almost failing her. ‘Is Ethan OK? Is something wrong?’

Jeanne shook her head. ‘He is not coming. But, I am positive… given a little time he will…’ She didn’t finish the sentence.

Keeley didn’t understand. Ethan had been so desperate to speak to her last night. And this morning, in reply to her message, he’d said he would be here. Why wasn’t he here now when she so desperately needed to tell him her truth?

‘Well, where is he?’ Rach demanded to know. ‘Because standing someone up isn’t cool.’

Jeanne pulled Bo-Bo to heel again and the mutt sat down next to her. ‘He knows,’ the girl said softly. ‘About… your connection to… his best friend. To Ferne.’

Keeley crumpled, her fingers finding Rach’s bag-filled arm and her body listing. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. She wanted to be the one to tell him. How did he know? Who had told him before she could? Surely not Silvie…

‘How does he know?’ Rach asked the question, gathering Keeley close to her and letting the bags drop to the floor. ‘It’s OK,’ she whispered to Keeley. ‘It’s going to be OK.’

‘Someone called… Louis?’ Jeanne said. ‘I heard it all… from the top of the staircase and, well…’ She sniffed, then wiped at her nose with her sleeve. ‘So, I came because I wanted you to know that… I am going to look after him, the way he has looked after me and… when he has had time to think… he will want to see you. I know he will.’

Keeley couldn’t concentrate on what Jeanne was saying to her, all she could feel was the bottom falling out of her world again. Erica. Ethan. Everything. She felt her body slide down to the floor.

Sixty-Four

L’Hotel Paris Parfait, Tour Eiffel, Paris

Five days later

‘Antoine,’ Rach purred. ‘Do you have any more of those sugar-coated sweeties that were on your desk?’

‘Are they for the general festive decoration? Or are they for your own consumption?’ Antoine asked.

Keeley looked up from her clipboard and focused on her best friend leaning across the desk and displaying more than the probably accepted level of cleavage for the cold weather. She shook her head at the conversation, but all the while she was smiling. Rach’s budding relationship with their concierge was a bright spot in an otherwise turbulent few