A Perfect Paris Christmas - Mandy Baggot Page 0,30

it even harder. The accident – the lorry skidding on ice and crushing the side of the taxi Keeley and Bea were travelling in – was just that: an accident. There was nothing anyone could have done. There was no one to blame. And Keeley couldn’t blame her mum for being overprotective really. Keeley losing her sister had been unbearable – was still unbearable – but she couldn’t imagine how much worse it must have been to lose a child. Lizzie and Silvie had that awful, awful thing in common.

‘You could move out though,’ Rach suddenly said. ‘You mentioned it before we left. I mean, Lizzie would probably go ape-shit for a bit, but she’s not going to be able to make you stay.’

No, Rach was right. But was it really Lizzie making her stay? Or was it somehow her own guilt? Her guilt about being here. Surviving. Not being Bea…

‘I… don’t know.’ Keeley swallowed, a breeze whipping her hair around her face. ‘Places are expensive and… I didn’t get my deposit back on the office and…’

‘And Ken Jeong might one day know exactly who The Masked Singer is.’ Rach put a hand on her shoulder. ‘You could make excuses all day long. If you want something you have to go for it. That shouldn’t change just because you’re packing someone else’s piece.’

Rach was right again. And why did Keeley really need telling what she already knew. She had to start living life for herself and not for her parents. It wasn’t like she was going to move to the other side of the world. Although Lizzie did once say that a Tube ride to Tottenham had been like being aboard a Cambodian bamboo train she had no desire to revisit…

‘I mean, if you were looking to move, I could be persuaded to shift out of my tiny room in the tiny apartment with chain-smoker Bertram and look for something a bit bigger and more conducive with trying to get a proper boyfriend, not just one who eats, shoots and leaves.’

‘Is that what you want?’ Keeley asked, turning her attention to her friend.

‘What?’ Rach asked, suddenly looking like she wanted to retract her last words.

‘A proper boyfriend,’ Keeley said. ‘Someone long-term.’

‘I…’

‘Rach.’

‘I just want someone to look at me and see me,’ Rach admitted in a rush. ‘You know, not just the blonde hair and the big smile and the even bigger…’ She stopped then sniffed. ‘Someone who would… love me even if I was in my pyjamas.’

Keeley put an arm around her friend’s shoulders and squeezed. ‘You know I love you in your pyjamas.’

‘Which is why we need a place together. I’ve been thinking about leaving Bertram’s for ages. I just don’t have enough money to manage it on my own and I guess I thought you were settled at home, or I would have mentioned it before now.’

‘OK,’ Keeley said, excited by the sudden potential of change. ‘Obviously it wouldn’t be sensible to think about anything before Christmas but… after New Year… shall we look at some options?’

‘Yes!’ Rach said, turning and getting closer to Keeley to snap a selfie. ‘Yes, let’s do it. God, why didn’t we think of this before? It’s going to be brilliant. We can eat takeaway together and we’ll find a place with a pub on the corner we can walk to together and we’ll… get a dog… or a cat… or a giant African land snail.’

Keeley didn’t have the heart to tell Rach she was running away with herself a little. Moving out of home was going to be expensive. It was likely there wasn’t going to be spare cash for drinks at the pub or Just Eat or pets. But she wasn’t going to dampen Rach’s happiness now and it felt really good to make plans. Maybe this chance in Paris was going to be the start of something much more than finding out about her donor, maybe it was going to be the beginning of everything.

Twelve

L’Hotel Paris Parfait, Opera District, Paris

Ethan picked a sugared almond from the bowl now on the reception desk and popped it into his mouth. It was either keep eating the sweets or start biting his nails again. Except his nails were already down to the quick from an earlier nibbling session when the Christmas décor began to arrive. He checked his phone again. Nothing. Desperate to know what time he should expect Louis to turn up, he had sent an email and a text to Silvie.