by Rebecca Pugh
‘Oh, get you! You lucky thing. Enjoy yourself, and yes, Tuesday is fabulous. It’s brilliant news, Jess. Honestly, you’ll be chuffed to bits. Speak to you then. Bye for now!’
***
The taxi pulled up outside Heathrow and the driver retrieved the suitcases from the boot. ‘There you are, ladies! Safe trip!’ With that, he climbed back into the taxi and eased back out into the stream of traffic, disappearing into the sea of vehicles within seconds.
Jessica turned to look up at the airport, the sun reflecting off the glass of the building. ‘Shall we?’
‘Yes, we shall!’ said Sarah linked her arm through Jessica’s and led them inside.
They made their way to the check-in desk, went through the motions, and finally, after checking in their luggage, headed to the departure lounge. It wasn’t long before their flight was announced, and so, like they had done so many times before when they’d gone off on their travels, they scurried to their destination, and finally, sat down in their designated seats beside each other on the plane.
‘I feel sick,’ Jessica whispered, as passengers continued to board, brushing past her shoulders as they made their way up the aisle. ‘Which is stupid because I’ve flown a million times before.’ She licked her lips and laid her head back against the seat, eyes closed, breathing deep and evenly.
‘You’re just nervous because of the reason we’re going. Take a few deep breaths, and you’ll be okay. I promise. It’s only a short flight. It’ll be over before you know it.’
Jessica nodded and glanced through the small window. She could see the tarmac outside, could see the men in their fluorescent jackets getting everything ready for departure. The wait for everyone to be seated seemed to last forever, but finally, after a quick word from the captain, the plane was secured and they began to move down the runway.
‘Here we go,’ Sarah giggled as the force of take-off pushed them back into their seats.
***
The plane touched down at Charles De Gaulle airport in Paris just over an hour later. They departed quickly, found their bags with ease which was surprising, and in no time at all, they were hurrying through the busy, noisy airport, desperate to get out into the fresh air. There was noise and people everywhere they turned, and the need to get outside surged through Jessica’s body.
Jessica had booked them into an adorable boutique hotel, located in the Marais district, after admiring the images that had been viewable on the hotel’s website. After hailing a taxi outside the airport, both women oohed and ahead as it took them towards their destination. Jessica couldn’t believe how beautiful the place was. She watched everything go by with sheer awe and childish fascination. The Parisian streets were jam-packed with people, locals and tourists alike, and as the taxi continued on its way, she grew more and more eager to get outside and breathe it all in, to experience it all for herself.
‘Wow. It’s better than I could have imagined,’ Sarah whispered from beside her, eyes fixed on the outside world, sparkling with excitement. ‘I can’t wait for us to go exploring!’
Jessica grinned and continued to watch the people that the taxi passed by. It was like a completely new world. They passed numerous narrow side-streets that seemed to disappear around corners, cafes with bistro tables set up prettily outside, cobbled ground and winding iron railings high up, framing charming balconies, some with washing hanging over the side, drying in the sunshine.
Finally, the driver indicated left and turned into a traffic-laden street, easing itself into a small space between two parked cars. ‘Your destination, mademoiselles,’ he announced over his shoulder.
After squeezing between the parked cars, and taking notice of a collection of motorbikes parked over the opposite side of the road, Jessica glanced up at the hotel they’d be staying in during their time in Paris. ‘It’s cute, isn’t it?’
Sarah arrived beside her. ‘Dead cute, but come on! Let’s go inside. I’m dying for a drink, and I can’t wait to see our rooms.’ Sarah propelled her forward, and they stepped into the hotel.
After a warm welcome from the staff, Jessica and Sarah took the elevator up to their double room and stepped inside, both gasping with delight as they stepped onto the plush red carpet. It was gorgeous. From their own personal balcony, currently sprinkled with sunlight, to the beautifully made up beds against the elegant black and white damask patterned wall. Stylish, floor-length curtains framed the glass doors that let out onto the balcony, printed with the same damask pattern that was noticeable throughout the room. The snow-white pillows were plump and edged with pretty frills, inviting and snug.
‘It’s a room fit for a princess!’ Sarah squealed in delight. She abandoned her case beside an ornate dresser and flung herself at the double bed. An identical bed sat in the opposite room, accessible through a wide doorway, framed with white wood. An en suite bathroom was positioned between the two, everything inside a sparkling white.
Jessica smiled fondly at Sarah rolling about on the mattress, and headed through the doorway into what she guessed was going to be her room. She placed her suitcase beside her own dresser and looked around. ‘It’s gorgeous,’ she commented, folding her arms across her chest. ‘Shame we won’t be spending much time in here, isn’t it?’
She realised that she was talking to herself when she returned to Sarah’s space and saw her best friend standing out on the balcony, shielding her eyes from the sun.
‘This is amazing!’ she yelled at the top of her voice, throwing her arms up into the air like she was about to take off and fly into the sky.
Sarah’s enthusiasm was infectious, and within moments Jessica was beside her, peering down at the busy street below and the surrounding buildings. Even from way up here, the atmosphere was catching.
‘Shall we unpack, then head out for dinner?’ Jessica asked once they were back inside and the balcony doors were firmly shut.
‘Sounds like a plan!’ Sarah enthused. She clapped her hands together, meaning business, then dragged her suitcase up onto her bed. She unzipped it and flipped the lid open, eyeing the belongings inside with glee.
‘Indeed it does.’ Jessica did the same, and began to move her clothes from her case to the open dresser, feeling more than ready for their stay in Paris.
***
Showered and changed by the time early evening rolled around, with the sky outside still light and emanating balmy summer air, they left the hotel which, from the outside, looked far too small to house so many rooms. It seemed to be squished between the rest of the buildings, but studying the exterior, Jessica decided that it only added to the charming feel of the place. In search of food, they strolled arm in arm along the grey paving stones, admiring each and every building that they passed.
‘Oh, what about this place?’ Sarah chirped, tugging Jessica to a stop.
They’d paused outside an establishment with a royal blue awning shading a smattering of bistro tables and chairs from the sun. The awning was printed with swirly, curly, elegant white lettering, proclaiming that it was Le Petit Homard.
‘The Little Lobster?’ Sarah asked with a grin. ‘How adorable! Come on!’ She pulled Jessica along as she stepped between the tables and the already seated diners. They headed into the establishment which, just like their hotel, looked far bigger inside than it appeared to be from the outside. It was noisy within, full of chatter, a babble of French and English tongues mingling as one, and as they picked their way towards the busy bar area, Jessica couldn’t help but gaze around herself at the sheer magic of the place. The atmosphere was impossible to ignore, thick with Parisian dialogue and wafts of perfume and aftershave mingling with the food. Art had been positioned perfectly along the creamy walls, black and white images of Paris displaying its beauty for all to see.
With their drinks in hand, Jessica led the way back outside and scrambled towards an empty table before it was snatched up a group of nearby tourists. ‘Isn’t this place incredible?’ She watched the people walking by, admi
ring their way of life, their lazy pace as they strolled past, laughing and chatting.
‘Just a little bit,’ breathed Sarah. ‘Anyway, what are we eating? I’m starving.’
After perusing the menu, they agreed on the same thing, a dish of caramelised red onion, garlic, goat’s cheese and sweet potato tatin. For dessert, Sarah chose crème brulee, and Jessica, feeling in the mood for something a little richer, chose a dark, velvety chocolate mousse.
‘Well, it’s true what they say,’ Jessica said once they’d finished. She stretched her legs out beneath the table to allow room for her stomach. ‘The French really cook the most delicious food.’
‘Damn straight.’ Sarah shuffled back in her seat too, and smiled across the table. ‘I’m proud of you, you know.’
Jessica glanced down to her lap, fiddling with her fingers. ‘Are you?’
‘Of course I am! This is a big thing that you’re doing, Jess. This is your birth mother. That’s the reason why we’re here, after all. Some people spend their lives searching for their mothers or fathers. You have an address. You have your questions. I’ve got a good feeling about it.’ Sarah reached across the table and held her hand out. Jessica moved her hand to touch Sarah’s. ‘So, yeah. I’m proud of you. You’re brave. Braver than I ever thought.’
With tears glittering her eyes, Jessica smiled at her best friend and realised that what she was saying was true. She was brave. She’d been through a hell of a lot in the last couple of months. What she was about to do was crazy insane. Something she’d never thought she’d have to do in her lifetime. But here she was, in Paris, sat across from her best friend, outside a Parisian bistro, preparing to search out her birth mother. Things didn’t get much braver than that, did they?
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, they enjoyed breakfast in the hotel’s cosy café downstairs, the wide windows giving them a perfect view of the already bustling street outside. The smell of rich, roasting coffee beans filled the air around them, and a light hubbub provided the perfect backdrop to the beginning of their first full day in Paris. Vintage images, printed boldly onto canvas, were placed across the walls, making the café feel stylish as well as homely.
Over croissants and coffee, and seated in comfy, brown leather seats, they enthused about the day ahead. Sarah’s would involve strolling along the Parisian streets, browsing the boutiques and shopping, a real lady of leisure, whereas Jessica’s was going to involve following the address on the postcards that were tucked safely inside her bag, next to the red wristband. It was as if she could physically feel the weight of them hidden away.
‘Are you nervous?’ Sarah asked as she nibbled delicately at the flaky, golden croissant in her fingers. Loose flakes floated down and Sarah brushed them off her lap.
‘A little,’ Jessica decided. The truth was, since arriving in Paris, her nerves had gradually settled, and rather than being frightened of finding her birth mother, she was more frightened of not finding Helen Parker, and flying back to London no better off than she had been on the journey over. ‘I just hope she’s there. At the same address still. I’ll be disappointed if she’s not.’ Her eyes glazed over as she stared through the window. How would she feel if she were to fly back home knowing nothing more than what Esme had told her? The thought of that happening dulled her spirits, so she quickly changed the subject and moved instead towards Sarah’s plans for shopping.
Once they had both finished and thanked the staff for such a delicious beginning to what was bound to be a long day, for Jessica anyway, maybe not so much for Sarah who had a lovely day of shopping to look forward to, they stepped outside into the early morning sunshine. People were already milling along the streets, cameras at the ready for whatever they were off to discover. Sarah popped her sunglasses on and turned to her. ‘Will you be okay?’ she asked, pink glossed lips pursed.
Jessica had decided, during the late hours of the night before to follow the address on her own. Sarah had protested fiercely at first, arguing that it wasn’t safe for her to go off on her own in streets that they didn’t know at all well, but in the end, after assuring Sarah that the address wasn’t far from the hotel, and that if she were to get lost she’d surely find her way back with the help of the people filling the streets, she had managed to persuade her that it was something that she needed to do on her own.
‘I’ll be fine. Right then,’ Jessica said, as they stood beside each other on the street, people stepping around them. ‘I guess I better get going. The early bird catches the worm.’ Esme flitted into her mind as she said the words and a small smile appeared on her mouth. She missed that woman. So damn much.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll buy you something nice.’ Sarah kissed her on the cheek, squeezed her tightly and then took off down the street, disappearing into the throngs of people. Left alone, Jessica swallowed and turned towards the narrow road. The day awaited, full of possibility. A row of taxis were lined up along the kerb, waiting for passengers to step inside and reel off their destination. Hopping into the nearest one, she took a deep breath and told the driver the address as she held one of the postcards in her hands and stared down at it. She ran her fingers over the years-old handwriting, imagining her mother writing the words with whatever black-inked pen she had used. She turned her attention to look through the window. Here went nothing. She’d either find Helen Parker or she wouldn’t. One or the other. She was just a taxi ride away, and it was time find out.
***
The building that Jessica stood nervously outside of less than thirty minutes later took her by surprise but then, everything in this beautiful new place seemed to take her by surprise, and had done since she’d arrived the day before. It was particularly imposing, with symmetrical windows running right the way up the length of it. Jessica peered up as it towered into the blue sky above, unable to stop herself from admiring the black, wrought-iron bars that sat prettily around the balconies higher up. Balconies were a favourite of the French, and she couldn’t deny that they were effortlessly stunning. She returned her attention to the postcard in her hand and made a mental note of the apartment number 3B. She approached the wide glass doors and tugged one open, only to find that it was locked. Feeling stupid, she spotted the black intercom on the wall. With a trembling finger, she pushed in the button beside 3B and gulped when it buzzed noisily, making her jump.
‘Hello?’ asked a woman’s voice, in English but with a definite French lilt to it.
‘Hi. I’m here to see…’ She squeezed her eyes shut, summoning some much-needed courage. Now that she was here, standing outside the building, all of her earlier bravery had vanished completely. ‘I’m here to see Helen Parker?’ She’d meant to sound confident, rather than leaving it sounding like a question.
‘Who is it?’ The woman asked, sounding impatient at being kept away from whatever it was that she had been doing beforehand.
‘Just an old friend. Please, could you tell her it’s important?’ Jessica glanced over her shoulder at the people passing by. She was slowly beginning to lose her nerve. Please let me in she prayed silently.
A loud buzz sounded, and when she attempted to pull the glass doors open for the second time, they opened freely and she was granted access. She hitched her bag a little higher up her shoulder as she stepped inside, impressed with the white marble flooring. She took the elevator to the correct floor and stepped out. She wandered across the thick green carpet which looked to have been recently hoovered, taking in the rich wood panelling that ran along the wide hall. It was beautifully decorated, with ornate pictures hung every so often along the length of it. She continued walking, studying each apartment number displayed clearly on the doors as she passed them.
Finally, she found the correct door, brass figures attached to the wood telling her that she was outside apartment 3B. She stared at the door for a couple of moments in silence, preparing herself for whatever lay on the other side of it. No matter how prepared she thought she had been for this moment,
nothing had prepared her for actually standing right outside. The only thing between herself and whoever was inside was the door. That was it. A piece of wood. Surely, if the lady on the intercom had allowed her inside, then that meant that there was a Helen Parker inside the apartment. Her biological mother. The woman who had given birth to her. She needed to knock before she lost her nerve and went back to the hotel. She raised her knuckles to the wood and knocked three times, wishing immediately that she hadn’t, once the people inside had been alerted to her presence. Get it together, Jessica, she told herself. She hadn’t come this far just to chicken out now. The secrets she’d discovered in Bluebell House had led her to this moment. She’d be stupid to leave when she’d got so far.
Before she’d finished her inner musings, the door of apartment 3B swung open and a short, curvaceous woman with ebony black hair and blood-red lipstick looked back at her. ‘Hello.’ Standing face to face, and hearing her voice without the intercom, Jessica could immediately tell that the woman before her was French, through and through. She was stunning, despite being quite a bit older than Jessica.
‘Hello,’ Jessica stammered. She cleared her throat, determined to sound confident. ‘I’m here to see Helen Parker.’ She straightened her posture, wanting to appear a little taller. She wouldn’t turn away, no matter how frightened she became.
The woman, with narrowed eyes, hadn’t stopped studying Jessica’s face since she’d opened the door. In fact, it was beginning to become uncomfortable. She felt like she was under a microscope. Her cheeks began to burn as the woman’s eyes moved about her face, taking in every single inch of it, it seemed.
‘Indeed,’ the woman said briskly after a few moments of continued inspection. ‘Won’t you come in?’
Jessica smiled politely as she stepped into the apartment. ‘Thank you. I really don’t mean to intrude on your day but I have—’
