Lost and Found in Paris

by Lost

  Raff called and Sophie was pleased to hear from him. ‘Good day?’

  ‘Lovely. Tiring, but really lovely.’ Sophie told him about the photograph.

  Raff was intrigued. ‘I wonder who he is. It might be a red herring though, Sophie. Just someone your mum used to know.’

  ‘Yes, maybe.’ Sophie felt a bit deflated. She felt sure the man was significant, but Raff was probably right; he could be anyone and not relevant to her mum’s disappearance.

  ‘I… missed you today,’ Raff said suddenly.

  ‘Yes. I know what you mean.’ Sophie felt herself smiling. ‘Which is silly, isn’t it? I haven’t been here long enough for you to miss me.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘I missed you every day when you left last time, Sophie,’ Raff said quietly. ‘So yes. You have been back long enough for me to miss you when you’re not around.’

  Sophie fell silent.

  ‘I just wanted to say that…’ Raff started to speak then seemed to dry up. ‘It’s… I think I’ve fallen—’

  Sophie cut in. ‘I think I’ve fallen too, actually. So, that’s ok I think.’

  ‘It’s more than ok.’ She could hear the broad grin in Raff’s voice. ‘Let’s leave it there for tonight though. I’ll see you tomorrow, yes?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Sophie ended the call. Where on earth was all this headed?

  Chapter Twenty

  Raff checked the food for the dinner he’d prepared for everyone. He’d made individual cheese souffles, which he suspected might be a little rich for Fifi, so he had prepared her a light salad with asparagus and he would add small slices of a very good, over-ripe goat’s cheese if she would like it. Raff had also made a summery Bouillabaisse with a basil rouille as it was so warm outside, and for dessert, an almond frangipane tart with honeyed pistachios. He had kept the menu very French to please Fifi, who Raff knew had very exacting and traditional tastes, but also for Sophie’s friend, Jo, so she could enjoy a real, French, home-cooked meal.

  ‘What time are they getting here?’ Coco asking, bounding into the kitchen, wearing dungarees and a bright red t-shirt.

  ‘Soon,’ Raff said. He stole a glance at her. He wondered why it didn’t remotely bother him that sometimes Coco looked so much like Estelle, with her dark hair swinging around her shoulders and her long legs on show. But it didn’t, probably because she had many of his characteristics and mannerisms too. He simply thought that Coco was a beautiful girl and that he was lucky to have her, and that he would need to keep a much closer eye on her as she grew older. The thought of boys taking her out made Raff feel sick, and he and Louis had already decided Raff had to be one of those threatening, menacing fathers who would make a boy feel extremely uncomfortable and think twice before daring to lay a finger on Raff’s wonderful girl. He wasn’t sure that was really his vibe, but Louis said as long as Raff put a gun out on display at all times when young men knocked on the door or wielded a knife a lot, that would probably be enough. Raff wasn’t convinced, but he knew he was something he’d have to think about soon. He’d seen a few messages flash up on Coco’s phone from her girlfriends mentioning ‘sexy boys’ at school. Raff shuddered at the thought of his little girl growing up. All he wanted to do was protect her.

  ‘Mm, that smells good. Does everyone like fish?’

  Raff batted her hand away. ‘I don’t know. But I have some leftover Coq au Vin I can warm up if not.’

  ‘What are we having with it… some bread?’ Coco tore off a piece and munched on it.

  ‘Yes, if there is any left, you annoying child. And some new potatoes, buttered with fresh herbs. And a good salad.’

  Coco leant against the worktop. ‘So what’s Sophie’s grandmother like?’

  ‘Terrifying,’ Raff grinned. ‘She’ll probably even scare you.’

  ‘Never,’ Coco said daringly. ‘Who else is coming? There is loads of food here.’

  ‘Sophie’s friend, Jo… she arrived a day early. And I think Sophie’s boss, Pinter and his wife might come over if they get here early enough.’

  ‘Ah for the fancy wedding.’ Coco stole another chunk of bread. ‘And… how is Sophie?’

  ‘Sophie is fine, thank you and stop it,’ Raff warned, shaking his head.

  ‘I’m just happy for you, papa. I really like Sophie. You go so well together… you must be so glad she’s back.’

  Yes, but for how long, Raff thought to himself? He knew his feelings were already out of control and he was pretty sure Sophie felt something too, especially from their last conversation. They had admitted they had fallen for one another and that was a huge thing. But Sophie’s trip here was intended to be a temporary one, so everything was up in the air for now. Raff wondered if the ex-boyfriend was in touch and trying to get her back as well, although he wasn’t sure that was even the issue. At the end of the day, Sophie now lived in England and Raff just wasn’t sure if she would want to uproot her life and move back to Paris. Yet, whenever he was with her, it felt as though it was how life should be.

  ‘I think they might be here,’ Coco said, striding out of the kitchen. ‘Shall I open the door?’

  ‘Yes.’ Raff took a bottle of chilled Chablis out of the fridge.

  Sophie, Jo and Fifi came in. Sophie and Jo looked freshly showered after another day of sightseeing, wearing summer dresses and Converse, and Fifi was resplendent in a pair of tailored, white trousers with a hot pink, silk shirt with flat, shiny, brown brogues rather than her usual heels because ‘her arches were aching’ by all accounts. She wore plenty of heavy costume jewellery around her wrists and throat and a tan scarf around her shoulders, which oddly went well.

  ‘Hey.’ Sophie came up to Raff with a bottle of white wine in her hands. ‘I wasn’t sure what we were eating. Oh, you have a Chablis…’

  ‘I’m sure we’ll need another.’ Raff leant in to kiss her cheek and felt her turn her face. He kissed her on the lips, taking her face in his hands.

  ‘I didn’t realise it was that kind of dinner!’ Jo joked behind them.

  ‘Pardon,’ Raff apologised, stopping. ‘How rude of us.’

  ‘That’s ok,’ Jo said, kissing his cheeks. ‘I understand completely. She’s fab, isn’t she?’

  ‘She is,’ Raff said. ‘Fifi, can I get you a glass of wine?’

  ‘Just a small one,’ she conceded, putting her bag down on a nearby table. ‘And who are you?’ she asked Coco.

  ‘C-Coco,’ Coco stammered. ‘I’m Raff’s daughter.’

  ‘Of course, of course.’ Fifi accepted her wine glass graciously. ‘You are a beautiful young lady. You must be very proud of her, Raff.’

  ‘I am. If a little concerned about her dating boys soon.’

  ‘Papa!’ Coco wailed. ‘Stop.’

  Raff ignored her, turning to Jo. ‘Where have you been today?’

  ‘Everywhere,’ Jo sighed, taking a seat. ‘The Centre Georges Pompidou, Notre-Dame, the Pantheon, the Eiffel Tower, the Champs-Élysées and oh, the Arc de Triomphe. And we had such a busy day yesterday too…’

  ‘That’s a lot of walking,’ Coco said, standing near Sophie.

  ‘I adore the Eiffel Tower,’ Fifi said agreeably. ‘So majestic, oui?’

  ‘Oui, oui,’ Jo nodded rapidly, while Sophie hid a smile. She hadn’t witnessed an intimidated Jo before.

  ‘I do not care much for the Centre Georges Pompidou,’ Fifi informed Jo disdainfully. ‘So modern, so grotesque. Do you care for it?’

  ‘No, I definitely do not care for it,’ Jo replied vehemently, even though she seemed to find it quite fun and funky when she was there.

  Sophie couldn’t help laughing, shaking her head when her grand-mère looked at her, perplexed. ‘Where is Henri?’ she asked Coco in a low voice.

  ‘He’s in his room,’ Coco told her. ‘But he promised he’d be down for dinner.’

  ‘That’s a shame. I thought after his stint in the garden, he might be spending more time down here.’

  Coco no
dded. ‘Me too. He’s better, though. So much better. But it’s going to take him some time. He still misses Grandma and just doesn’t have any purpose in life.’

  ‘That will never do,’ Fifi said, shamelessly eavesdropping. ‘Shall we ask him to join us now?’

  ‘I’ll go,’ Coco said. She disappeared upstairs and returned with Henri in tow.

  ‘What did you say?’ Sophie whispered to Coco as Henri shyly introduced himself to Jo.

  ‘I told her there was a scary lady downstairs who didn’t believe he had the balls to say hello to her.’

  Sophie watched Henri walk over to Fifi.

  ‘It is very nice to meet you,’ Henri said formally, proffering a hand.

  ‘It is very nice to meet you too,’ Fifi said, shaking it. ‘What a lovely house.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ Henri agreed.

  Fifi turned to Raff. ‘Are we eating outside?’

  ‘Er…’ Raff met his dad’s eyes. ‘I wasn’t planning to, no…’

  Henri lifted his chin. ‘It’s fine, Raff. I think that would be nice.’

  ‘Ok…’ Raff looked doubtful, but he asked Coco to grab all the cutlery.

  Soon, it was all hands on deck and they had cleaned and laid the outside table. Coco found some navy linen napkins in the cupboard and she put one next to each set of cutlery.

  ‘We should put some flowers on the table,’ Fifi said, her hands on her hips. ‘What are your favourites, Henri?’

  Henri hesitated. He glanced at Raff, then turned back to Fifi. ‘I-I like roses. They were my wife’s favourite. Yellow.’

  ‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ Fifi said, placing her hand on his arm, squeezing it briefly then removing it. She somehow managed to convey deep sympathy with the brief, brisk gesture. ‘Shall we… go and pick some from the garden?’

  Henri let out a jerky breath. ‘Yes. Yes, we can do that.’

  ‘You’re lucky I have my flat shoes on,’ Fifi said as she led the way outside. ‘Do you have secateurs?’

  Henri disappeared into a nearby shed and handed a pair of secateurs over.

  Raff followed them out, placing wine glasses on the table.

  ‘God, she’s so bossy,’ Sophie asked worriedly, coming up behind him.

  ‘Persuasive,’ Raff corrected. ‘She’s… persuasive.’

  ‘This garden needs tackling,’ Fifi was saying. ‘It is wild and messy. But I think it must have looked beautiful once.’

  Henri nodded. ‘It was,’ he agreed. ‘My wife used to look after it.’

  ‘I see.’ Fifi pointed to a tangle of yellow roses. ‘These are lovely.’ She started snipping at some roses, then passed the secateurs to Henri.

  ‘Flowers are so pleasing,’ Fifi said approvingly. ‘If you’d like to get the garden back to how it was, I have some friends I could introduce you to… Victor and Ruben. And also Margaux. They could come over and help you.’

  Henri started to smile. ‘That’s… that’s very thoughtful of you.’

  Raff felt a lump in his throat as he watched them. He wasn’t sure his dad could handle being outside so much, but maybe it was the perfect thing for him.

  ‘That’s so sweet,’ Sophie said. ‘I have honestly never seen my grandmother being so… tender with anyone.’

  ‘She’s very kind.’ Raff couldn’t even describe how seeing his father outside having a conversation with someone else besides him and Coco was making him feel, let alone anything else his father might now achieve. ‘I’d better get the food on the table.’

  ‘I’ll help,’ said Sophie. Together, they got the cheese souffles cooked and on the table.

  ‘Oh, that looks lovely, but rather rich,’ Fifi began, smoothing a hand along her tiny waistline.

  Raff placed the asparagus salad in front of her. ‘I made you this, just in case.’

  ‘What a good boy,’ Fifi said, giving him a dazzling smile. ‘I do like a man who knows that a woman’s appetite can be delicate.’

  Jo paused with an enormous spoonful of Raff’s delectable cheese souffle halfway to her mouth. ‘Oh. I mean… my appetite is—’

  ‘Not delicate at all,’ Sophie grinned. ‘And neither is mine.’ She tucked in with gusto. ‘This is fantastic, Raff.’

  ‘Thanks.’ He stood up. ‘Enjoy and I’ll get the Bouillabaisse finished.’

  The doorbell rang at that point and Raff answered the door. A man with sleek, silver hair and a sharp suit stood there with a magnum of champagne, next to a stunning woman with a mass of wavy blond hair, a deep tan and legs up to her armpits. She was wearing the most fabulous orange leather trench coat that made her long legs look even browner with gold gladiator sandals that were laced up her calves.

  ‘Pinter?’ Raff guessed.

  ‘Raff, I assume?’ Not bothering to attempt speaking French in any form, Pinter held his arms out. ‘I am so happy to meet you.’ He hugged Raff tightly before releasing him and pressing the champagne into his hands. He turned to the woman. ‘This is Esther, my wife. I know, I know. I’m punching, but for some reason, she adores me.’

  ‘Punching?’ Raff was baffled. ‘I’m very happy to meet you.’ He kissed both her cheeks and stood aside to let them both in. ‘We’re in the garden and you’re just in time for Bouillabaisse.’

  ‘Oooh I love that. Fish stew, right?’ Esther shrugged her arms out of her leather coat and hung it carefully over a chair. She was wearing a flimsy, black smock dress that hung off one shoulder. ‘What a gorgeous place, Raff! Really, it’s lovely. We’ve just checked into the Shangri-La Hotel.’ She let out a mock-gasp, ‘which is off the charts, but Pinter, we really should get a house in Paris.’

  Pinter rolled his eyes. ‘Oh dear. Here she goes. This woman bankrupts me daily, Raff. I can’t even tell you. If she had her way, we’d have places in Morocco, L.A., New York, Singapore…’

  ‘Not Morocco, darling,’ Esther said, flashing a set of perfect white teeth. ‘It wasn’t really my bag.’

  ‘Sophie!’ Pinter held his arms out again. ‘I’ve missed you, my little apprentice.’ He squeezed her.

  ‘Oh, I’ve missed you too.’ Sophie caught sight of Esther. ‘Look at you! Where on earth did you get that tan… you look amazing.’ They air-kissed.

  ‘Fiji,’ Esther said airily. ‘Bikini shoot. Terribly long flight. And the food made my IBS flare up and I had a dodgy bum.’

  ‘Sounds dreadful,’ Sophie said, giggling as she caught Raff’s eye.

  ‘I’m definitely going to help you with dinner,’ Pinter told Raff firmly,’ because I am the best cook.’

  He’s not, Sophie mouthed at Raff.

  ‘As soon as I have said hello to these delightful people in the garden,’ Pinter continued, suavely moving outside. Esther followed him. ‘Hello, hello! Sorry to barge in. Jo, Henri, very nice to meet you. Enchanté, yes? And who is this fantastic woman? Fifi, I can’t tell you how happy I am to meet you. What fabulous shoes! Esther, come and look at this stunning example of French chic.’

  ‘I’m right behind you, Pinter, you idiot,’ Esther told him, swatting him on the arm.

  Sophie nudged Raff as even Fifi started simpering in the face of Pinter’s smooth feel-good charm and together they got the Bouillabaisse on the table.

  ‘Wonderful,’ Pinter said, diving into his bowl with some French bread. ‘You must give me the recipe.’

  ‘Don’t bother,’ Esther said, smiling broadly. ‘He can’t cook and he doesn’t actually know where the kitchen is.’

  Pinter shrugged good-naturedly. ‘It’s true, it’s true. But Esther barely eats anyway and I only have to look at a cake to put on weight.’ He regarded Fifi seriously. ‘Honestly, inside this powerhouse of a perfect body, I am actually a fat little schoolboy.’

  Fifi looked amused and confused at the same time.

  ‘That’s also true,’ Esther laughed, giving him a kiss. ‘Maybe we shouldn’t get a place in Paris, Pints. You’d devour all the butter known to man.’

  Pinter pulled a shocked face, then started lau
ghing because he couldn’t pretend for that long. ‘Guilty,’ he said, holding his hands in the air.

  ‘You won’t want a slice of almond frangipane with honeyed pistachios then,’ Raff asked innocently.

  ‘I will want all the slices,’ Pinter said, meaning it. He guffawed and turned to Sophie as Raff disappeared indoor. ‘Oh, I like him, Sophie. He’s really great. He’s a good guy but he looks like a bad guy. Handsome. But he’s one of the best, I think.’

  Sophie nodded. ‘I know.’

  ‘Is he the reason you left in the first place?’ Pinter asked astutely.

  ‘Yes,’ Sophie replied, not seeing any point in lying about it now.

  ‘Ok.’ Pinter squeezed her shoulder. ‘You need to tell me about this another time please.’

  Sophie nodded.

  ‘Because that man is very much in love with you. And you look just as besotted.’

  Sophie bit her lip.

  ‘But anyway, your mum is due home soon and that’s amazing news,’ Pinter said loudly as Raff returned with the frangipane tart.

  Pinter gasped. ‘Look at that. I’m in serious trouble now…’

  As Raff started to cut into the tart, the doorbell rang again. He frowned.

  ‘I’ll go,’ Coco offered, getting up. She opened the door and there was a pause.

  ‘Maman,’ she said quietly.

  Raff’s head snapped up. Estelle. No way.

  Henri looked up, his expression distasteful.

  ‘Raff!’ Estelle wafted in wearing tight black jeans, an emerald-green shirt knotted at her waist and some spike-heeled black sandals. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything…’

  Sophie swallowed. Estelle. Raff’s ex. The woman who had turned up out of the blue all those years ago. With Coco in tow. The woman who had turned Sophie’s life upside down, making her doubt everything and convinced her that she had to flee Paris, leaving Raff behind. The woman who had told her lies about Raff and made Sophie believe he was something he wasn’t.

  Sophie felt panicked. She wanted to run. She didn’t want to overreact, but this was Estelle. Back again, in Raff’s house.