The Last Dress from Paris(25)
“Be my guest.” He nods his approval.
I let my fingers gently crawl up under the paper, acutely aware that I’m the first person to touch it in decades, lifting the paper away from the shoulders of the gown. The jet-black velvet under my fingers is butter soft, and I immediately sense the thrill of having something so lavish next to my skin. It’s incredibly glamorous and yet sublimely understated all at once.
“Did your grandfather tell you anything else about this dress? How it was made? What it might have been worn for?”
“He did, actually. It would have been owned by someone of significant wealth. Because of the way it’s constructed, it’s impossible to get it on yourself. Something about separate pieces and lots of zippers? Basically, you need someone to help you get in and out of it. The square neckline would have been quite daring at the time, he said. It’s cut very low, and it’s only the velvet bow that is keeping it modest.”
If there was any doubt, now I know for sure this dress was never made for my Granny Sylvie.
“It was named after a fashionable Parisian café of the time.”
I lift the wool skirt of the dress, feeling its weight, knowing exactly what I am looking for, and start to feel my way around the silk petticoat underneath until my fingers settle on a label. I turn it over and there they are, the embroidered initials I am hoping to find: A&A.
“It’s the dress,” I declare. “It’s initialed, just like the others in her collection.”
I hear him sigh loudly behind me, but it’s one of relief and not irritation this time.
“So, there are more dresses?”
“Yes, this is number three. There are eight that belonged to my grandmother that she has asked me to return to her, but one other is also missing.” Even as I’m saying it, I know I’m going to have to find that one too. “It seems there might be more to my trip to Paris than I originally thought. My grandmother sent me to collect the Maxim’s, knowing it was not where she told me it would be.”
“Okay, well, my grandfather never mentioned any initials or any other dresses that were brought in by the same woman, but I could ask him, just in case he knows anything more—although I’m pretty sure he would have mentioned it.”
“Any help would be wonderful, thank you.” I do a bit of a dramatic eye to the skies, but only because I hope it will make him take pity on me, see the difficulty of my task, and maybe offer to help. “My mum is so busy with work and, to be honest, the two of them are not particularly close, so a lot of what my grandmother needs falls to me—although her requests are not usually as elaborate as this one!”
He smiles like he completely understands my predicament. That while I never asked to be sent on this mission, I can’t refuse it. I can’t let Granny down.
“I get it. There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for my grandfather either. I may not always understand his motives, but as long as he needs my help, then he’ll get it. Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?” I sense the slightest hint of an offer of assistance coming my way and seize on it.
“Not really. But every dress has a handwritten note. The one for the Maxim’s said ‘I need you as much as you need me.’ Whoever owned the dress at the time wore it to meet someone in the church in Saint-Germain-des-Prés.”
It works. His eyes light up, just as I know mine did at Veronique’s on Friday night.
“Wow. You can sense the longing in every word.” I can’t help being a little impressed that he’s happy to admit that to me.
“I know. And things only get more intense from there. So, that’s where I’m heading next, the church. I’m starting at the beginning. The plan is to visit each of the locations, in date order, and hopefully all of this will start to make some sense. I’m hoping a story will emerge that I can take back to my grandmother.”
He looks seriously intrigued now. “Look, it’s a very famous church but a fair way from here, the other side of the river. Do you know where you are going?”
I do, but I’m not going to tell him that. This is what I was hoping for. A local, and quite a handsome one at that, to take all the hassle out of the logistics for me.
“No, not really.” I poke around in my handbag as if looking for a map or guidebook I know isn’t there, while he peers back out into the shop, perhaps reminding himself that the doorbell hasn’t rung once since I entered.
“I’m sort of heading that way. Well, I was going to drop into the Pompidou, that’s where my real job is. I work as a photographer there.” Okay, that explains the oversize necklace. “But I could take you to the church first, if you like, just to make sure you find it okay? My grandfather did insist I help you. If he was in the shop today, he would have accompanied you himself, so I feel a little obliged. Besides, it will be a great story to tell him.”
“Yes please!” I’m not even trying to sound surprised or cool about it.
He’s already pulling his coat on as I glance back nervously at the Maxim’s, wondering how much it might cost today and how on earth I’m going to pay for it.
“He’ll insist that you take it.”
“Sorry?”
“My grandfather. He will want you to have the dress, in case you’re worried about the cost. He’s always refused to sell it. And besides, his business days are long behind him now. The old romantic in him has taken over.”