The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper(55)

“For you, monsieur?”

Arthur stared blankly.

“A coffee, perhaps? Something to eat?”

“A coffee, yes. Just the ticket.” He turned to Lucy. “Do you want lunch?”

She patted her stomach. “I’ve already had two chocolate croissants, so I’ll give it a miss. The French onion soup looks delicious, though. I’ve seen a few bowls go by.”

“Then that’s what I’ll have.”

The waiter nodded.

Arthur put his napkin on his lap. “Sylvie confirmed that she bought and sent the thimble as a wedding gift. Your mother lived here for a while.”

“How interesting that she lived in Paris but didn’t tell us about it. Do you have any idea why not?”

Arthur shook his head. “But I now know the story behind another charm.”

Their drinks and Arthur’s soup arrived minutes later. He peered into the brown earthenware bowl. The soup had a thick Gruyère crouton on top. “I think that waiter likes you,” he said as he blew on his spoon. “I saw him watching you as I crossed the road.”

“He just wants me to leave a big tip.” Lucy blushed.

“That is probably not the case.”

“I’m not sure why else he would be looking at me.”

Arthur lifted his eyes. His daughter looked so pretty, with her pinkened collarbone and freckles. It was as though a veil had been lifted from her face, taking her strain and upset with it. He wondered for a moment if he should tell her as much, but he couldn’t form the right words. Instead, he looked back into his bowl. “This soup really is fine,” he said. “I don’t know how they get the onions to go so soft.”

They sat in silence while he finished. Lucy picked up a newspaper left behind by an old man with a black poodle from the table beside them and browsed through it.

Arthur tilted his bowl to ensure he got the very last spoonful of soup. The warmness in his belly and the sun streaking through the trees made him feel calm and relaxed. His shoulders didn’t feel as tight. Being here with Lucy had given him time to reflect on the past couple of weeks. He looked back over to the boutique. “You know, through my travels and meeting people who were part of Miriam’s life, I’m learning that it’s the things you say and do that people remember you for. She is no longer here but she lives on in people’s hearts and minds.”

“That’s a nice thought.”

“I’m not sure if anyone will remember me so kindly.”

“Don’t be silly, Dad.”

“I’m not being. The more I find out about your mother’s remarkable life before me, the more it emphasizes that I’ve never done anything adventurous, or traveled, or met anyone that I might have had an impact on...”

“But you are doing that now. It’s not too late.”

Arthur hitched his shoulders.

Lucy shook her head. “You’re feeling emotional, Dad. It’s bound to be the case. It’s been a long journey here and you’re hearing stories about Mum that you’ve never heard before. But, I assure you, you will always be part of my life. You’ll always be special to me.”

Arthur gave a small nod, grateful for her sensible words. “Thanks.” He felt he should say something in return. He wanted to tell Lucy how he loved her from the minute she was born. He had listened to Miriam say it over and over again with such ease. But the words had never come easily to him. When Lucy was a child and asleep, then he could kiss her forehead and whisper, “I love you,” but here, in public, in a café, well, he couldn’t respond. “I, er...well. Ditto.”

“Oh, Dad.”

He felt Lucy suddenly wrap her arms around his neck “Are you okay? Whatever’s the matter?”

Lucy sniffed. “I just miss Mum, that’s all. It would be lovely if she was here with us.”

“I know.” He patted her back not knowing what to say that could change things.

Lucy broke away first. She felt around in her bag for a tissue.

“Madame?” The waiter appeared at her side. He raised one of his eyebrows. “Are you okay?” He shot a glance at Arthur as if accusing him of upsetting his young companion.

“Yes. I am fine. This is my father. We are happy.”

“You are ’appy?”

“Yes. Very. Thank you for asking. I just need a tissue,” Lucy said.

The waiter vanished and then slid a box of tissues onto the table. “For you.”

“Merci. You are very kind.”

“Claude,” the waiter said. “My name is Claude.”

“This is my treat,” Lucy insisted when she had dabbed her eyes and blown her nose. “It’s my money to spend on what I want. Remember?”

“Yes, darling.” Arthur smiled, making out that he was henpecked.

He went to the bathroom and when he came out saw that Claude was talking to his daughter. The waiter had a tray tucked under his arm and Lucy was smiling and twirling a strand of hair in her hand. Arthur bent down to retie his shoelaces and, when he saw they were still chatting, he checked how many euros he had in his wallet. When Claude moved away from the table, Arthur walked back. “Okay?” he asked.

“Yes. Good,” Lucy said. Her cheeks were flushed.