From Paris With Love (10 page)

With their arms around each other, they left the busy square and headed down the many steps leading from the Butte back down to the car.  Every now and then Etienne would pause to point out some distant lit monument to Isabelle or to kiss her.

Finally they were back at the car.

“And now it is time to go home,” said Etienne as he started the engine.

“It has been so special.  I don’t want the evening ever to end!” exclaimed Isabelle.

“It is late.  However, it doesn’t have to end if you don’t want it too,” replied Etienne softly.

Isabelle said nothing. 

He looked across at her.  “You can come back to my home, if you want to?” he asked gently.

“But your parents?” she demurred.  She hadn’t expected this!

“They are away for a long weekend.  They have gone to Normandy.  They are not home.”

“But what would Jean-Luc say and Odile?”

“I think they will know you are with me.  They will not worry.  But there is no pressure.  I understand if you do not want to or you do not feel ready.”

Isabelle was silent.  She fretted with her bracelet, unsure what to say or what to do.  Turning the idea over in her mind.  Trying to reach a decision.  This may be her only chance to be with Etienne.  She wanted to, so very much.  And yet – everything in her upbringing urged her not to.  And a niggling little voice keep nagging, don’t forget he’s a Frenchman.  They love passionately and they forget quickly. 

And what would Jean-Luc and Odile think?  She didn’t want them to think badly of them.  But then, her common sense was telling her they wouldn’t think that.  They saw how much she and Etienne cared about each other.  They would only see it as being right.

And Christina?  Well, Isabelle knew she would tease her relentlessly, but she also knew she would be pleased for her.  She would support her decision completely.  They were sisters, best friends and she knew their parents would never know!

She thought about Etienne, sitting quietly beside her, his Gallic face outlined against the darkness of the Paris night.  She realised this must be a big deal for him too, after Marie-Claire.  Her heart went out to him and she realised that if he trusted her, she could trust him too.  Etienne had never been anything except thoughtful, gentle, kind and loving.  Besides, this felt right.  She was in love with him.

Etienne was silent as he drove smoothly through the Paris night leaving the lights of the city behind.

“Ok,” said Isabelle so softly that Etienne wasn’t sure he had heard her.  “Ok, I will come back with you.” 

She was certain she wanted to be with Etienne.  Yet she was worried that he would find her young and inexperienced. 

“I am pleased, Isabelle.  And please do not worry, we will just be together.  We will sleep in each other’s’ arms and wake in the morning together.  It will be very special.”

Isabelle nodded and feeling much happier that she had made the right decision, she snuggled against Etienne’s left arm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

September 1980

Both were quiet as the bright lights of Paris faded behind them and the suburbs loomed ahead with tree-lined avenues and fewer lights.  Soon, almost too soon for Isabelle, Etienne pulled the car to a stop outside his parents’ home.  He switched off the engine and looked across at Isabelle before opening the door.

“You are sure, ma Belle?” he asked quietly.  “I can still take you back to Jean-Luc’s if you prefer?”

Isabelle placed her hand in his and looked deep into his beautiful brown velvet eyes.  “I’m sure”.

Etienne leaned over to kiss her before releasing her hand to get out of the door.  He pushed open the creaking wooden gate and arm in arm they strolled up the path.  The night was cool and dark.  Everywhere was quiet, although it wasn’t even midnight.  Lights were out in most of the homes.  People were sleeping in the neighbouring houses.  He put the key in and pushed open the door, allowing Isabelle to enter first.  He reached across to put on the light.

“Would you like a drink or anything?” he asked solicitously.  “We could have a glass of wine if you like?”

Isabelle nodded.  That would definitely help her to relax, she thought!

She followed him into the kitchen where he took two glasses from a glass wall cabinet, then reached into a tall larder for a bottle of red wine.  Skilfully he uncorked the bottle, then pushed the cork in a little so that he didn’t spill it.

“Come, we will go up to my room,” he said.  Carefully holding the two glasses by their stem and the bottle in one hand, he took Isabelle’s hand, squeezed it gently and reassuringly and led her up the stairs to his room on the second floor.

Isabelle looked around.  It wasn’t a very big room and the ceiling sloped down at one end to a large window looking out over the back garden.  The curtains were navy blue with a vague geometric pattern in grey.  A single bed stood in the corner, with a matching duvet also in navy blue.  It was a tidy room.  A masculine room.  Beneath the window a wooden book case held a variety of different books and a model of a sailing ship.  Isabelle picked it up to examine it more carefully.  “Did you make this?” she asked.

“Yes, some years ago.  I used to enjoy making things like that.  There are several around, although the sailing boat is my favourite.  I love ships and everything to do with the sea.”

“You would love it where I live then,” she replied, carefully placing the model back on the shelf.  “We are right by the sea, near a port too so you we see many different ships.”

“I hope I will visit you one day and see them with you.”

Isabelle hoped so too.  She continued to look around the room.  A dark grey dressing gown hung on the back of the door; a couple of pairs of shoes were tucked under a chair in the corner and a chest of drawers set in the eves.  On top was another smaller model of a car, a couple of photographs – one of a group in which she recognised Jean-Luc and Odile, another of a pretty girl with dark brown curls and laughing eyes.  She realised it must be Marie-Claire and for a moment she felt strange.

“Come and sit with me,” said Etienne, taking her hand and leading her across to the bed.  On the bedside stood the two glasses, filled now with wine.  He took one and handed it to her, then took his own.

“To us, to tonight,” he chinked his glass with hers.

“To us,” she echoed and took a large sip, hoping it would calm the nerves that were taking hold of her. 

“There is no need to be nervous, Isabelle.  I love you and I’m not going to hurt you.  We will not do anything you don’t want to,” he seemed to study her then reached across and kissed her deeply.

Isabelle felt herself responding – she did love the way he kissed her!  It was almost as though he was taking possession of her, they were becoming one instead of two.  Slowly she felt the nerves dissipating.

After a few moments, they each reached for their wine again. 

“Ah, now you are relaxing!” he teased her.

“Isabelle, I know this is new to you and I think this is your first time, no?”

She nodded, a little embarrassed.

“It is strange for me too, you know,” he confided.  “I have never been with anyone except Marie-Claire.”

She realised how much this meant to him too and reaching for him, her lips found his, showing him that she loved him and that she understood it wasn’t easy for him.

After a few minutes, she felt Etienne’s fingers reach for the buttons on her blouse and begin to unbutton them.  His eyes sought her, looking for approval and slowly, he continued until the front of her shirt was open.  Strangely she didn’t feel embarrassed.  Instead she reached for his shirt and began to do the same.  With the buttons undone, he shrugged off his shirt and carefully took hers off.  It seemed deliciously different to cuddle him so closely and to feel his skin next to hers.  It felt so right.

After another glass of wine, she boldly reached to unzip his trousers and he helped her to remove them.  Then she saw the scars – the jagged red scars from the many operations from the accident.  She found she had tears in her eyes, realising the pain he must have gone through both physically and emotionally.  Realising too how much it could be costing him to fall in love with her too.  And she had thought it was easy for him!

Etienne shrugged.  “Do not cry for me Isabelle.  They are not pretty, but they do not hurt.  I do not mind them.  I am so very lucky and they serve as a reminder.”  Carefully he wiped the tears from her cheeks. 

She bent down and gently, very carefully, she kissed each scar in turn before returning to his lips. 

Tenderly he took off her skirt, threw back the duvet and pulled her down into the bed with him.  Together they lay there, arms entwined around each other, whispering and kissing. 

And as Etienne reached to turn off the light, Isabelle found it hard to feel where she finished and Etienne began, they were so close.  She sighed contentedly.  The night was just beginning and it felt so right.  So very right!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

September 1980

The Paris morning sun had yet to rise fully and the sky was still a heavy grey.  Isabelle awoke and for a moment felt disoriented.  Through the first haze of waking, she felt a warm body next to hers – this was not Christina, she thought!  Tentatively she opened her eyes to see a pair of chocolate brown eyes gazing at her. 

“Bonjour ma Belle,” whispered Etienne.  “I have been watching you sleep.  You know you are very beautiful when you sleep, peaceful and quiet.” He smiled down at her.

And she remembered.  The night before came rushing back as she looked back at Etienne and she felt herself blush slightly as she remembered.  He was leaning over her, his hair flopping over his face.  One arm lay under her back and she realised she must have been sleeping in his arms all night.  The other was on her waist.  The sheet was pulled up over her chest, but beneath she realised she wore nothing.  A pile of clothes was thrown untidily on the floor, discarded in their moments of passion.  She stretched luxuriantly and smiled back at him.

“It seems very early, Etienne?” she questioned. 

He nodded.  “Yes, it is only half past six.  I wanted to spend a few moments with you, here, like this, before we have to get up.”

“Get up?” she frowned.  “Oh, you have to go to work!” she remembered.  “And I must get back to Jean-Luc and Odile!”

She thought about Christina – what on earth was she going to say to her?  Maybe she wouldn’t need to say anything. Christina had always been quite open-minded.  Although she must wonder why Isabelle wasn’t lying in the bed beside her this morning when she woke!

“I am not going to work today.  It is Friday,” he shrugged as though way of explanation.  “I want to spend the day with you, Isabelle.”

The unspoken words lay heavy between them.  Spending their last day together.  Before she had to go home.  Before they would have to say goodbye.  And who knew how long it would be before they saw each other again?

She sighed and reached for him, putting her arms around him and pulling him back down to her.  “I think that can be arranged,” she replied coyly. Nothing was going to spoil their last day together.  Not if she could help it.  She wanted to make the most of every minute, every second until they had to part.

It was sometime later when they finally emerged.  The sun had risen over Paris and bright light was streaming through the crack in the navy curtains which had been haphazardly pulled the night before.  Etienne rose gracefully out of bed and drew back the curtains to a bright new day.  Friday.

Isabelle self-consciously reached for her clothes and began to dress herself quickly.  Etienne smiled at her.  “There is no need to be embarrassed, Isabelle.  You are a very beautiful young lady!”

She blushed deeply at his words and looked down.  She wasn’t sure what to say in response!

“Now, would you like some hot chocolate and bread?  You must be hungry!”

Isabelle realised just how hungry she was – dinner now seemed a distant memory.  She followed Etienne out of his bedroom, glancing back and trying to drink everything in to hold in her memory.  Carefully, she went down the two flights of stairs to the kitchen on the ground floor.  The coffee brewing smelt good, but she knew better than to try the bitter liquid, preferring to stick to her hot chocolate. 

She watched Etienne prepare breakfast, slicing the baguette and putting it into the toaster, pouring out a bowl of coffee for himself and making hot chocolate for her.  She sighed contentedly.  It all seemed so perfect, so right, so domesticated. She wished it could be like this for always, instead of one morning only.  How different it would seem when she was home!  How much she was going to miss Etienne and the French way of life!  And again, she promised herself, ‘I will come back to Paris!’

“And now, Isabelle, we must go back to Odile.  They will begin to worry.  Now think about what you would like to do today.   I think we should include Odile and Christina in our plans – it is your last day.”

Isabelle nodded.  She had been reluctantly thinking along the same lines.  Much as she would prefer to spend her final day with Etienne, it wouldn’t be fair to Odile or Christina.

“So, Etienne, do you have any ideas what we could do?”

“We could go to a park somewhere and take a picnic?” he suggested.  “The sun is shining and it is quite warm outside.”

“Could we go back to les Jablines?” asked Isabelle.  “Christina hasn’t been there and I’m sure she would like it.  And I would love to go back.  It would be a perfect place for a picnic too!”

Etienne nodded.  “D’accord.  We will do that!  Now let’s go and tell Odile and Christina.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~