A Perfect Paris Christmas - Mandy Baggot Page 0,72

she mean? Did she have some kind of connection to Ethan?

‘You have had a shock,’ Ethan told her. ‘Bo-Bo being hit by a car.’

The mention of her beloved animal’s name seemed to pull Jeanne back into a funk and she forked mushrooms between her lips, one of them falling out and dripping down her chin before landing on her plate. Keeley suspected Jeanne was going to clam up again. She watched as Ethan finally took a gulp of his coffee.

‘Where did you learn? You know, what you did,’ he suddenly asked Keeley as more café patrons headed in through the front door, a chill blast of the outside weather following them.

‘What I did?’

‘With the dog,’ he elaborated.

‘He has a name!’ Jeanne interrupted gruffly.

‘With… Bo-Bo,’ Ethan added.

Keeley drew in a breath, gathering her coffee cup in towards her chest and thinking about Erica. ‘Well, it’s because I used to volunteer at my local hospital and now I help out at the hospice.’

‘Wow,’ Ethan breathed and then he seemed to reconsider her words. ‘Really?’

‘Yes,’ Keeley answered. ‘I mean, it’s not much. In my spare time I spend a few hours every week visiting the patients who don’t have family. I read to them sometimes, or I just sit with the very poorly ones and I tell them things that are going on in the world… like, I don’t know, the Spice Girls making another comeback or… what Harry Redknapp is currently endorsing.’

‘That is Prince Harry’s new surname? The red nap?’ Ethan asked, looking super-confused. ‘I do not understand.’

Keeley couldn’t help but smile. ‘No… he’s… someone else. It doesn’t matter.’ She wet her lips. ‘What I do at the hospice is… I try to make the patients’ lives a little bit lighter. I never think that being there is only about dying. I think it should still be about living. I help patients to… get the most out of those last moments.’ She smiled. ‘At least that’s what I try to do.’

‘Why do you do that?’ Ethan asked, his eyes meeting hers. ‘If that is not too much to ask. I would like to understand.’

Jeanne dropped her knife and fork to her plate, sweeping up her glass of orange juice and gulping at it as if she hadn’t had a drink in a couple of days. She let out a satisfied gasp then looked at Keeley with a pertinent expression. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Why do you do that?’

Both of them were scrutinising her now, waiting for some divine answer she wasn’t sure she wanted to give. But it was obvious from the silence and their expressions that they weren’t going to let this go.

‘I decided to volunteer at the hospital… after my sister died.’

*

Ethan inhaled and he knew he had failed to stop it being audible even above the hubbub of the café. He pushed his tongue into his teeth and kept his expression as neutral as he could. She had lost someone close to her, just like he had…

‘Was she very old? Or sick?’ Jeanne burst out.

‘Neither,’ Keeley said evenly. ‘She had an accident. The paramedics, they did everything they could that night but… she couldn’t be saved. And I… didn’t get to say the goodbye I wanted to.’ Her voice wasn’t so even now and Ethan looked to her fingers, clasping hold of the table, nails digging into the wood grain.

She started to talk again. ‘I guess I wanted to give something back in memory of my sister and make a small difference. Help those who have the chance to recover and now… I help others through their final battle.’ She paused. ‘Everyone deserves someone holding their hand when they die.’

Her words hit home hard as she turned her face towards him, their eyes connecting. She was the most special, selfless person and he found himself only wanting to find out even more about her.

The moment was broken by the ringing of a mobile phone. It wasn’t his and Jeanne had turned her attention back to eating.

Ethan took another sip of his coffee and watched Keeley stand up and answer.

‘Hello, Rach… sorry… no, I’m fine. Honestly. No, I didn’t get your messages I was… helping someone and… I forgot the time. Yes, I’ll be back for breakfast I promise. OK. Bye.’

Keeley ended the call then retook her seat. ‘Sorry, that was my friend. She’d apparently sent me five texts and was considering calling the gendarmerie.’

She smiled but Jeanne didn’t react so well. At the mention of the police the girl had