From Paris With Love (11 page)

September 1980

Jean-Luc had already left for work by the time Etienne and Isabelle arrived back at the apartment.  Odile smiled at them as they came in.

“Alors, so you have finally come home!” she pretended to scold them.  “You have stayed out all night?”  She grinned at them both affectionately. 

Christina winked at Isabelle as she came in, blushing.  "So Issy, what will Mum and Dad say about this?  Staying out all night?  They would be shocked!”

Isabelle’s blush deepened further and she stared at Christina aghast, “You can’t tell them!  Please!” 

Christina was having fun now.  “I may or I may not.  That depends!”

“On what?” asked Isabelle

“On what you’re going to do for me!”

“And what might that be?”

“I don’t know yet.  But I know I’ll think of something!”

“So I’ve just got to wait and hope you don’t say anything until you think of something I can do for you!”

“Mmmm, something like that.”  Christina decided to make her sister suffer a little longer.  She had no intention at all of telling her parents, she just wasn’t going to let Issy know that yet!

“So, girls, what are we going to do for your last day?” asked Odile.

Etienne explained about the picnic and Les Jablines.  Both Odile and Christina thought it was an excellent idea.  Christina offered to go down to the bakers to get some bread, but Etienne was quick to say, “No, Isabelle and I will go and fetch some things.  It will be my treat.  You can get anything else ready, Christina.  We will need rugs to sit on and some drinks.”

Isabelle was delighted to escape from Christina’s mischievous looks and to be alone again with Etienne, if only for a few moments.  Once they had closed the door of the apartment, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her before they headed down to the boulangerie.

Armed with a couple of fresh baguettes and a box of delicious-looking pastries, they headed across to the
é
picerie where Etienne picked out some Brie, some salami sausage and a jar of olives.  Finally they stopped to buy some cherries from the fruit shop before heading back to the apartment. 

They put everything in the basket that Odile had got out.  And the four set off in Etienne’s car.  It was only a short distance and they chatted away on the journey.  How well they all got on together, thought Isabelle.  They had only known each other a week and yet she felt they would be friends for life.  She remembered back to the previous Friday and her hesitation about staying with people she hardly knew.  It had all worked out so well!  So much better than she had ever thought it would.  And of course, she had met Etienne – that had made it all perfect!  Her mind wandered back over the amazing experiences they had enjoyed together over the past week and how special the memories would be. So many things to think about and special moments to treasure.

“Come, Isabelle, you are day-dreaming!” Etienne’s voice brought her back to the present.  She shook her head to bring herself back and taking his out-stretched hand, she climbed out of the car.

Together the little group of four wandered along the path through the wood and then trudged through the thick grass to the edge of the lake.  Etienne spread their rugs out on the bank and flung himself down on one, tugging Isabelle down with him.  Odile set the basket down on the other and sat down there, with Christina beside her.  The weak September sun was surprisingly warm on their skin as they lay on their backs, their eyes closed, their faces stretched out towards the sun.  Etienne’s hand held Isabelle’s firmly and his fingers caressed her palm, sending little tremors up her arm.

After a while, Christina spoke, “I’m hungry.  Can we have lunch now?”

Odile sat up and reaching into the wicker basket, she took out a bottle, uncorked it and poured the cider into four cups, setting them carefully in the grass so they would not spill.

“Come on lazybones,” said Christina, reaching across and tickling Isabelle’s ribs causing her to yelp and sit up quickly.  “It’s lunchtime and I’m hungry.  Now leave Etienne alone for a few minutes and eat with us!”

Isabelle and Etienne laughed at her mock indignation.  Reaching across, he took out the baguette and a knife, cutting off large chunks and handing it to the three girls.

“That’s not very neat, Etienne,” scolded Odile, teasing him. 

He shrugged in his Gallic way.  “It will still taste as good!”

He brought out the sausage and Brie.  With the sausage he sliced off pieces and placed them on the greaseproof paper for everyone to help themselves.  He did the same with the cheese.

“What is this?” asked Christina, picking up a piece of sausage and eyeing it suspiciously.

“It is salami, a sort of sausage.  A little spicy and very tasty,” replied Etienne.  “Try it, you’ll like it.”

Christina nibbled a little and grinned.  “It’s delicious!” she exclaimed and put the rest in her mouth.

Once the bread, sausage and Brie had been polished off, Etienne opened the box of pastries offering one to each – again they were all different, although all equally delicious.

“I’m full,” replied Isabelle as she finished off her religieuse pastry and wiped the cream from her lips.  “That was delicious!”

“Oh, but we haven’t finished yet,” said Etienne and took out the punnet of cherries.  “We will have a competition – who can spit the further cherry stone!”

Christina and Isabelle looked at each other in delight – how their parents would disapprove!  This sounded so much fun!

They each took a cherry, ate the soft sweet flesh and taking aim they spat the cherry stones out.  Odile’s was the furthest.

Determinedly they all reached into the punnet again, each one wanting to get the furthest cherry stone and win.  And so they continued until finally the cherries had all been finished and Odile had been declared the winner and Isabelle the loser as her stones hadn’t gone very far at all.

“Too ladylike!” teased Christina.  And Isabelle nodded in agreement.

With the picnic hamper empty except for wrappings and dirty cups, they folded the rugs and headed back to the car.

“Tonight we have a special dinner,” said Odile.  “As it is your last evening.”

Isabelle felt her heart lurch and a lump form in her throat.  Etienne’s hand tightened in hers, he understood how she was feeling.

“And so, are you staying with us tonight?” asked Christina, cheekily.  “Are you going to honour us with your company this evening?  Or are you going to be out again?”

Isabelle blushed as Odile replied, “Tomorrow we have an early start so it is best Isabelle stay with us.  Of course, Etienne will stay too, n’est-ce pas?” and she winked at them both.  “You will have to sleep on the sofa though!”

Christina whispered to her sister, “It’s okay, Issy, you and Etienne can have the bed and I’ll sleep on the sofa, if you like.”

Isabelle grinned at her and realised that her sister would never say anything to her parents, despite her teasing and mock threats.  She could see that she was genuinely pleased for her.  She felt a little thrill inside that she would have another night with Etienne when she had thought she would be saying goodbye to him after dinner.  A few more hours and she would stretch them out as long as she possibly could.

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September 1980

Jean-Luc breezed in through the front door like a gust of wind bringing a sense of energy with him.  He whistled as he saw Isabelle and Christina who had both put on pretty dresses for their last evening.  Isabelle was wearing her favourite cream dress that she thought made her look tanned and slimmer.  Christina was wearing a dark blue dress that formed the perfect contrast to her blond curls.  Odile, too, had dressed up and was wearing a bright red skirt and matching blouse.  Etienne was wearing a shirt, but still wore cords.  He obviously didn’t believe much in smart dress!

“So we must have apéritifs!” exclaimed Jean-Luc reaching for five glasses and the bottles of Pastis and Martini.  He poured out two glasses of the aniseed Pastis and three glasses of the red Martini, handing one each to Odile, Isabelle and Christina, who were fast developing a taste for apéritifs and red wine!

“To Isabelle and Christina! May they come back soon!” toasted Jean-Luc and they all clinked their glasses.  Etienne’s eyes caught and held Isabelle’s, confirming the toast.

“To Jean-Luc and Odile, the perfect hosts!” toasted Christina entering into the spirit of the evening.  “And of course, Etienne,” she added not wanting to leave him out.  He grinned at her as he clinked his glass with hers.

They sat down to the table as Odile fetched in the dinner and they chatted all evening.

“Just think how much better your French is now!” said Jean-Luc.  “Now I do not have to speak in English!”

“It is much better,” agreed Christina.  “I never thought I’d be able to understand what people were saying, much less have a conversation.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Isabelle cheekily.  “I think you and Odile have just developed your own Franglais language actually!”

Everyone laughed and Jean-Luc reached for the wine to pour them all another glass.

“Tomorrow we will leave at 8.30 in the morning,” said Jean-Luc.  “Your train is at 10 o’clock, n’est-ce pas?”

Isabelle felt the now-familiar lump return to her throat and her heart lurch again at the reminder that they would be leaving tomorrow.

“Yes, 10 o’clock from Gare St Lazare,” she said softly and quite sadly.

“I think you will be sad to leave, no?” asked Jean-Luc.

“Yes, very sad,” agreed Isabelle.

“Me too,” said Christina.  “We have had such a wonderful time with you.”

The dinner finished, the girls jumped up to clear the plates.  As they took them out to the kitchen, Christina put her hand on Isabelle’s arm. “Issy, I’ll do these.  You spend the last evening with Etienne.”

“Are you sure?” asked Isabelle.

“Absolutely.  You can make it up to me when we get home!  Now, go!” and she pushed her sister out of the kitchen and turned to the sink to begin washing up.

Etienne rose from the table as Isabelle went back in, he took her hand and led her out to the balcony.

Here is where it had really all begun, thought Isabelle fondly.  Their very first evening when Etienne had brought her out.  As then, just a short week ago, Paris wore her evening gown, a robe of twinkling lights like thousands of sequins in the distance lighting up the sky.  She felt Etienne’s arm around her and she leaned against his chest, her arm around his waist.  Together they stood silently, looking out across Paris, each with their own thoughts.

In the distance Isabelle could just make out the Eiffel Tower and she thought she could see the Sacré Coeur too.  She wanted to capture it in her mind, like a photograph, to remember always. 

Etienne leaned down and kissed her.  “I will miss you, Isabelle.  Je t’aime,” he added simply.

Isabelle felt her heart contract at his words.  “Je t’aime aussi” she whispered back.

“And I will show you – I am not a Frenchman who forgets.  This Frenchman will remember you always.  And I hope it will not be too long before we see each other again.”

“I hope so too,” Isabelle didn’t want this evening to ever end.  “Will you write to me?” she asked shyly.

“Of course.  You will give me your address and I will write.  I hope you will write to me too?”

“Oh yes, I love writing letters,” she agreed.  “And I will love to get letters from you too.”

They stood for a while longer in the chilly Paris evening until a tap on the window drew them back in.

“We are going to bed now,” said Odile.  “Here are sheets, pillows and a blanket.  You can make up the sofa, Etienne, you know how it pulls out?”

He nodded.  “Thank you, Odile.” 

Isabelle slipped out to change into her nightie and to say goodnight to Christina.  Their case lay there already packed and she realised she had her sister to thank for that.  It had completely slipped her mind!

Etienne had pulled out the sofa and together they made up the bed, climbing in and settling into each other’s arms.  They left the curtains undrawn so they could gaze out at the Paris night until finally sleep claimed them both.

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September 1980

The morning dawned too quickly for Isabelle.  The light streamed through the windows and she could hear the sounds of Odile and Jean-Luc up and about.  She felt Etienne’s arms around her and she leaned into them, relishing the feel and smell of him, trying to keep it in her mind and in her memory.  She didn’t want to forget a single thing about him.  For a few moments, she lay there quietly.  She knew he was awake too and they clung to each other.  Finally he stirred and sighing she got up from the bed. 

Wordlessly they folded the sheets and blanket, working together.  They stacked the bedding with the pillows and Etienne pushed the sofa back together.  The lounge looked as it always had done.

Isabelle went through to the room she had shared with Christina and got dressed quickly.  Christina looked across at her and smiled sympathetically.  She didn’t say anything, she realised how Isabelle was feeling and she knew there was nothing to say that would make her feel any better.

They pushed the last few items into the case and closed it.  It felt like closing the lid on their wonderful holiday and their Paris experience, thought Isabelle.  Each final act, each moment was bringing them closer to the time when she would have to say goodbye to Etienne and she was dreading it.

They hauled the case out to the hall and stood it by the door with their own bags.  The smell of hot chocolate and toasting bread drew them into the kitchen where Jean-Luc, Odile and Etienne stood quietly chatting.

“So you are ready for breakfast?” asked Jean-Luc his voice cheerful.  “Here you are, girls.”  And he handed them each a bowl of hot chocolate.

Etienne put more baguette into the toaster and the girls began to tuck in.  Isabelle felt that each mouthful was an effort, the lump in her throat felt huge and swallowing was difficult. 

“We leave in five minutes,” announced Jean-Luc as they finished off their breakfast and quickly washed the dishes.

Isabelle wandered through to the lounge.  She wanted one last look at Paris from the balcony before they left.  She felt Etienne’s arms slip around her as she stood at the window and she leaned against him.

“Come, Isabelle, it is time we leave,” he whispered, kissing her tenderly.

They sat together in the back of the car on the way into Paris, just as they had the previous Sunday.  Only six short days ago, but how much had happened in that time!  Isabelle felt she had changed so much. She had left England as a young girl who had never fallen in love, and was returning as a young woman so much in love.  Her dreams had become reality – Paris really was the city of love.

His arms around her, Etienne held Isabelle close whispering to her and kissing her, making the most of the last hour.

Jean-Luc wove the car skilfully through the heavy Parisian traffic and Isabelle wished he would drive slower – anything to make the journey last longer, to delay the inevitable parting for just a little while more.

Too soon, they pulled up in front of the imposing stone façade of the Gare St Lazare.  Jean-Luc found a parking space quite quickly, too quickly thought Isabelle who wouldn’t have minded missing the train!

As they got out of the car, Etienne whispered to her again, “Je t’aime, Isabelle, never forget that” and in English, he confirmed “I love you.”

Isabelle couldn’t help crying now, tears streaming down her face.  “I love you too, Etienne,” she whispered back.  “And I don’t want to leave you.”

“I know.  I do not want you to leave either.  But I will write and one day we will see each other again.  Maybe not too long.”

She nodded through her tears and arms tightly around each other they followed Jean-Luc, Odile and Christina into the station.  Jean-Luc carried the case for them.  Quickly they found the right platform, validated their tickets and found the train was there already. 

Jean-Luc found them two seats together and heaved the case into the luggage rack above them.

“We have five minutes,” said Jean-Luc looking at his watch.  “Just time to say goodbye.”

Christina hugged him.  “Goodbye Jean-Luc.  Thank you so much for everything.  It has been amazing!”  She turned to Odile and hugged her tightly too.  “Thank you, Odile.  I will write to you and I hope you will understand my French!”

Isabelle hugged Jean-Luc too and Odile, thanking them both for a wonderful time and for everything they had done.  She found it difficult to speak through her tears.

“Do not worry,” whispered Jean-Luc.  “Etienne will not forget you.  He told me what you think of Frenchmen and I promise you he is not like that at all.  He loves you.  Besides he will have me to answer to if he does forget too quickly!”

Isabelle laughed through her tears and hugged him again.  “Merci, Jean-Luc, for everything.”

Then she turned to Etienne, hugged him tightly and whispered, “Please don’t forget me.  I love you”.  He kissed her, whispered a final “Je t’aime”.

They left the train just as the doors were being slammed shut along the platform.  Isabelle sank into her seat next to her sister, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stared out of the window at her new friends and her first love. 

Both girls waved as the train pulled out and continued waving until they could no longer see the platform.  They were on their way home and Isabelle knew that, for her, this week in Paris had been more than a wonderful holiday.  It had been a dream come true.  An experience of a lifetime.  She had fallen in love for the first time and she knew she would never forget the way she was feeling nor would she ever forget Etienne.  For her, life would never be quite the same again.

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