Beneath the Parisian Skies

by Alli Sinclair

  ‘No. Well, yes…not you, exactly, it’s just…’ She puffed out her cheeks and slumped against the wall.

  ‘Perhaps it is better to have this conversation if I am dressed.’ He went back to the bedroom and muttered while he opened and closed drawers. Yves promptly appeared in a black T-shirt and faded denim jeans.

  Eyeing off the couch where they had spent many sensual hours, she chose to sit on the reading chair opposite. Yves sat on the couch and adjusted the cushions.

  ‘I would really like to make you breakfast.’

  ‘No, thank you. I can’t stay.’ Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘Listen, I had a lovely time last night but it can’t happen again.’

  Something flashed in his eyes. Was it hurt? Surprise?

  He ran his hands through his hair, unable to meet her gaze. ‘Is it because of our agreement? Because if it is, please know, I can keep this separate.’

  His words didn’t match his wavering tone.

  ‘I’m sure you can, Yves, but a lot has gone on in my life and I just…I’m not capable of being close with anyone.’

  ‘It didn’t appear that way last night.’

  Heat crept up her neck and spread across her face. ‘Can we just forget what happened? Please? I’m happy to be your inspirationist but no more hanky-panky, okay?’

  Although knowing the smooth, muscular body beneath those clothes could be hers again, she couldn’t comprehend how she could be near him without her body—and mind—lusting after him. Nope. This would not do.

  His shoulders dropped slightly. It would be so much easier if she told him about Aiden but how on earth could she admit to the world, especially to Yves, that she felt like she’d just cheated on her fiancé? Any sane person would tell her it’s impossible to cheat on someone who’s dead but her heart didn’t agree. Deep in her soul she knew the truth—she was far from over Aiden.

  ‘Let me make you coffee.’ Yves’s tone sounded hopeful.

  She stood, clutching her bag. ‘Thank you, but no.’

  ‘Lily…’ He got up and reached for her hand but she gently moved away.

  ‘I’m sorry, Yves. There’s a lot going on and I promise you, none of it is your fault. You’ve been very kind and caring and the last thing I want is to mess you around. Please, let’s just stick to our original plan and leave it at that.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘No, Lily Johansson, you do not get to make the final ruling. It is obvious you are troubled and you need to talk to someone, so why not me? You have already said the only people you know in Paris are me and your sister, and in this moment she will not talk with you. I do not like you leaving here upset. Please, tell me what is wrong.’

  ‘I can’t. It’s a part of history that won’t leave my present.’ Lily looked up at the pressed ceiling. ‘People say time heals wounds but that’s bullshit.’

  ‘I can help.’ His caring smile twisted the knife in her heart.

  A sense of calm enveloped her then her chest constricted and it felt like the air had been sucked out. Pangs of anxiety spread throughout her body, and with a racing heart, she grabbed her bag, bolted for the door and yanked it open.

  ‘I’m sorry, Yves,’ she mumbled.

  Dashing down the stairs, she didn’t let her feet hesitate, all the while feeling that Yves was up on the third floor, watching. Rounding a corner, she glanced up and sure enough, there he was, hands resting on the banister, his handsome face clouded with concern and confusion. Or was it hurt? If she were a stronger woman she’d turn around and go back up to his apartment and tell him the truth but instead, her legs propelled her down the stairs. And as her heels clacked along the parquetry floor of the foyer, Lily Johansson’s spirit fractured a little more.

  CHAPTER

  10

  Once again Lily found herself in an expansive foyer of an apartment block, the Parisian sky outside morphing from daylight to inky black. When she’d first stood here a week ago she’d been too nervous to take in the surrounds but now she was forced to wait, she noticed Natalie’s apartment block was as modern as Yves’s was vintage.

  Oh, Yves.

  She missed him more than she wanted to. Since the mad dash from his apartment he hadn’t bothered contacting her, although she hadn’t reached out to him either.

  Perhaps she should text him. Make the first move. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him again, she just…What did she want?

  Lily studied the phone in her hand, the debate raging within. Text? Not text?

  Scrolling through her phone she found his name and tapped on Send Message.

  Yves, I’m sorry about this morning.

  Delete. Delete. Delete.

  Yves, I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. There’s so much going on with me right now that being with you is too complicated.

  Delete. Delete. Delete.

  Yves, I’m sorry if I have confused things by leaving so suddenly after our night together. I…

  Why was this so hard?

  On the walk to Natalie’s, Lily had debated the sanity behind trying again with her sister but after the events with Yves, Lily knew she had to do it. Right now, she felt like a boat bobbing on an ocean of emotion, fearing the waves could wash over her and she’d perish forever. Talking with Natalie—really talking—could be the one thing that could keep Lily afloat.

  Entering the lift, she pushed the button and a few moments later found herself standing outside the red door of Natalie’s apartment. She raised a hesitant hand then knocked lightly.

  No answer.

  This time her knuckles connected with the door with more force. It swung open to reveal a short, petite blonde.

  ‘Oui?’

  ‘I’m Lily, Natalie’s—’

  ‘Sister,’ the woman said with a thick English accent.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m Penny, her flatmate. We’re also in Bohème together. Please, come in.’ She gestured for Lily to enter and she did so with slight hesitation. What would Natalie say about Lily entering the apartment without her knowledge?

  Penny closed the door gently and motioned for Lily to sit on a black leather chair. Framed posters of Picasso’s Cubist works hung on the wall and shelves overflowed with photos of Natalie in every production she’d danced in since she was a child. There wasn’t one photo of Lily and Natalie together—a painful, stabbing reminder of the rift between them.

  Penny sat on the armchair opposite and crossed her legs. ‘You don’t look anything like what I’d imagined.’

  ‘You mean I don’t have pointy horns?’ Lily asked.

  Penny laughed and shook her head. ‘She didn’t mention horns but she did say something about the tail of a devil.’

  ‘Ah, so she has told you about me.’ Lily tried to keep it light-hearted.

  ‘She’s told me enough to know you two don’t get along.’

  ‘That’s a bit of an understatement.’

  ‘It’s all right, I have a sister. I get it.’

  ‘I certainly hope the relationship with your sister isn’t as tumultuous as the one I have with Natalie,’ Lily said. ‘Is she still at rehearsal? I thought she would have finished by now.’ Lily felt like she was imposing.

  Penny leaned forward. ‘So you don’t know?’

  ‘Don’t know what?’ Dread sat on her shoulder and she tried to push it off.

  Penny sighed and settled against the chair. ‘Natalie left here last night. She was super huffy and kept mumbling to herself. All I could make out was something about getting to the bottom of things and that he couldn’t get away with it.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean? Was she seeing someone?’ Lily shifted on the chair.

  ‘I’ve seen her a few times with a mystery guy—tall, gorgeous, cliché male model material—but when I asked about him she said he was a modelling agent. I didn’t believe her. Anyway, last night she took off with an overnight bag and said she didn’t know how long she’d be.’

  ‘But s
he’s an understudy. She has to rehearse,’ Lily said.

  ‘I know but apparently something far more important came up.’

  ‘Nothing would be more important, especially in Natalie’s world. Her leaving like this doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Penny. ‘It could be a dirty weekend but I couldn’t see her giving up rehearsals for that. Besides, she was in quite a mood. It didn’t look like she was headed off for some loving.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Lily drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. ‘That does sound rather odd.’

  ‘Odd is her norm of late.’

  ‘You’ve noticed it, too?’

  Penny rubbed her chin. ‘She has been acting weirder than normal since she’s in the running for the part of Viktoriya Budian.’

  ‘Weirder than normal?’

  ‘Yes. Instead of being Miss Social Butterfly, she’s been holing herself up in her room for hours on end, reading until the wee hours of the morning. I’ve had to force her to eat and get out in the daylight for some vitamin D. I’m not one to hit the panic button, but I am extremely worried about her.’

  The last two times Lily had seen Natalie she’d noticed the dark rings under her eyes and had put it down to her busy dance schedule. Perhaps whatever was bothering Natalie had an impact on her behaviour towards Lily. The pieces of the puzzle, as spread out as they were, looked like they could possibly click into place.

  ‘What was she reading?’ Lily asked.

  ‘I don’t know. She was very secretive and every time I went into her room she’d shove whatever it was under her pillow.’

  ‘Have you been into her room since she left?’

  ‘No.’ Penny looked away then focussed on Lily. ‘But I will turn a blind eye if you do.’

  Lily bit her lip, a little nervous about invading her sister’s space. ‘Where is her room?’

  ‘Two doors to your left.’

  Lily stood and made her way to the door, then hesitated. Perhaps she was too hasty in prying into her sister’s world, but it didn’t make any sense for Natalie to disappear, especially risking her career with an unexplained leave of absence. As flighty as her sister could be, this hasty departure far exceeded all the other dumb things she’d done in her life. It even beat the time she went skydiving before her first major role with the Australian Ballet.

  Twisting the knob, Lily crossed the threshold, still unsure she was doing the right thing. If she got caught snooping, then any chance of calm discussions with Natalie would be ruined.

  Although the day outside was bright, the curtains were drawn across the windows. Opening them up, she stood in the centre of the room. Fuchsia organza hung from a four-poster bed, matching perfectly with the silk fuchsia quilt, pillows and bedside lamp. The neat room didn’t surprise her as Natalie had always been pedantic about everything having a place, unlike Lily, whose bedroom constantly looked like someone had just committed a robbery or pulled an all-night party with a rock band.

  Where to begin? She placed her hands on her hips, hoping a sign would miraculously land in front of her. She got nothing.

  Going with the most obvious places, Lily tentatively went through the bedside table drawers, tall boy, cupboard and shelves. All she found were more photos and articles about Natalie, travel books and clothes. Reaching up, Lily moved a lid away and dipped her hand in the last box on the shelf. Her fingers touched something soft and silky. She pulled the box down and inspected the contents. Hot tears pricked her eyes. Lying in light blue tissue paper were Natalie’s first pair of pointe shoes. Lily had saved up her pocket money and bought them for her sister’s birthday, hoping Natalie would continue with ballet so one day they could grace the stage together in a duet. Unfortunately, that never happened and now never would.

  Closing the lid and stashing the shoes back in their hidey-hole, Lily shut the cupboard door and leaned against it. Even though Natalie had behaved abysmally towards her sister, this small token put a different spin on things.

  Kneeling beside the bed and reaching underneath, her hand crashed into something hard and velvety.

  Resting with her back against the bedframe, Lily carefully opened the red velvet box, unsure what would greet her. Peering in, she found a stack of leather-bound notebooks. They looked very much like the ones her great-grandmother…Oh wow. Grabbing a book, she hastily opened it and flicked through the pages. Familiar neat writing adorned the yellowed paper and visions of Lily and Natalie sitting on the couch with their great-grandmother flashed before her. How many hours had they huddled together as their great-grandmother recounted tales of Viktoriya’s life with the Ballets Russes, leaving Lily and Natalie in rapture? Although, even as a young girl, Lily suspected her great-grandmother had glossed over some of the details as she translated from Russian to English. It wasn’t until years later that Lily and Natalie discovered there was a lot more to Viktoriya’s life than their great-grandmother had let on. When their great-grandmother had passed away, Viktoriya Budian’s diaries had mysteriously disappeared yet here they were, in Natalie’s possession.

  Looking in the box again, Lily noticed some numbered folders. She picked one up, flipped open a page and found dates and text in English. With the other hand, she sifted through the pile of original diaries, noticing they were numbered also. When had that happened? Natalie must have done it, but why?

  Oh.

  ‘Translations,’ Lily mumbled.

  Finding a diary that matched with a folder, Lily put them against each other. Recalling the rudimentary Russian she’d learned from her great-grandmother, Lily double-checked the dates with the English translation. She shifted into a more comfortable position and started reading:

  March 28, 1917

  My parents have always instilled the belief that everyone deserves a second chance, yet there are times when I wonder if that should always be the case. Of course, I want a second chance with the ballet but after my last effort, I do wonder if Diaghilev has lost faith in me forever. It hurts. I’ve worked so hard and I shouldn’t let anything—or anyone—distract me but since reuniting with Alexei, it’s brought back so many memories of who I once was. And now I’m not so sure I want to be that person I was in Russia. France is new. France is a chance to realise my dreams. I’d also thought France would help me find my true self, but right now I’m not sure if I’m capable. I’m so confused, especially with Alexei being so different to the man he was before. There’s a strange air about him…I just can’t put my finger on it, though.

  None of this rang bells with what their great-grandmother had read them. Fascinated, Lily turned to another entry:

  12 May, 1917

  I wish I could trust him but his recent behaviour has proved I shouldn’t. It breaks my heart to bear witness to his spiralling descent into his own personal hell. I love him, he’s such an important part of my life, but I can’t trust he’ll do right by me anymore. I should know better and not put faith in anyone but myself. I worry this could end everything I’ve worked so hard for but if it is done, as I suspect, I cannot turn back the clock. My biggest fear now is for my family.

  A knock at the door brought her attention to the present.

  Penny stepped into the room. ‘I thought I would check to make sure you are okay.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ Lily motioned for her to enter. ‘Look at this.’

  Penny reached for the book and squinted as she read the page then flicked through a few more. Eventually, she locked eyes with Lily. ‘What is this?’

  ‘Viktoriya Budian’s diaries.’

  ‘Pardon?’ Penny crouched beside her and gently ran her hand over the leather diaries. ‘The Viktoriya Budian? Shouldn’t these be in a museum?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Lily returned to staring at the pieces of history in her lap. ‘Natalie writes diaries. Did you know that?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Ever since she was little. She’s always found it difficult to make friends so she turned to her diaries and they kept her company. As far as
I know, she never got out of the habit.’

  Standing, Lily shoved her hands under the mattress. Her fingers connected with a book and she pulled it out. ‘Aha!’

  ‘Natalie’s diary?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Are you going to read it?’

  Lily couldn’t tell if Penny’s look was one of horror or delightful anticipation.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Lily dropped it onto the bed like it was a hot potato. ‘What if we’re wrong? What if she comes back and we’ve snooped for no reason?’

  ‘But she’s missed rehearsals. Surely she wouldn’t do that unless she had a good reason.’

  ‘True.’

  Penny tilted her head to the side. ‘You’re the only one who can choose whether to read these or not.’

  ‘I don’t want to choose!’

  Lily stared at the small book lying innocently on her sister’s pink bed. She’d already gone too far by going through Natalie’s things but opening this little bundle of pages felt like it would be the ultimate disrespect and she’d find herself in a place of hell from which she’d never return.

  ‘I can’t do it,’ she said. ‘It’s not right.’

  Lily grabbed Viktoriya’s diaries and the folders and started piling them in the box. When their great-grandmother had read from Viktoriya’s diaries all those years ago, it hadn’t occurred to Lily that this was an invasion of someone’s privacy, no matter that they weren’t around anymore; yet now it felt so very different.

  Penny watched Lily and said, ‘I’m not sure how relevant this is to Natalie taking off, but she did mention something about a strange feeling she had when she rehearsed at the theatre.’

  ‘Like what?’ Lily asked.

  ‘She spoke about a presence. Like a ghost was following her around and whispering in her ear.’

  Hadn’t Yves said something about a presence with Viktoriya’s Chanel dress? As much as Lily wanted to deny it, at times Paris was like a city of ghosts, including her own.

  She rested her hands on the box. ‘Natalie’s always been a superstitious person and I know she believes in ghosts. Do you think she was talking about Viktoriya Budian?’