A Perfect Paris Christmas - Mandy Baggot Page 0,99

hotels. At the weekends. Until you are allowed to be officially employed, you will be my second assistant. That will involve anything I ask you to do.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like… making coffee or organising the new ornamental features we are looking at today.’ He relaxed into the seat a little further. ‘What do you think to these chairs?’

‘I think,’ Jeanne said, sitting further back in hers, her feet coming off the floor completely, ‘they have lived a life already.’

‘Yes,’ Ethan answered, a smile on his face. ‘Exactly that.’

Forty-Four

‘Squirrels’ teeth never stop growing. Did you know that, Keeley?’

‘No, Dad, I didn’t know that. So, is Mum really OK?’

Keeley watched Rach, a stall to her left, ferreting through a selection of garments laid out jumble-sale style. Rach was far more high-street fashion than she was vintage. Perhaps she was looking for a gift.

‘You spoke to her, love,’ Duncan reminded.

‘I spoke to her for two minutes before she palmed me off with talk about baking for the knitting group.’

‘It’s the crochet group tonight,’ Duncan said. ‘Knitting’s on Friday week and cooking for the choir’s this Saturday. A Christmas bazaar with songs by Cole Porter.’

‘She shouldn’t have even been at Mr Peterson’s place,’ Keeley said, frustrated. ‘She shouldn’t be standing in for me like that.’

‘She wanted to help and she wanted you to be able to go to Paris.’

Keeley closed her eyes and let out a sigh. Despite all her early protests and desperate reservations, it seemed Lizzie had done everything in her power to ensure this trip had gone ahead. Stepping into the breach to help Roland at the estate agency so no one was inconvenienced by the late notice for the trip, ensuring she had a job to go back to. Albeit a job she desperately wanted to move onwards and upwards from. One step at a time…

‘So, how’s it going there?’ Duncan cleared his throat then whispered. ‘Managed to eat some cheese?’

Keeley smiled at her dad’s air of naughty schoolboy. ‘I’ve had a little bit.’

‘Good girl. A little bit never did anyone any harm.’ He paused. ‘But don’t tell your mother I said that.’ He seemed to wait a beat before continuing. ‘And… Silvie, she’s alright, is she?’

‘Silvie’s very nice,’ Keeley answered. ‘She’s a little older than you and mum, smartly dressed, she speaks excellent English which is good because I don’t speak much French. She met Rach and me at this lovely café near the Louvre and we’re going to her house tonight for dinner.’

‘And did you talk?’ Duncan asked. ‘You know… about her daughter?’

‘Yes,’ Keeley said. ‘Silvie showed me a photograph and told me about the kind of person Ferne was. She was beautiful, Dad, and she sounded like someone I… might have liked to have been friends with.’ She hadn’t thought about that until the sentence had passed her lips. It was true though. From what she had already heard about her donor, Ferne was kind and fierce and very much loved. Who wouldn’t want to have someone like that as a friend? ‘And… I told Silvie about Bea. She didn’t know, you know, that Bea had… passed away.’ She still found it so hard to say the word ‘died’. In her mind, Bea was still out there somewhere, perhaps building bridges out of clouds…

‘I suppose she wouldn’t,’ Duncan answered, his voice catching a little. ‘So, it’s all alright then. You’re not unsettled by anything or… worried about anything.’

‘Dad,’ Keeley said, watching Rach unearth what looked like something Gucci from the pile of clothing. ‘Mum’s standing right with you now, isn’t she?’

Duncan let out a sigh and Keeley heard a whispered, ‘I told you she would know,’ before a sound seemed to indicate something on the call had changed.

‘I’ve put you on speakerphone,’ Duncan answered.

‘Mum—’

‘Don’t be cross with me, Keeley. I can sense you’re going to be cross with me,’ Lizzie started.

‘I’m cross that squirrels attacked you when you were somewhere you shouldn’t have been.’

‘I’m cross that someone keeps three squirrels untethered in an airing cupboard, ready to attack any unsuspecting individual who happens to consider tidying the towels. Buyers look in cupboards. We looked in cupboards before we bought this house, didn’t we, Duncan?’

‘We did,’ Keeley’s dad concurred.

‘You do know Mr Peterson is a taxidermist,’ Keeley remarked.

‘Of course I know that! What I didn’t realise was he kept live animals in unusual places.’

‘The man does have a certain reputation for things like that.’

‘They were supposed to be dead,’ Lizzie continued. ‘“Drying” was actually the word he used. Who leaves