French Kissing

by Catherine Sanderson

  It was a relief to be able to recount at length the events of the previous weekend – not a subject I’d felt able to broach with Mum, even if I had showed her how the Rendez-vous site worked – and I found myself lapping up my friends’ rapt attention as I talked, enjoying being the focal point of the conversation. Who would have guessed, a few months earlier, that my love life would ever become eventful enough to hold listeners spellbound? But when I’d finished bringing them up to speed and passed around my phone to show them Matthias’s text messages from two days earlier, Anna and Ryan’s reactions took me by surprise. I’d been expecting words of sympathy and encouragement, not frowns of disapproval.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re telling us you’re still infatuated with this Jérémy, the flaky guy who’s been blowing hot and cold and didn’t even kiss you on the second date,’ said Anna, her expression dubious. ‘He must really have something about him, to have you like putty in his hands when he hasn’t even put out!’

  ‘Hmm. And it sounds to me like you’re using this poor Matthias boy,’ Ryan concurred. ‘This boy, who seems so lovely and, what’s more, lives so very conveniently around the corner. You had a great connection, by the sounds of things, and you say you wound up having mind-blowingly good sex on your first date. But, despite all that, you’re still holding out for Jérémy …’ His expression was both pained and perplexed. ‘I’m sorry, Sally, but none of this adds up.’

  ‘I don’t think I would say I used Matthias …’ I countered, affronted by his accusation. ‘I mean, there was nothing calculating or pre-meditated about what happened. I tried my best to make it clear I saw him as friendship material. He ended up taking me by surprise at the end of the evening, that’s all. And I got caught up in the moment …’ The waiter appeared with our orders and I clammed up, too embarrassed to go on in his presence.

  ‘But you went back to his place! I don’t know …’ Ryan rolled his eyes, ignoring the platter of charcuterie before him. ‘You complained at length about Jérémy’s mixed signals, but frankly, my dear, your behaviour is no better than his.’ He was wagging his finger at me now, in his best imitation of a pre-school teacher reprimanding an infant. If it was intended to be humorous, it wasn’t having quite the desired effect. It felt as though my friends were ganging up on me, and I didn’t like the feeling one little bit.

  ‘If it’s friendship you were after, Sally,’ Anna said doubtfully, ‘you’ve got to admit Rendez-vous wasn’t the most logical place to start. Matthias obviously thought your actions spoke louder than your words … And judging by those text messages you showed us, he still does …’

  ‘Well, like I said, I’ve kind of put him on hold for now,’ I said, defensively, my cheeks reddening. ‘I had no way of knowing he was going to want to see me again.’ I hoped this would be the end of the discussion. The spotlight was beginning to feel uncomfortably warm, and I longed to tuck into my steak.

  Anna frowned, unwilling to let the subject drop. ‘Do you think it’s fair to keep him simmering on a low heat while you explore your other options?’ she said. ‘Would you want someone to treat you that way?’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ I interrupted, throwing down the chip I’d been about to pop into my mouth in disgust, conscious that I was raising my voice now as my own resentment boiled over. ‘If you cast your mind back to that conversation we had when we were walking the dog with Lila in the Parc de Belleville, wasn’t that what you were doing with Alex? A host of other guys were clamouring for your attention and you were all for keeping your options open then, stalling Alex to buy yourself some extra time …’ How could Anna have such double standards, I thought to myself, beginning to see red. How could Ryan, former king of the one-night stand, lecture me about ‘using someone for sex’? It was as though they thought there was one rule for me and one rule for them. In short, it was singularly unfair.

  ‘I did say those things,’ Anna admitted, her cheeks flushed, whether in anger or embarrassment, I wasn’t sure. ‘And I carried on going on dates with other people behind Alex’s back for a while after that. Until this one day when I was in a bar with someone else and Alex walked right past the window …’

  ‘Ooh! Did he catch you?’ Ryan interrupted, choking down a piece of saucisson sec. ‘Did he storm in and make a horrible scene?’ He was doing his best, I realized, to diffuse the tension which had begun to crackle between Anna and me, before things got too ugly.

  Anna shook her head. ‘He didn’t see me, no … But I realized how awful I’d have felt if he had confronted me. I stopped agreeing to meet my other “possibles” and “maybes” after that.’ She gave me a meaningful look. ‘I decided that if I didn’t have the balls to be honest with him and tell him I still wanted to date other people, then I had no business doing it. Sneaking around was dishonest. It made me no better than Tom.’

  I hung my head, looking down at the Roquefort sauce which had been congealing on my steak as we talked. Deep down, I knew that much of what Anna and Ryan had said about my infatuation with Jérémy and my cavalier treatment of Matthias made perfect sense and, if I’d allowed my hackles to rise, it was partly because I was still sore about having to learn about this evening’s dinner quite by accident. To my mind, Anna and Ryan were the ones who were guilty of doing all the skulking, behind my back.

  ‘It’s so easy for you both,’ I said sullenly, sentiments I’d been keeping under wraps for months spilling forth before I could hold myself in check. ‘Look at you two. You have your perfect boyfriends. You have all this freedom you take completely for granted: you can go out whenever you choose. I’ve been on my own for almost a year. I rarely get to go out. I’ve forgotten the meaning of the word “spontaneous”. Instead, I get to leave parties when they start to get interesting. I get to watch my friends cosying up together behind my back without the slightest intention of inviting me along …’

  My voice wobbled as I got to the end of my self-pitying monologue. There was a stunned silence and, raising my eyes from my dinner plate, I glanced first at Ryan, then at Anna. They wore matching dumbfounded expressions, and seemed to have lost both their tongues and their appetites. Had I alienated two of my favourite people, for good? What on earth had I done?

  ‘Sally,’ said Anna in a pained voice, ‘I had no idea you were feeling this way … When I think that, all this time, I’ve been feeling jealous of you.’ She shook her head. ‘I guess it goes to show that people always want what they can’t have.’

  ‘You? Jealous of me?’ I couldn’t believe I’d heard her correctly. ‘How can that be possible? I … I don’t understand.’

  ‘Let me spell it out for you,’ said Anna evenly. ‘You have an amazing daughter, this little person who loves you unconditionally, and who gives you a reason to get up every morning and who you can go home to every single night. You speak amazing French, which means you can communicate properly with everyone around you, and hold meaningful, adult conversations with your dates or the Frenchmen you meet at parties. You’re a European, which gives you the absolute right to live in this wonderful city for as long as you choose. Do I need to go on?’

  My throat constricted, and I didn’t trust myself to speak, shaking my head mutely instead.

  ‘Me, on the other hand,’ she continued regardless, ‘well … I’m fighting for the right to live and work in this city once my divorce is finalized, because somehow it’s gotten right under my skin. I can order a baguette, but I can’t have anything but the most stilted, superficial conversations with Alex, or any other French person I might meet. I hate living alone, and there are many, many nights when I dread going back to my empty apartment.’

  ‘If you ladies would allow me to interrupt your pity party for a moment,’ Ryan interrupted, his expression grave, ‘then I’d like to add my two euros’ worth, if I may. Now, I can see why you might feel like everything is ten times harder for you, Sally.’ Ryan sighed, covering my hand with his. ‘And I sympathize, honey, I do. But try and look at the situation from where I
’m sitting for a moment. It’s hard to know what to do for the best. If I invite you out when I’m almost certain you’re not free, I worry that hearing about what you’re missing will make you feel worse. If I don’t, I’m accused of skulking behind your back. But, regardless of what you seem to think, Anna and I didn’t make some sort of unanimous decision to exclude you tonight. We knew your Mum was staying. End of story.’

  ‘It’s funny,’ I said sheepishly. ‘Now that I’ve said some of that stuff out loud, I realize how much I’ve been guilty of getting things out of proportion. I’m so sorry. Lashing out at you two is the last thing on earth I should be doing.’

  ‘Well, hopefully we’ve cleared the air, now that you two have said your quatre vérités,’ said Ryan philosophically. ‘You’ve both had a tough year, and you’re dealing with it well, in your different ways. I for one think we should all take a deep breath, put this behind us, and move on.’

  ‘We ought to tuck into this food before it gets any colder, too,’ I added, gesturing at my untouched steak and Anna’s ‘cannibal burger’, which she’d only got as far as slicing in half.

  When we left the Cannibale, a couple of hours later, I hugged Ryan and Anna tightly before we parted company. I wasn’t proud of the scene I’d caused but, as Ryan had said, getting it all off our chests, telling our ‘four truths’, as the French expression went, had done us all the power of good.

  First Mum and I had surrendered our weapons and called a much-needed ceasefire, and now I’d dealt with the undercurrent of jealousy that had been threatening to sabotage my friendship with Anna for some time. And Anna’s unexpected words had given me pause: she’d reminded me that there were always two ways of looking at any situation. I’d been staring, despairingly, at a half-empty glass, but from her own parched perspective, it had looked half full, all along.

  Mum’s flying visit came to an end on Thursday evening, when I bundled her into a taxi at six o’clock to catch the last Eurostar. She’d be staying overnight with my Aunt Sarah in London, then travelling up to Yorkshire the next day.

  ‘I’ll come for a bit longer next time,’ she promised, while the taxi driver loaded her suitcase into the boot of his car. ‘And maybe, by then, you’ll be able to introduce me to some nice young man …’

  Lila and I waved at the departing taxi until it had turned the corner into rue Lesage, then made our way back inside. As we crossed the courtyard, my eyes darted across to the windows that must belong to my new neighbour Pete’s apartment, but all was in darkness, the shutters closed.

  I was sinking into the sofa after Lila’s bath and bedtime story, my hand poised on the remote to switch on the eight o’clock news, when I heard a knock at the door. Several possibilities flickered through my mind in quick succession. Could it be Kate, reeling from a confrontation with Yves? Or Pete, back home and pretending he needed to borrow some sugar, or using some other – equally contrived – pretext to get to know me better? But, when I peered through the peephole, it was Matthias I saw. Unlocking the door, I stared at him, wide-eyed. He wore a hesitant smile and he was carrying half a dozen long-stemmed gerberas in fiery reds and oranges.

  ‘J’espère que je te dérange pas … I happened to be in the neighbourhood,’ Matthias said, his lips twitching at his own joke. ‘I thought if it was difficult for you to come out, maybe I could make a house call, instead. Bring the mountain to Mohammed …’ He held out the bunch of flowers and I took them, still too stunned to speak, to move aside or motion him inside. With my free hand I made a futile attempt to smooth down my frizzy hair. I might have complained to Anna and Ryan that my life lacked spontaneity, but this wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind.

  ‘I should have called first, I’m sorry … I’m trespassing. It was a stupid idea …’ Matthias took a step backwards and turned, as though he were about to leave.

  ‘No. Wait! You caught me by surprise,’ I replied, recovering my composure, ‘but it’s okay, you can come in for a while.’ I drew back to let him pass. ‘And actually,’ I added, remembering the previous night’s conversation with Ryan and Anna, ‘I needed to talk to you anyway.’

  Matthias walked to the centre of the living room and contemplated his surroundings with evident interest. I was suddenly conscious of the unwashed dishes in the sink, Lila’s crayons littering the coffee table and the sheets I’d stripped off Mum’s bed and left in an untidy pile in a corner of the room. There was an uneasy silence while I put the flowers in water and fetched two glasses and a carton of grapefruit juice from the kitchen. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have anything stronger,’ I said, pouring a glass and handing it to Matthias. ‘My Mum’s been staying and, between us, we polished off every drop of alcohol I had in the house.’

  ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’ Matthias peered through the window at the courtyard beyond, but I could see his reflection in the curtainless window, and his expression was apprehensive. ‘I have to admit,’ he added, turning to face me again with a wry expression, ‘I don’t much like speeches that begin that way. They generally continue with something along the lines of “I really like you,” followed by a list of reasons why things won’t work out …’

  I lowered myself into the sofa, trying to work out exactly what I wanted to say and how I was going to say it. Just as I was clearing my throat to speak, I heard the unmistakable whine of the hinges on Lila’s bedroom door. Sure enough, the door was opening and, a moment later, she stood in the doorway, her face flushed with sleep, her hair standing on end. ‘I need to go wee wee, Mummy,’ Lila murmured, not noticing Matthias at first, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the light. She began padding across the parquet floor in the direction of the bathroom, pausing when she suddenly became aware of the male stranger standing by the window.

  ‘Lila, honey, this is a friend of Mummy’s, called Matthias,’ I said, rising to my feet and instantly regretting my use of the third person ‘Mummy’ in his presence. ‘He came over to say hello.’ Lila nodded, seemingly satisfied with my explanation, then gestured towards the bunch of flowers I’d stowed inside a water jug on the kitchen countertop, for want of a vase. ‘Did your friend bring you those pretty flowers, Mummy?’ she asked, looking at Matthias with renewed interest when I nodded to confirm that this was so. ‘Elles sont jolies,’ she said, staring at the flowers for a moment before she continued her trajectory towards the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind her.

  ‘Elle est adorable,’ said Matthias, his voice filled with admiration. ‘And perfectly bilingual. No wonder you’re so proud of her.’

  ‘Lila’s never met a male friend of mine before,’ I said quietly, my eyes remaining fixed on the closed bathroom door. ‘I made a decision when I joined Rendez-vous to keep my single life separate from my time with her.’

  ‘I think that’s sensible,’ Matthias replied carefully. ‘And of course I can see why you’d feel that was a good idea. But I’m honoured to have met her, tonight, even if I did rather force your hand.’

  Lila emerged from the bathroom – leaving the toilet unflushed, as I noted with some embarrassment – and I watched in silence as she padded back to her bedroom, blew me a kiss and disappeared inside, leaving her door ajar. I was confused. Unwittingly, Matthias had ridden roughshod over my rules, showing up unannounced like this. And yet, instead of resenting him for it, I’d found the experience oddly liberating. My two worlds had collided – accidentally – and it hadn’t been anything like the big deal I’d expected it to be. Lila had taken an alien male presence in our home in her stride, and I couldn’t have hoped for the scene to play out in a more natural way.

  ‘Before your daughter’s charming interruption, you were about to say something,’ Matthias prompted gently.

  ‘I was,’ I said reluctantly, sinking back down on to the sofa, then wishing I hadn’t, as Matthias now dwarfed me with his height. ‘There’s this person I met on Rendez-vous a couple of weeks before you,’ I continued, looking up at him through my eyelashes. ‘I found myself liking
him a lot. And I have no idea where things are going with him – the whole thing is far from clear, just now – but, under the circumstances, I thought it was only fair to tell you. What happened between us the other night was lovely, and I don’t regret it, but I never intended for it to happen. And I’m really, really flattered that you want to see me again, but I think it would be unfair to continue seeing one another while my head is elsewhere …’ I refrained from adding something clichéd about how I wished we could remain friends, even if I’d have loved to be able to keep Matthias within my orbit. By sleeping with him, I was pretty sure I’d burned those bridges. Matthias was staring at me, his expression difficult to read.

  ‘I see,’ he replied, finally. ‘Well, I suppose I do appreciate your honesty …’ He sighed, and glanced over at the door, as though he wished he were already on the other side of it. ‘I had an amazing time with you that night,’ he continued, ‘and I thought it made sense to explore where it might lead … But if you like this other man as much as it seems, then you’re right, I’m wasting my time …’ He took a step towards the sofa, and for a second I found myself wishing he would pull me to my feet and kiss me. But whatever he’d been planning to do, he seemed to think better of the idea. ‘Good luck with everything, Sally,’ he said, turning towards the door instead. ‘It was nice knowing you.’

  I watched mutely as Matthias left the room. I knew Ryan would have applauded my honesty, had he been a fly on the wall. I’d done the right thing by Matthias: he didn’t deserve to be messed around. There was nothing for it now but to consign the wonderful, sensual night we’d spent together to memory, filing it under ‘one-night stand’, and accepting that it would never be repeated.

  I’d made my bed and, for now, I’d have to lie in it alone.

  25