Secrets (5 page)

Almost as he
spoke,
Madame
Lalonde and Lucien entered through the door,
laden with groceries, which Bryan hastened to retrieve from
Madame
Lalonde. With a smile, she led them into the kitchen
to put groceries away, as Lucien began to brew some coffee. Despite
the fact that she was still stuffed from lunch, Sonya sipped on a
coffee and sat at the table with the others. Plans were made to do
some sightseeing the following day.

Montmartre
was agreed upon, and by the time that Bryan and
Lucien had finished extolling its wonders, the door slammed and
Sylvain rushed in, obviously having run all the way home from
school. He sat at the table with them, explaining about his day,
munching on some pastry that his grandmother placed in front of
him.

Dinner was
another wonderful, noisy and enjoyable meal. Lucien and Sylvain
departed immediately afterwards, while
Madame
Lalonde did
the dishes with unaccustomed effort.

“Where did they
go?” Sonya asked curiously.

“Lucien insists
that they must have some men time,”
Madame
Lalonde replied.
“In my time, boys did school work and men stayed home with the
wives,” she declared somewhat sulkily.

“But, since
they don’t get to spend much time together, isn’t it nice that
Lucien takes the time to spend with his son?” Sonya remarked rather
guilelessly.

“That is true,”
Madame
Lalonde responded. “However, Lucien must not keep
Sylvain out late – tonight is a school night!”

Arching his
eyebrows at Sonya, Bryan stood from the table. “
Bonsoir,
Madame
Lalonde, it has been a long day. We will go to our room
now.”

“
Bonsoir
,” Madame Lalonde replied, deep in her own
thoughts.

Once their
bedroom door was closed, they readied for bed. “So,” Sonya
remarked. “You seem to know Lucien very well. Spill it, Bryan, I
know you and he are friends. That just doesn’t happen on a brief
holiday home.”

Bryan hesitated
for a few seconds. “This isn’t public knowledge, Sonya, but I met
Lucien while I was painting for Grégoire. He’s the agent that
brokered the commission to someone in the Middle East. Lucien is
the reason that
Madame
Lalonde allowed me to board here. His
only request was that our liaison remained between us. I saw no
reason to disagree. It was a win/win situation for me.”

His explanation
satisfied Sonya and they climbed into bed and as the mood struck,
made love in the antique room, in the
bijou
two-story house
in the midst of a quaint neighbourhood in the middle of Paris, the
City of Love.

Morning dawned
gloriously sunny, and the decision was made to go to
Montmartre.
Brian had the bus schedule, so they set out
early and took the bus through a part of Paris that Sonya had not
yet seen. Climbing down from the bus, Bryan led her across a busy
road and then up a steep little street, lined with small
stores.

They finally
reached the top of the street where the hill levelled out somewhat.
A big, beautiful church loomed on the top of the hill, but what
caught Sonya’s attention was a sort of large gondola, set on tracks
but with aerial pulleys. Bryan called it a funicular.

Paying their
fee, they climbed onto the strange little elevator, as Sonya
thought of it, and then climbed the hill on an angle, stepping out
at the top to a spectacular view of Paris. The church was immense,
with stairs its width climbing from their level to its
entrance.

Surrounding the
church was a small village, with storefronts lining the narrow
streets, and what appeared to be living quarters above the stores.
Bryan led her to the left of the funicular landing and into a
village square. In the square, artists were everywhere, their art
displayed around them, as they showcased their talent by painting
while tourists watched.

“This is one of
my favourite
café’s
,” Bryan announced, leading her into a
small restaurant. He ordered without the menu and while they sipped
on wine, sat back and took in their unrestricted view of the
plaza.

“Well,” he
asked. “What do you think?”

“I think I
could live here!” Sonya smiled. “If I could bring the rest of my
life too,” she added. “It’s just wonderful!

“Even on a
rainy day,” Bryan added dreamily, “it is one of my favourite
places.”

Their lunch
arrived, and conversation ended for a while. “Oh, look, isn’t that
the woman from the other night at
Le Cavern
? What was her
name, Mimi, I think,” Sonya stated as she sipped on her coffee.

Bryan looked up
and waved, beckoning her to join them. “
Bonjour
, Mimi!” he
greeted. “You are a long way from the University.”

Mimi looked
fabulous as far as Sonya was concerned, the epitome of what she
would have thought as Paris chic. From the shining cap of dark
hair, big sunglasses, leather jacket and skinny jeans down to the
frilly blouse, messenger bag slung across her chest and her high
heeled boots, she screamed
haute couture
.

As she sat,
Mimi smiled broadly. “I live here,” she declared. “My apartment is
several blocks away. I go to the city now.”

“We must get
back too. May we walk with you to the funicular?” Bryan asked as he
took the bill to pay.

“
Certainement
,” was the reply.
“Allons-y!”

The trio
leisurely walked back through the village towards the funicular,
and were shortly afterwards striding down the hill towards the main
road. Bryan and Sonya hurried to catch their bus, while Mimi after
watching them board the bus, signalled and a car pulled up to the
curb. She slid into the front seat and the driver eased into
traffic again.

“Well?” The
question came from the back of the sedan.

“There are two,
one is Grégoire’s. The other, I do not know. They are unaware of
the shadow. There will be a problem, yes?”

By now, the car
had come to a stop beside the curb, and she was being assisted out
by a tall sandy-haired man. “We hope not,” he replied. “I shall see
you later,” he murmured quietly into her ear.

And as Mimi
walked away, she flashed a brilliant smile over her shoulder. “Do
not be late!” was all she said, as she disappeared into the
crowd.

“It was a
stroke of genius to add Mimi to this operation, Steven. She is
perfect. Congratulations on a brilliant idea!”

“Thank you,
Sir,” was the reply.

“And for what I
am? Chop liver?” the voice of the driver joined in. “Without my
permission you do not have the beautiful Mimi to help! You need the
influence of her brother, even with the persuade of her man!”

“You are
absolutely correct, Maurice,” the voice from the back of the sedan
stated. “And the Wizard graciously thanks you.”

There was much
joviality in the Lalonde household that night. Lucien and Sylvain
had coerced Bryan to assist them to prepare dinner.
Madame
Lalonde and Sonya sat at the table sipping their wine, giggling and
making suggestions. Dinner was edible, and the ladies left the men
to clean up the mess that they had made, including warnings to wash
the floor.

“That was kind
of fun, wasn’t it?” Sonya asked that night as they prepared for
bed. “I don’t think that any of you will make blue ribbon chef
status,” she teased.

“Nor do I want
to,” was Bryan’s retort. “It’s harder than it looks, especially
when
Madame
Lalonde does it. Will you cook like her, oh
wife?”

“Not bloody
likely,” she replied with a toothy grin. “You’ve heard the stories
about how my mom didn’t cook at all. And, I work full-time,
remember?”

“Oh yeah,” he
grinned back. “This trip is turning out pretty good, isn’t it?” he
yawned, turning off the bedside lamp and reaching for his wife.

“It sure is,”
she agreed snuggling in. “I can’t wait to see what tomorrow
brings.”

There was no
school the next morning, and Sylvain took advantage of sleeping in,
something his grandmother never allowed on school days. After
coffee, Sonya went upstairs to check her email, just as Sylvain
arrived for breakfast. Shortly afterwards, she came back into the
kitchen.

“Where are the
men?” she asked. “I wanted to show Bryan a really funny slideshow
my cousin sent.”

“They went for
walk,”
Madame
Lalonde replied with a smile. You know men
like to talk. They think that what they say is most important!” she
smirked, some private thought obviously entering into her mind.

“I can see this
email?” Sylvain begged, “Please?”

“Sure,” Sonya
responded, “Come upstairs to our room, the computer’s still on.”
Sylvan quickly followed Sonya to their room to view the email.
After it was viewed, Sonya shared a funny picture joke, which sent
Sylvain into gales of giggles.

They were still
chuckling, when voices were heard on the road below. Sylvain
recognized his father’s laugh and ran to the open window to wave.
Sonya stood beside him, appreciating the youngster’s desire to
spend as much time as he could with his father.

Lucien and
Bryan looked up at the window and with a smile and a wave, began to
walk into the house. It was then that a car drove down the street,
screeched to a halt, and two really big men forced both Lucien and
Bryan into the car. It sped away, leaving Sonya and Sylvain looking
down at an empty street.

Both rushed
down to the front door and threw it open, frantically looking for
any trace of the car that they both had seen.

“What is the
trouble?”
Madame
Lalonde inquired from the doorway. “Why are
you on the street?”

“
Granmama,
men take Papa and Bryan!
Ils ne sont pas ici!
(They are not here!)
” The youngster was almost hysterical.

“What has
happen?” she demanded of Sonya, who was standing beside Sylvain, on
the verge of tears herself.

“We were
looking out of the window, because we heard Lucien and Bryan
talking. They waved and were coming into the house, when a car came
screeching to a stop, two really big men forced both Lucien and
Bryan into the car and then it left! I couldn’t see the license
number because we were above them. The car was black, wasn’t it
Sylvain?”

The youngster
nodded his head in agreement. “Why men take my Papa away?” he asked
in barely a whisper, his eyes brimming with tears and his face
glazed in shock.

“We must call
the police!” Sonya exclaimed. “They have to look for Bryan and
Lucien!”

Madame
Lalonde glanced at her sceptically. “You are not a French citizen,”
she began. “You cannot just call the police and expect them to
accommodate you.”

Sonya was
stunned. “What do you mean?” she demanded. “Your son was just
kidnapped! What else would you choose to do?”

Madame Lalonde
studied Sonya for what seemed to be hours, which in probability
would have been a few seconds, and then took a deep breath. “There
are many things to explain – perhaps it was his company require him
to return.”

“So, Bryan
would be included in this? What kind of company would kidnap him?”
Sonya countered with vengeance, her eyes beginning to glow with
anger, her body stiffening with antagonism.

“You do have
point,”
Madame
Lalonde replied after what appeared to be
careful consideration. “My thought, to wait until tomorrow, to see
if we hear from them.”

“They were
taken against their will and forced into a car! What makes you
think that they will contact us, when they were taken away against
their will?” Sonya replied, trying hard not to snap at
Madame
Lalonde, not understanding why she wasn’t as upset as
she and Sylvain.

“Paris is very
different from your Calgary,”
Madame
Lalonde replied.
“Things happen different here.”

“Does that mean
that kidnapping is allowed?” Sonya retorted, becoming more and more
visibly upset.

“
Non,
non,
Chérie
, it is just that you may not have all of the
facts, and sometime, things are not as they appear. Of course, we
call the police if you wish.”

“I wish!”
declared Sonya, with a defiant glint in her eye, her back ramrod
straight with irritation.

“Then
,
Chérie
, that is what we do!”
Madame
Lalonde declared,
leading them into the house to collect her purse. Once the house
was locked, she led the way to the
arrondissement
of the
Police Department, where she calmly explained her situation to the
young
gendarme
at the desk.

They waited in
some chairs until summoned. Sonya’s French was not up to the rapid
fire discussion between Madame Lalonde, the policeman and young
Sylvain.

When it
appeared that it was her turn to speak, the policeman asked
questions which Sylvain translated and then translated her answers
back to the policeman in turn.

Immediately,
Sonya realized that she was being viewed as a Barbie doll. Her
looks had never ever, as far as she knew, been interpreted that she
lacked intelligence. But today, her radar reasoned that it appeared
as though this was the case. And it pissed her off.

She recalled
everything that she had seen from the window, but Sonya felt that
the police had dismissed Sylvain as a young kid with an overactive
imagination, reading their body language as they listened to him.
It appeared that by the time that the interview was over, they
believed that both Sonya and Sylvain had exaggerated what they had
seen. Sonya’s gut feeling was that they saw two young people with
an unlikely story and didn’t give them any credence. Promising to
look into their story, their little group was dismissed and left
the
arrondissement
. Sonya very much doubted that anything
would come of this report.