by Lost
‘Sophie Marchant.’ Estelle paused at the table. ‘I didn’t know you were back in Paris.’
‘Just… just for a while,’ Sophie managed. She felt a bit short of breath. Was she overreacting? She felt so threatened by this woman.
Raff shot a glance at her.
Seeing Sophie’s distress, Pinter jumped to his feet. ‘My name is Pinter,’ he announced. ‘I’m Sophie’s friend and sort of her boss. And you are…?’
‘I’m Estelle,’ Estelle said, flicking her long, dark hair over her shoulder. ‘I’m Coco’s mother.’
Coco wrapped her arms around her body, suddenly looking vulnerable and childlike.
‘A text would have been helpful,’ Raff said.
‘We’ve been texting a lot, as you know,’ Estelle said, touching his arm. ‘Just not today…’
Sophie looked at Raff, feeling her stomach tighten. Why hadn’t he mentioned Estelle getting in touch? She felt nauseous suddenly, as though her Bouillabaisse might make a reappearance. It felt as though history was repeating itself somehow. But Sophie didn’t want that to happen.
Raff looked at Sophie anxiously. Why hadn’t he told her about Estelle getting in touch? And possibly turning up? Now he looked like a liar and he looked shady and he could see that Sophie looked upset. Rightly so.
God, what an idiot he’d been! He had been so desperate to put Estelle off of her visit and to protect Coco and Sophie from it, he’d made it worse. He stared at Estelle. Why had she announced to everyone that they had been texting? She must have done it on purpose. Raff fumed inwardly. Like he said, everywhere Estelle went, drama followed. It was the main reason Raff couldn’t be around her long term. It was just too exhausting. And he hadn’t helped himself by not mentioning to Sophie that Estelle might turn up… that she had been texting.
Fifi was fixing Estelle with a chilly stare and Sophie was surprised Estelle hadn’t turned to ice on the spot.
Raff felt compelled to defend himself on the texting front, even though he knew it was potentially too late. ‘Actually, you’ve been texting me a lot and I texted you back twice telling you it wasn’t a good time for a visit,’ he said tightly.
Estelle shrugged and helped herself to a glass of wine. ‘I think you’ve sent a few more texts than that, Raff!’ She let out a throaty chuckle.
Fifi made a disapproving noise and pursed her lips primly. Jo was gaping like a goldfish and she pulled a ‘what a bitch!’ face at Sophie.
Frustrated, Raff looked away from Estelle deliberately and turned back to Sophie. He genuinely didn’t care what Estelle did anymore. He only cared about Sophie. He shook his head at her to try and make her understand that this wasn’t what it seemed.
‘Well, isn’t this lovely,’ Pinter said, sitting down and putting his arm firmly around Sophie’s shoulders. Esther gave her a supportive smile from the opposite side of the table too.
Sophie felt immensely grateful for Pinter’s overt loyalty. She also felt like slapping Raff. Why was it always so complicated with him?
‘I think it’s time we left,’ Fifi said in an imperious voice.
Sophie got up. ‘Yes.’ She squeezed Pinter’s arm to thank him for his support.
‘Don’t leave on my account,’ Estelle said innocently, throwing herself into an empty chair.
Sophie gave her as lovely a smile as she could muster in the circumstances. ‘I’m not. It’s just late and I need to get my friend and grandmother home.’
‘Well, it’s lovely to see you again, Sophie.’ Estelle smiled and sipped her wine languorously.
Jo and Fifi got to their feet and started to gather their things. Esther sighed and valiantly started to engage Estelle in ‘model’ chat, throwing Pinter a meaningful glance as if to say that he owed her for taking one for the team. He inclined his head and followed Sophie out into the hallway.
‘Thank you for dinner,’ Sophie was saying to Raff formally. God. Perhaps she should shake his hand as well. She turned to Coco and hugged her.
‘Are you ok?’ she whispered.
‘I don’t know,’ Coco whispered back. ‘Are you?’
‘I don’t know,’ Sophie whispered back. She let go of Coco who gave her a watery smile and hesitated before reluctantly heading back towards the garden.
Sophie felt a warm hand on her arm.
It was Raff. ‘Sophie, it’s not… I’m so…’
Sophie shook her head, not remotely in the mood to discuss anything. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow at the shop.’
‘Ok.’ Raff felt totally deflated, but he understood. He hugged Jo goodbye and politely kissed Fifi’s powdered cheeks. As he closed the door behind them, Raff heard Pinter behind him and turned with a rueful expression.
‘Merde,’ he said.
‘Merde indeed,’ Pinter agreed heartily, giving him a sympathetic smile.
‘She hates me.’
‘She thinks she has reason to.’
Raff raked a hand through his hair. ‘I’m an idiot.’
‘You are. But only for not mentioning the texts. Men – we’re so stupid with things like that. However, I don’t think you’re a bad guy.’ Pinter considered him. ‘And I don’t think you’re remotely interested in that troublemaking minx sitting in your garden.’
Raff wasn’t sure what a ‘minx’ was, but he got Pinter’s drift. ‘I couldn’t be any less interested in her. She’s just Coco’s mum and she’s a nightmare every time she turns up. Coco goes off the rails a bit… I wanted to protect Sophie too.’ He rubbed his chin worriedly. ‘It was her arriving out of the blue with Coco all those years ago that sent Sophie spiralling last time. We were just getting things back on track…’
Pinter nodded gravely. ‘Yes, I can see that. I know her very well because I’ve worked with her for years and we’re good friends. I’ve never seen Sophie like this before. Never. I think she loves you very much.’
‘You do?’ Raff lifted his eyes hopefully. ‘I don’t know… this ex of hers…’
‘Ryan?’ Pinter scoffed. ‘You don’t need to worry about him! He’s an absolute woopsie.’ He saw Raff’s puzzled expression and followed up. ‘Oh, I see. Right. He’s a… wet blanket. Oh God. He’s… look, just don’t worry about him. He’s not right for her. I think he makes her feel safe and all of that, but at the end of the day, he still let her down. I can’t see her ever going back with him.’
Raff sighed. ‘Ok. I trust you. I don’t know why, but I do.’
‘You should.’ Pinter grinned then his expression became sober. ‘Because I think you’re right for her.’
‘How? Why?’ Raff cringed. Sacré bleu. He was asking for reassurance from a man he had only just met.
‘She left Paris because of how deeply she felt about you,’ Pinter pointed out reasonably, unruffled by Raff’s obvious need for validation. ‘She stayed away from Paris because of how she felt about you. And she came back to find her mum, but in the meantime, she found you again. And I think you’ve both been lost since you… lost each other. Am I making any sense?’
‘More than you know,’ Raff told him.
‘So.’ Pinter clasped his hands together. ‘The issue we have now is this. Well, we have two issues.’ He counted them on his fingers. ‘One, we need to get Mariele back and find out what’s been going on there. And two… two… we need to get you two back together.’
‘I really, really like you,’ Raff said, breaking into a smile.
‘Everyone likes me,’ Pinter said affably, slinging his arm around Raff’s shoulders. ‘It’s a thing. And I really like you too. Now. Let’s go and rescue my darling wife from the claws of that messed up femme fatale out there and as for Sophie… well, you’re just going to have to leave her to me.’
Raff sighed. ‘I think you’re probably the best chance I have.’
Pinter patted his shoulder. ‘That’s right, young Raphael. I’m your guardian fricking angel and you’re just going to have to let me do my thing.’
Raff didn’t think he had much choice, bu
t he felt strangely comforted. Both by Pinter’s firm grip on his shoulder and by his endearing overconfidence. Because right now, it was all Raff had.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘Are you sure you’re ok?’ Jo said for the sixth time.
‘Yes,’ Sophie said firmly. For the sixth time. They were sitting in the kitchen at the house, nibbling on croissants. ‘What else can I say to convince you?’
‘I don’t know.’ Jo looked unsettled. She put her croissant down. ‘God, those almond ones are just divine. I mean that… it’s just so annoying because we had such a lovely weekend together – it was literally perfect – and then Estelle turned up and it all feels really… weird.’
Sophie sipped her coffee. Jo wasn’t wrong. That wonderful feeling she’d had about Raff seemed oddly tainted now. It had felt pure and as though it was just the two of them falling again and now Sophie realised that Estelle had been lurking in the background the whole time, and she felt like such a strong… damaging presence.
‘I detest women like that,’ Fifi said, joining them at the table. She was wearing the same, stark black dress she had been wearing the other day, but with smart, patent beige pumps and a beige and red scarf knotted at her neck. ‘The Estelles of this world just want to cause trouble. She probably doesn’t even want Raff back.’
Sophie frowned. She wasn’t so sure about that. Estelle had come back for a reason. She didn’t know what it was, but she didn’t think it was a coincidence that Estelle had turned up at such a crucial time. And for what other reason could she be here unless it was to do with Raff? She poured her grandmother a coffee.
‘Thank you.’ Fifi didn’t sip it yet; she preferred her coffee tepid. ‘Mark my words, Sophie. Estelle wants drama. Do not give it to her.’
‘She’s right,’ Jo agreed. ‘We all know women like that, Soph. Don’t let her ruin things.’
‘Exactly,’ Fifi said, attempting to drink her coffee then thinking better of it.
Jo preened herself at being on the same page as the woman she was terrified of.
‘It’s just him not saying anything about those texts,’ Sophie mused. ‘It just looks shady, doesn’t it? Even if it isn’t.’
‘There could be any number of reasons for that,’ Fifi dismissed. ‘Speak to Raff and see what he has to say for himself. Men can be so silly, ma chérie. Silliness doesn’t make him a liar. I suspect he was hoping she wouldn’t turn up at all. Perhaps she promises to come and doesn’t.’
Sophie nodded. That made sense.
‘And he may not have wanted to – how do you say it? – “Rock the boat”, when things were going so well between you two. Because they are going well, oui?’
‘Oui.’ Sophie shrugged. She wasn’t sure what was going on now. Raff had sent a few texts last night apologising, but Sophie just felt as though she didn’t trust him at the moment.
‘Right.’ Jo stood up. ‘I have to go, otherwise I’ll miss my flight. I’m all packed and ready; my bags are by the door.’
‘I’m going to miss you so much. You’re leaving at such a bad time,’ Sophie said, pulling a sad face. ‘I think that’s your taxi outside.’
‘I know. But I’m needed in the office tomorrow… three big properties coming up for sale.’ Jo also pulled a sad face. ‘I hate leaving my bestie at a time like this.’
‘Goodbye,’ Fifi said, getting up and placing her hands upon Jo’s shoulders. She kissed both of her cheeks. ‘It was lovely to meet you. Stop being so scared of things.’
‘Erm… I’m not scared of “things”,’ Jo admitted. ‘Just… you.’
Fifi beamed. ‘Oh I love it when people are scared of me. I’m just a pussycat underneath, I can assure you.’
‘She’s really not,’ Sophie said under her breath as she showed Jo to the door.
‘I know,’ Jo said fervently. She hugged Sophie. ‘Listen. I don’t think Raff meant anything by not telling you about Estelle. I think he was trying to protect you. Don’t lose this all over again over something so silly.’
‘I don’t know.’ Sophie shrugged. ‘It just feels crap and I need to be able to trust him, you know?’
‘I think you can. Don’t lose him again, Soph.’ Jo grabbed her bags. ‘He’s too gorgeous. Inside and out. Stay in touch – I want an hour by hour account.’
Sophie saw Jo into her taxi and waved her off. She was due to work in the shop now, but she felt really awkward towards Raff after last night. Wandering back through the house, she found Fifi tidying the sitting room.
‘Are you alright, ma chérie?’
‘I’m ok.’ Sophie threw herself onto a sofa. ‘I just want mum to come home. I want to know where she’s been and if she’s ok.’
‘Me too,’ Fifi said, efficiently plumping the cushions around her. ‘She has given us a date and we are going to get the shop ready for her arrival.’ She straightened up. ‘How about we have a little reopening to unveil all the changes?’
Sophie nodded. ‘Sounds good.’
‘Let’s go and speak to Raff about it.’ Fifi held her hand out and pulled Sophie up. ‘And then we can clear the air between you two.’
‘You can’t just fix everything, Grand-mère,’ Sophie grumbled. ‘Just because you managed to get Henri outside, it doesn’t mean you can fix everything.’
Fifi put her chin in the air. ‘I don’t see why not. But thank you for reminding me. I’ll get in touch with Ruben and he and I can go over there and tackle that garden. I mean, not me personally, you understand, but still.’
‘Of course not you personally, Grand-mère. Not unless Chanel do gardening gloves.’
‘I’ve never looked,’ Fifi said with a mischievous smile, ‘but I like the idea. Henri is a lovely man. I know it’s a way off yet, but my friend Margaux is single and I think she could be perfect for Henri…’
‘Grand-mère! You can’t interfere in people’s lives like that.’
Fifi looked hurt. ‘I’m not interfering. I’m matchmaking. It’s different.’ She led the way into the macaron shop. It was extremely busy, but Raff had the girl who covered for them working with him as well.
‘Raff. A moment?’ Fifi smiled brightly.
Raff looked up and caught Sophie’s eye. He put down what he was doing and came over.
‘Hey.’
‘Hey,’ she said back. He looked tired, as though he hadn’t slept all night and she felt bad for him. And then she wondered if he had been up all night with Estelle and felt furious and not remotely compassionate.
Sophie caught herself. She wasn’t sure if she was losing the plot about Estelle or not.
Fifi cut in quickly. ‘I was thinking… how about we have a little launch for the shop?’
‘A launch?’ Raff frowned.
‘Yes. The shop is closing tomorrow for a few days so that all the paintwork and internal changes can take place,’ Fifi pointed out, ‘and to get the new sign up. We could put covers over the shop and heavily advertise the reopening. A party to celebrate the new and improved “Mariele’s Macarons”. My treat, of course.’
Raff shrugged. ‘That sounds like a lovely idea. Can we get it organised in time?’
‘I can,’ Fifi said confidently. ‘I’ll treat it as a little project and I’ve got excellent contacts.’
‘What do you think, Sophie?’ Raff turned to Sophie.
‘Same as you,’ she said non-committally, avoiding his eyes. ‘It sounds like a lovely idea. I’m not sure what’s needed and I’m going to be tied up with the wedding tomorrow, but I’m happy to help aside from that.’
Fifi watched both of them beadily. ‘Good. That’s decided then. We’ll have a relaunch on Saturday. We’ll text Mariele and let her know, and maybe she can time her arrival with that.’
Sophie caught her breath. She wasn’t convinced her mum was going to be back at the weekend. She didn’t know why, but it didn’t seem to ring true for some reason. Yesterday she had tried to find the photo of the man with the inscription on the back and couldn’t, so had d
ecided that maybe it was just someone her mum used to know, but that he was nothing to do with her disappearance. But the likelihood of her turning up for the reopening of the shop? It was a dream Sophie couldn’t allow herself to focus upon. She didn’t dare.
Her phone beeped and she checked it. It was Pinter asking to meet her.
‘I’d better go,’ she said. ‘Pinter wants to see me about wedding stuff.’
Raff suddenly looked upbeat for some reason. ‘Ok. I’ll take care of things here. The new bags have arrived, but I can show you another time.’
‘Right.’
Fifi let out an audible sigh. ‘You two…’ she said. ‘Ok, bon. Sophie, you go and do the wedding stuff; Raff, you run the shop. I’ll arrange for caterers and balloons and make sure all the work is done here. And I’ll get my friend Ruben over to your house to help Henri with the garden.’
‘I’ll text mum about the opening. And Eloise,’ Sophie added.
‘Wonderful.’ Fifi clapped her hands. ‘Let’s go!’
Raff stared at Sophie and Sophie stared at Raff. And then they went their separate ways.
* * *
‘So. How are you feeling?’ Pinter asked.
Sophie raised an eyebrow. ‘How do you think?’
‘I would imagine… not great.’ Pinter poured out two glasses of a crisp Sancerre. ‘And I wish you could teach me to do that one eyebrow thing.’
‘It’s a gift.’
Pinter rolled his eyes.
They were sitting in a picturesque bar in one of the famous cobbled streets of Montmartre. They were on a slight slope and the cafe was drenched in sunshine. The magnificent Sacre-Coeur sat to the side of them, looking even brighter in the brilliant sunshine. It was a phenomenal view and tourists bustled past them, chattering and taking photos. Even though Montmartre was set on a hill and away from the heart of Paris, it still felt as though they were right in the thick of things.
‘Where’s Esther?’
‘Primping herself in earnest of course,’ Pinter said. ‘Anyone would think it was Esther who was getting married, honestly. Do you remember our wedding, Soph?’
