by Lost
‘Let’s find somewhere to eat,’ Raff suggested. ‘Then you can rest your foot.’ He signalled for a taxi to take them to a restaurant he knew on the other side of the Seine near the Eiffel Tower.
‘Now we can still enjoy the view,’ he said, helping her out of the taxi, ‘and eat moules if you’re in the mood.’
‘Perfect,’ Sophie said happily. What could be better? They ordered some mussels and relaxed with a glass of Muscadet each.
Raff watched Sophie discreetly. She looked gorgeous today, with her dark hair loose, her shades holding it back from her face. She was simply dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt, a navy suit-style jacket and Converse. It felt so natural being here in Paris with her. Which Raff couldn’t understand, because it had been five years since Sophie had been in Paris. Five years since they had sat and eaten mussels and drank white wine together.
Raff watched her happily, but his stomach lurched. He couldn’t stop panicking about Estelle turning up. It would be the worst possible timing, and Raff had a gut instinct that it might all go horribly wrong again between him and Sophie. Things were amazing but rather fragile right now. Estelle arriving would be like throwing a hand grenade into the mix and Raff couldn’t help feeling huge apprehension about her possible arrival.
‘Shall we go to Montmartre later?’ he blurted out impulsively. They used to love hanging out in Montmartre, strolling around the artists quarters, sitting in cafes.
Sophie finished her wine. ‘I would absolutely love to.’
Again, what could be better?
‘Would it be ridiculous to order champagne?’ Raff suggested. ‘It feels like the right thing to do today after that hotel and all the wedding talk.’
‘No, it wouldn’t be ridiculous,’ Sophie answered with a smile. ‘When have I ever said no to champagne?’
Raff grinned. ‘Very true.’ He called a waiter over.
As they sat and chatted over the Moules mariniére, enjoying the crisp chilled champagne that shot bubbles up their nose and the delicious white wine, cream and shallot sauce the plump mussels sat in. They shared frites and dipped French bread in the rich sauce, and Sophie suddenly realised that her life back in England seemed like a lifetime ago. Jo was due to visit shortly, so Sophie was sure she would feel much closer to England then, but right now, it was almost as though she hadn’t ever left Paris.
‘Let’s go,’ Raff said, paying the bill. He took her hand and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Sophie found that she couldn’t stop smiling. Taking yet another cab because of her achey ankle, they got out as far up as the taxi would take them. Sophie used to enjoy getting to Montmartre by approaching the Sacre-Coeur by going first up all the steps, and then walking round, but today wasn’t the day for that. It was gloriously sunny and full of tourists, which was how Sophie had always remembered it whenever she had allowed herself to think about Paris.
‘Your ankle is going to feel awful on all the cobbles,’ Raff realised.
‘I didn’t even think of that,’ Sophie said, clutching her head. ‘I’ll probably go over on it again.’
‘Let’s just see how we go. And maybe duck into a cafe.’
They went for a careful wander, choosing the streets with the flatter pavements where they could. The bright white façade of the Sacre-Coeur rose up in the background and the air was full of bohemia with artists selling their work, musicians playing music in the streets and restaurants churning out good food and wine. Slightly further out, they enjoyed the charm of the side streets, the houses heavy with greenery and floral blossoms draped over the doorways. They saw La Maison Rose, the famous cafe-bistro in the heart of Montmartre, with its pink exterior and green shutters. They avoided steps where they could, which was slightly tricky, but Sophie resigned herself to having to test her ankle at some point.
Raff loved Montmartre at night and there was also a very pretty ‘secret’ vineyard nearby he would love to visit with Sophie, but they were running out of time and Raff wanted to get back and check on the macaron shop.
‘Let’s get you down these steps,’ he said, wondering if he should give Sophie a piggy back or a fireman’s lift over his shoulder.
‘Don’t you dare,’ Sophie said, as if she could read his mind. ‘I’ll walk down and I’ll be fine.’
‘Ha. You know me so well. Ok, but hold my arm and don’t be all brave and silly about it.’
Sophie climbed down the steps, leaning heavily on Raff’s arm, and they grabbed another taxi at the bottom, which felt stupidly extravagant, but Sophie couldn’t help it; her ankle was throbbing badly again now.
In the taxi, Sophie’s phone pinged. Thinking it was Pinter checking in after the visit at the wedding venue, she was surprised to find that it was a text from her mum.
Sorry if I’ve worried you, ma chérie, but I’ll be home in two weeks’ time. Can’t wait to see you. Am sending this message to Eloise as well. Hope the shop is doing well. I love you xx.
Sophie felt a rush of shock. Home in two weeks’ time? Where had that come from?
‘Are you ok?’ Raff asked, concerned. ‘That’s the news you’ve been waiting for all along, but I guess it’s a bit unexpected.’
Sophie mouth curled. She was overjoyed and taken aback and anxious all at the same time: overjoyed because it was the best news; taken aback because Sophie felt as though she had been in limbo for the past two months; anxious because she still had no idea where her mum had been or what any of it meant, but also because… she had no idea what it might mean for her and Raff.
‘Don’t worry about us,’ Raff told her, sensing her apprehension from afar. He took her hand. ‘And I mean that, Sophie. Just get your mum back and we’ll just take it from there. Ok?’
‘Ok,’ she nodded. She was reminded of her conversation with Henri the night before. What difference did it make to her and Raff that her mum was coming back? She supposed it negated the reason for her being in Paris; after all she had only come back to find Mariele. So once she had been found or returned, Sophie had no reason to stay in Paris any longer. Did she?
At the same time, England seemed alien to her now, and that wasn’t what she thought was going to happen. She had thought that she wouldn’t have been able to wait to go back to England and for her life to get back to normal – whatever that was. But maybe that normal no longer existed because Ryan was no longer there, and her friends… she was speaking to them almost every other day so they didn’t feel that distant. And her job was portable…
Sophie hadn’t ever imagined settling down in Paris once more. But she had such strong feelings for Raff again… God, it was all so confusing!
‘Why is the light on in the house?’ she said, noticing it as they pulled up.
‘No idea.’ Raff helped her out. ‘Perhaps Eloise has come over for some reason. No one else has a key, do they?’
Sophie shook her head and pushed the front door open. ‘No. Apart from… Grand-mère!’
‘Sophie!’
Fifi. Raff leant against the door frame and watched Sophie and her grandmother embrace.
‘What are you doing here?’ Fifi asked, kissing Sophie’s cheeks repeatedly. ‘I had no idea you were in Paris. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come here sooner.’
Sophie wasn’t sure what to say.
‘I’m so happy to see you,’ Fifi said, pulling Sophie into a hug again. ‘What’s happening with that boy you were seeing?’
‘Nothing,’ Sophie said, avoiding Raff’s eyes. ‘He’s… out of the picture.’
‘Aah well.’ Fifi raised her heavily painted in eyebrows. ‘Your mother said he was a bit girly. I’m sure you can do far better.’
Sophie stifled a giggle. Girly? God, poor Ryan. He was actually built like a tank, so Sophie had no idea where they got the ‘girly’ idea from.
Fifi removed herself from Sophie’s arms and fixed her beady eyes on Raff. ‘Raphael. Come here, you delicious specimen of manhood.’
Raff laughed a
nd hugged her. Fifi was an absolute minx. A flamboyant colourful character, French to the core, with dark hair cut in a sharp bob and held in place by a lot of hair lacquer. Dressed in a genuine pink Chanel suit, with a scarf knotted around her throat and decorated with an oversized brooch – also Chanel – Fifi wore higher heels than most women her age and her tan handbag clashed with her suit, but it was quality and in her eyes that was all that mattered. Painfully thin, she owed her slender frame to the complete avoidance of butter and a heavy reliance on nicotine; she smoked wherever she pleased, despite the new laws in place in most cafes and restaurants. Fifi was old school and felt that the new rules simply didn’t apply to her.
‘Now.’ Fifi pulled off the signature leather gloves she always wore regardless of the weather. ‘Where is your mother, Sophie? I haven’t heard from her in ages apart from a few silly texts and I want to know what’s going on.’
Sophie and Raff exchanged a glance.
‘Well, that’s the problem, Grand-mère,’ Sophie said, shrugging. ‘None of us know what’s going on.’
‘What?’ Fifi looked astonished. ‘How can that be? Someone must know.’
‘No. No one knows. I’ve spoken to her once on the phone, but that’s it.’
Fifi looked perplexed, but determined. ‘Well, that won’t do. We’re going to have to figure out where she is and what’s going on.’
‘We’ve tried everything we can think of,’ Raff informed her. ‘Photos, childhood places, hints in Mariele’s messages. And we’ve hit a dead end every time.’
Sophie showed Fifi the text she had just received. ‘Look, she’s due home in two weeks’ time. We might just have to wait it out.’
Fifi snorted. ‘How ridiculous! What is she playing at? I’m not happy about this at all.’
‘I’ll take your luggage upstairs,’ Raff said, throwing Sophie an amused glance.
‘Thank you, mon chéri,’ Fifi said distractedly. She sat down in a nearby armchair and took out her cigarette case. ‘You’re going to have to tell me everything, Sophie, and I’m going to need a very strong brandy.’
‘I’ll get you one,’ Sophie said.
‘Good. And then, mon bébé,’ Fifi said, snapping her cigarette lighter shut with a smart click, ‘then, we are going to call the police.’
Chapter Nineteen
‘So you managed to deter Fifi from calling the gendarmes?’
Sophie rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, just about.’ She carefully placed one of Raff’s latest, rather daring creations – an almond praline shot with lime – into a new pink and silver swirl boxes. The bags weren’t ready yet, but the boxes were receiving lots of comments and compliments.
‘Merci beaucoup,’ she said cheerily to the customer. ‘Au revoir.’
Raff laughed as he carried in a tray of fresh macarons. ‘Listen, it’s understandable that Fifi wants to take some sort of action. I have wondered at times if we should report this whole thing to the police, but I assumed they would probably just dismiss it out of hand because we keep receiving texts from her. She’s not exactly a missing person if she’s staying in touch, is she?’
‘I guess not,’ Sophie sighed. She just wished she understood what was going on. It was so frustrating not knowing what had prompted her mum to leave. Sophie could recall word for word the cryptic message her mum had left and she still couldn’t make any sense of it. Her heart wasn’t happy – whatever that meant.
‘Where is Fifi now?’ Raff asked.
Sophie started refilling the macaron trays. ‘She’s rifling through all the drawers in the house to try and find some sort of clue as to where mum is. I’ve told her that I’ve already done all of that, but she wants to do it herself and I can’t stop her anyway.’
‘No one could stop her,’ Raff commented wryly. ‘She’s a force to be reckoned with, your grandmother.’
‘Indeed.’ Sophie stopped what she was doing and regarded Raff seriously. ‘But I honestly don’t know if I can deal with her while we waiting for mum to return. She’s going to be an absolute nightmare. I can only hold her back from calling the gendarmes for so long.’
Raff started up the coffee machine even though the shop was momentarily empty. ‘Cappuccino? Ok, so maybe Fifi needs a project to distract her for a couple of weeks. What can we task her with? Something in here?’
Sophie looked around the shop. ‘I mean… she’s fairly artistic and creative. She might have some thoughts about the colour scheme or about changing a few things around. It’s worth a try, I suppose.’
‘Well, let’s go with that for now. Or… I could introduce her to my dad and see if they hit it off?’ Raff looked mischievous. ‘You never know…’
Sophie looked horrified. ‘Imagine! Well, actually, I guess it isn’t that weird…’
‘Yes!’ Raff corrected her. ‘It definitely is that weird. But they might get on as they’re both… old.’
‘Who is?’
Fifi appeared behind Raff. She’d clearly come in from the house using the other door, but she’d been extremely quiet, even in her red court shoes. Despite being desperately anxious about her daughter, Fifi was in full make-up, her hair coiffed, and she was wearing a stark but very well-cut black dress that Raff was sure must have an old but well-respected designer label.
‘Oh.’ Raff turned around and hoped to God he wasn’t bright red in the face. ‘Not you, obviously.’
‘Obviously,’ Fifi said, catching his eye with a smirk. ‘Well, I’ve been through all of Mariele’s things and aside from finding a few… unsavoury things I’d rather not have seen’ – she raised an eyebrow, but didn’t elaborate – ‘I haven’t found any clues as to where she might be. Which is very frustrating.’
‘What are those?’ Sophie said, pointing to whatever Fifi was clutching in her hands.
‘Just some photos,’ Fifi shrugged. ‘I don’t know if they mean anything.’ She gave a Gallic shrug. ‘I’m just trying to find something… anything… which might tell us where she is.’ She looked downcast.
Raff put his arm around her tiny shoulders. ‘I know how distressing this is. Sophie’s been really upset – and Eloise too. But try not to worry. If she’s coming home in a few weeks’ time, it should all be ok.’
Fifi nodded.
‘We wondered if you might have some ideas about how to revamp the shop, Grand-mère,’ Sophie said hesitantly.
‘Why?’ Fifi frowned. ‘The shop is beautiful and Mariele likes it this way.’
Raff and Sophie exchanged a glance.
‘Very true,’ Raff said. ‘But Mariele asked us to revise some of the macaron flavours and look at the packaging in her absence. We think she’s happy for us to review and assess everything. You have such flair that we thought you might come up with some ideas with regard to the décor.’
Fifi eyed him beadily as though she knew exactly what Raff was playing at, but she inclined her head. ‘I’ll give it some thought,’ she conceded.
‘Bon.’ Raff poured her a black coffee. ‘And we thought you might want to meet my dad, Henri, too.’
‘What, so we can be… old… together?’ Fifi sniffed her coffee appreciatively and broke into a smile. ‘That smells good.’
‘Not so you can be old together. No… just so…’
Fifi waved a hand. ‘Stop, Raphael. I understand. You think we might have things in common because we’re… old. Is he coming here?’
‘Actually no.’ Raff sipped his own coffee, knowing his thoughts must show on his face. ‘He’s… rather reclusive these days. My mum died a year ago and he’s not been the same since. He… never leaves the house.’
Fifi tutted. ‘Quel dommage! What a shame. Poor man. Mariele did mention that your mother had died, Raphael. I’m so sorry for your loss.’
Raff smiled. ‘Thank you. But anyway, we’ll have to take you to the house so you can meet him.’
‘I will be very happy to do so,’ Fifi said, taking a seat. ‘Where are all the customers?’
Sophie checked her w
atch. ‘Next batch expected any second now. They come in waves.’
The door opened and they all looked up expectantly.
‘Grand-mère!’ Eloise burst through the door. ‘I’m so happy to see you.’
‘Chérie!’ Fifi put her coffee down and held her arms open. They hugged tightly. ‘How are you, mon enfant?’
‘So worried about mum,’ Eloise responded.
‘Me too, me too.’ Fifi patted her shoulder. ‘But hopefully she is home soon, yes?’ She cupped her hands around Eloise’s face. ‘We must be strong, ma petite.’
‘Yes.’ Eloise straightened up and turned to Sophie. ‘So, how are all the new plans going with the shop?’
Sophie talked her through the new designs and Raff’s macarons, and Fifi joined in, telling them to move a few items and remove a few things. She thought they should désencombrer – de-clutter, essentially – and make it classier. Sophie did actually agree and felt that the shop looked fresher and brighter.
‘I also suggest a fresh coat of paint on that woodwork,’ Fifi said, pointing to a shabby area. ‘And I think… perhaps a change of colour on this wall here. Maybe to match your silver swirl pattern. What do you think? I have a contact, someone who could come in and do it. No paint… a high-quality resin to make the shop feel more modern.’
‘Sounds great.’ Raff looked pleased.
‘I would also commission for a new sign above the door,’ Fifi finished. ‘Again, I’m thinking something modern with silver to replicate the traditional look of the magasin.’
Sophie felt concerned. Were they changing too much? ‘Are you sure mum will like that?’ she wondered out loud.
‘I don’t know, but if she were here, she could say so,’ Fifi replied briskly. ‘If she doesn’t like it when she’s back, I’ll have it removed and put everything back to how it is now.’
Sophie shrugged. That was fair enough.
The door opened and Raff’s friend Louis came in. ‘Salut,’ he said. ‘How are you all? And who is this young lady?’ he asked, noticing Fifi.
‘Tsk,’ Fifi said, coquettishly pretending to be offended by the ‘young lady’ comment by holding her hand out to be kissed.
