to turn.’
‘Bof!’ Ethan scoffed. ‘Have you seen the size of some of the children in this day from all the chocolat.’
This might not have been the quiet, thought-processing stroll through the city she had envisaged when Rach had left her for the theatre, but it was definitely lightening her mood. Suddenly the ride jerked forward and Keeley had to grab the lion’s neck to steady herself. An ‘oof’ left her mouth and then she laughed as the roundabout settled at slug-pace slow. ‘But… we haven’t paid!’
Ethan laughed then, looking across at her. ‘You English people do worry about everything, do you not?’
‘You say that as if it’s a bad thing.’
‘I read recently that when you panic you buy antibacterial handwash and toilet paper.’
Keeley sat firm, unmoved by his statement. ‘We like to be prepared for any eventuality. Some of us stockpile chocolate and wine too.
‘What do you fill your cupboards with?’ she asked. ‘Or do the French people not panic about anything?’
‘We fill our cupboards with cigarettes, cheese, red wine and baguettes of course.’
Keeley looked at his straight expression, somehow knowing it was going to turn into a smile. Except it didn’t.
‘What?’ he asked, tone brusque. ‘You think I am joking with you?’
‘I…’
And then his face did crack and he laughed. ‘Of course I am joking with you! English! So serious!’ He put fingers to his eyebrows and, together with a face contortion, he moved them down into a frown. She couldn’t help feeling a little bit stupid. She was serious by nature. More so now than ever before. And it was going to take more than a pep talk from Erica or riding on a fibreglass lion to shift the layers of caution that had built up over her foundations this past year.
‘I was not insulting you,’ Ethan said quickly, maybe sensing his try for humour hadn’t hit the spot. ‘You might be serious as a nation, but you are right – you are organised and methodical in all your approaches. You will live longer. We French take too many risks.’
Keeley swallowed. She was living now, but living as long as a normal-haven’t-had-an-organ-transplant person might hope to live, well, that wasn’t in any way assured. In fact, it was likely she’d have to have another kidney transplant a few years down the line. But she couldn’t bring herself to even think about that yet. Another hurdle to get over when the time came. She was having to learn to be quite the expert in leapfrog…
‘I took a risk coming here to Paris,’ Keeley found herself replying before she really realised it.
Ethan took his fingers away from the elephant-bird and waggled them in the air. ‘Ooo so scary coming to France. Did you fly?’ He laughed again.
‘We took the train.’
‘We?’
‘I’m here with a friend.’ The friend who was currently at a performance of the ballet where she should be. She hadn’t thought through what she was going to say to Silvie Durand about that yet. Would she lie and say she hadn’t felt well? Or would she tell the truth about feeling overwhelmed? It felt wrong to think about not being honest.
‘Is he organised and capable like you?’ Ethan asked.
Keeley smiled as the ride continued to slowly rotate. There were parents watching children from the nearby benches, smiles and waves for their tots, looks of bewilderment every time she and Ethan moved past them. ‘It’s a she… Rach.’
‘And where is Rach tonight?’
‘She’s at the ballet.’
‘Alone?’ Ethan asked. ‘She did not invite you?’ He paused, looking at her as if he was trying to figure her out. She felt his grey-eyed gaze seeping under her skin somehow. ‘Or do you not enjoy the ballet?’
What should she say? Remembering her promises to both Rach and Erica she took a breath. She wasn’t going to be Kidney Girl. She was going to be all in. He didn’t need to know anything about the past year if she didn’t want him to. She could be her here in this moment with this formerly penguin-toting stranger.
‘She met someone. A guy,’ Keeley answered. ‘On the Metro. He’s taken her.’ It was only a partial untruth. Anything else would be tip-toeing close to a region where more explanation would be required.
Ethan looked immediately outraged. ‘She met a stranger underground and she let him take her out? This friend, she is not British. She is not even French. Is she crazy?’
‘She’s fine,’ Keeley insisted. ‘She texted me from the theatre.’
‘I understand that sometimes visiting another country makes you