The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper(54)

“I am trying to find out the stories behind this charm and the others, madame.”

“Madame. Tsk. You must call me Sylvie. You are asking me the stories, but can Miriam herself not tell you?” Her voice raised an octave with anticipation. “Is she here with you? It has been too many years.”

Arthur lowered his eyes. “I’m afraid she passed away, a year ago.”

“Ah, non! I am so very sorry, Arthur. C’est terrible. Many times I thought of her over the years. Many times I said that I must find her and get in touch. But then I am so busy with the shop and something else would pop into my head other than Miriam. But there are always some people that you keep in your heart, yes? That you never forget.”

“How did you know each other?”

“We met through a man. He was named Fran?ois.”

“De Chauffant?”

“Yes. You know of him?”

“A little.”

“I was one of his girlfriends when Miriam worked for him. He did not treat either of us well. When I came to my senses and decided to return to Paris I suggested to Miriam that she join me. So we escaped together! We had no plan, no money. It was an adventure.” She hesitated. “What happened to her...?”

“She died from pneumonia. It was a huge shock.”

Sylvie shook her head. “She was a good person. When we met I spoke only a little English and she spoke only a little French, but we connected. Did you know that she helped me to set up this shop? I had always wanted to own a little wedding boutique. Me and Miriam used to sit on the benches at the side of the Seine and feed the swans with seed and bread. We talked about our dreams, or rather I did. I was always, how do you say it? A dreamer?”

Arthur nodded.

“One day we walked past a wholesaler’s shop. It was closing down. They were selling off the wedding dresses very cheaply, by the box. A van was parked on the road and two men were carrying the boxes and putting them in the back. We stood and watched. When it drove off one of the men, the owner, noticed that we were interested and asked if we would like to buy the rest of the dresses. Miriam did not understand much of what he was saying so I translated. The dresses were a good price but not cheap enough for me. I was very poor, surviving only on bread and cheese. But Miriam told me not to take no for an answer. She told me what to say to the man and I did as she said. I said that I was a young woman looking for an opportunity to sell wedding dresses, that he could help to change my life. Together, we charmed him.

“In the end I bought twenty dresses for half of what the man asked originally. So, now I had all these dresses and nowhere to sell them. I had no shop and my apartment was on the third floor over a launderette. Miriam shook her head and said, ‘Of course we have somewhere!’ We hung them from a blossom tree and sold them in the street. They looked beautiful hanging there in the sunshine like exotic birds. There were many chic ladies passing by and, even if they weren’t getting married themselves, they told their friends. Word was passed on from lady to lady. At the end of the day there were only two dresses left. That is how my business started. Or I could say bloomed. We went back to the wholesaler and bought another box and did the same thing for the next three days. When we had finished I had enough money to put down three month’s rent on this shop. Over the years the shop has grown. I have extended. I create my own dresses now, but it all started with me and your wife hanging twenty dresses from a tree.”

“That’s a lovely story.” Arthur hadn’t heard it before but he could picture Miriam and Sylvie as young women laughing and climbing in the blossom tree.

“When she traveled back to England, we wrote to each other for a while. I had the shop and then Miriam had her children. Time moves so quickly.”

As she spoke, memories began to develop in Arthur’s head. Miriam had mentioned a friend who owned a dress shop. He couldn’t recall her saying if it was in France or not. So, she hadn’t kept this part of her life secret. Occasionally she would use a French word—pourquoi or merci. Now he cursed himself for not paying more attention. It had been difficult to concentrate on anything other than his tea when he got in from work. When the kids were in bed, he had enjoyed time with his wife. They chatted about their day rather than about their past. He wished he had taken more of an interest.

“You must join me for a glass of champagne and a little something to eat in Miriam’s memory,” Sylvie said. “I will tell you more about how we met and what fun we had. We only knew each other for a few months, but they are memories that last forever. And you can tell me, too. Tell me about your life together and your children. I want to know more about my friend.”

*

It was over an hour later that Arthur went to meet Lucy at the coffee shop.

“I thought that you might be staying in there for the day.” She laughed.

He looked at his watch. “Gosh, I didn’t realize I’d been so long. Have you been here all this time?”

“I’ve loved it. Anthony would only ever go to Starbucks!”

“Madame?” A waiter appeared before them. He wore black trousers and shirt and had a white-and-blue-striped apron tied casually around his waist. His nose had a slight hump, which made him look like he should be in a 1920s silent movie.

“I’d like another café crème, please,” Lucy said.