One Summer in Paris(83)

“Audie!” Etienne took two steps toward her and then stopped, unsure of his reception. “I’m so sorry. I went to get a drink, and when I came back you’d gone.”

“You were ages.”

“I know.” He looked mortified. “I got talking to some friends. I lost track of time.”

Grace gave him marks for honesty.

Knowing that she shouldn’t be listening, she cleared the table, took the breakfast things into the kitchen and closed the door.

A moment later the door opened. Audrey stood there, looking awkward and uncomfortable.

“I’m going back to mine to change, and then Etienne and I are going for a quick walk before he opens up the bookshop.”

Grace suppressed the urge to tell her to be careful. “Have fun. Is your phone charged? Take it with you.”

Audrey hesitated. “Will you be okay? It’s just that we talked about a lot of stuff, and—”

“I’ll be fine.” But she was touched that Audrey would think to ask.

“You’re not upset? What are you going to do today?”

“I don’t know.” And that, she realized, was nowhere near as scary a feeling as she would have thought. An idea came to her. “Why don’t I cover the bookshop this afternoon? Then you and Etienne can spend the afternoon together.”

Audrey shook her head. “You can’t do that.”

“I’d like to. I can carry on sorting through those boxes of books that have been gathering dust for centuries. I enjoy it.”

Audrey swallowed. “You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met. Seriously. I didn’t think people like you existed in real life.”

There was no sign of the prickly, defensive young woman she’d met on her first day in Paris.

Grace gathered her up and hugged her. “You’re going to be fine.”

She felt Audrey’s arms tighten around her. “You’re the best. I’m so glad I met you. And I’m so glad we’re friends.”

“I’m glad we’re friends, too.”

Audrey sniffed and stepped back. “Shit—I mean, darn, you’re making my eyes red.”

Grace nodded. “Mine, too. The difference is that you look great when you cry and I look like an overripe tomato.”

She watched the two of them leave, hand in hand.

Without Audrey, the apartment seemed quiet.

Grace carried her coffee back to the balcony.

Opening up with Audrey had been therapeutic in a way she hadn’t expected. To begin with, she’d done it because she’d wanted to encourage Audrey to talk about her own mother, but in the end she’d been doing it for herself. It had made her feel lighter. Like having a massive clear-out of things you’d been hoarding for far too long. Things that used to fit you but didn’t now. Things you’d never wear in a million years.

It felt like a mental decluttering.

She finished her coffee and checked her emails.

Sophie had messaged her some photos of Sienna, and Mimi had emailed her with more pictures of the garden.

Grace replied to both and stared at the screen for a moment.

Nothing from David. No email. No call. He seemed to have cut her out of his life.

She flipped the lid of her laptop shut and stood up.

She should probably be relieved that he wasn’t in touch. It made it easier to move on.

She locked her apartment and went downstairs to the bookshop. There was something about the still silence that seeped into her. Beyond the walls of the bookshop Paris was in the grip of a heat wave, but the thickness of the walls kept the rooms cool.

The moment she opened up the bell rang, and Toni walked through the door. On Sundays the store only opened for a few hours in the afternoon, but he never missed a day.

Grace was pleased to see him. She liked his old-fashioned manners and the kindness of his smile.

Did he live alone? Was that why he spent so much time in the bookshop? Maybe he was widowed and filling his time.

So much of life was habit, wasn’t it? You got used to living a certain way, with a certain person, and when it ended you had to find a new way. Form new habits.

“I was just about to make a cup of tea,” she said. “Would you join me?”

“If you have the time, I’d like that.”

“Sundays are usually quiet.” Grace stepped into the tiny kitchen at the back and made tea, talking through the open doorway. “I plan to sort through more of the books in the back. There are boxes and boxes. Elodie says that some of them go back decades.”

“On your own? Where is Audrey? She is out with Etienne?”

Toni obviously saw a lot more than he let on.

“Yes.”

“And you’re worried.”

“Crazy, isn’t it?” She set two cups of tea down on the old leather desk that Elodie used for paperwork. “I worry about her as much as I would about my own daughter.”

“You have a daughter?”

“Sophie. She’s eighteen. Traveling in Europe at the moment.”

“So you worry, but you still let her go.”

“You can’t hold on to people.” She’d tried to hold on to David, and that hadn’t worked out, either. “Do you live nearby, Toni?”

He told her where he lived and she did a quick calculation. “It must take you at least half an hour to walk here.”