saw Rach making her way back to the table. She took a deep breath. ‘OK.’
Twenty-Four
L’Hotel Paris Parfait, Tour Eiffel, Paris
‘I can’t go.’
Keeley’s heart was racing so much it felt like she was still in those first tentative days of recovery, her body battered and bruised from the accident as well as the operation, a cast on her arm and a bandage around her skull, every breath bringing excruciating pain and utter fatigue. She’d got ready, even making a special effort with her outfit. She hadn’t been sure what people wore to go to the ballet in Paris, because the nearest she’d got to anything ‘theatre’ was watching Hamilton in the West End. And people didn’t tend to dress up for matinee performances at all…
‘What?’ Rach looked up from her phone.
Keeley shook her head at her friend who was still sitting cross-legged on her bed like she had been since Keeley’s ‘getting ready’ had started an hour ago. It was six o’clock now. She was supposed to be at the theatre at half-past for pre-performance drinks. ‘It’s… too much.’
Her breathing pattern felt uncomfortable and she put a hand to her chest, fingers brushing the burgundy corduroy fabric of the Topshop dress she was wearing. It was smart-casual at best, but it was long-sleeved and warm and more snow was predicted that night. She tried to steady the in and out motion, be mindful of her breath like the counsellor had taught her.
‘OK,’ Rach said, unfurling her legs and getting up. ‘You just need to relax. This isn’t a big thing.’
‘But it is a big thing,’ Keeley immediately blurted. ‘It’s a huge thing.’
‘It’s not a date,’ Rach said, making her way over to Keeley. ‘This is how you usually get before a date.’
‘I don’t have dates.’
‘OK, wrong choice of words.’ Rach started again. ‘This is how you get before we go out for drinks where there might be the chance of meeting someone.’
‘I shouldn’t have said I would go.’
When they’d left Silvie outside Café Marly, Keeley had said again that she would think about it. And then, very quickly – obviously a little too quickly – under the influence of fine food and feeling that the lunch had been a success, she had actually accepted the ballet invitation. But now the thought of going and meeting another member of Ferne’s family so soon, felt insurmountable.
‘It’s been a big day already and… you wouldn’t be with me and… it’s a man and…’ Keeley stopped talking when she realised she didn’t know what else to say. Was she blowing this out of all proportion?
‘And what bit of that sentence is freaking you out the most?’ Rach asked. She was stood in front of Keeley now, her eyes locked on hers, soft yet definitely questioning her sanity. There had never been anywhere to hide when it came to her best friend. Rach was honest to a fault and never one for lowering the curtain on things. Sometimes Keeley was really grateful for it. Other times not so much… like right about now.
‘It’s not him being a man.’ Keeley blew out a breath she’d been holding tight, as if someone had knotted her throat like a party balloon.
‘Are you sure?’ Rach asked, still all scrutiny.
‘Yes.’ Keeley nodded. ‘I’m sure I would feel the same if I was supposed to be meeting a sister instead of a brother.’ She wasn’t completely sure.
‘So, it’s just the high drama of carrying around one of his sister’s internal organs.’
‘Just?’ Keeley said, letting go of another breath. She moved towards the balcony doors then, needing to look at something other than her best friend. It was dark outside now, Paris lights brightening the cloudy skies, headlights streaming back and forth along the road, cafés all warm and inviting, storefronts glittering with festiveness…
‘Well, how about I go with you?’ Rach said. ‘I’ll buy a ticket and I’ll come along.’
‘Do you think we could do that?’ Keeley asked, looking back to Rach.
‘No,’ Rach said. ‘It sounds exclusive and expensive and I probably can’t afford it. And there’s no way I’d be able to get a ticket anywhere near you. Plus, all my dresses are probably too short for the theatre.’
‘What?’
‘Never mind.’
Keeley deflated again. She had been anticipating a pragmatic solution. Even though it shouldn’t be up to Rach to bail her out. It was easy. She either went to the ballet or she didn’t. A quick text to Silvie saying she didn’t feel very well wouldn’t be that far from the truth at