From Paris With Love (21 page)

‘Oh… Um… It’s nothing – I slipped in the bath.’

I could hardly tell him I’d clipped my eye on a garden gnome, before crawling into a kennel, to hide from terrorists plotting to kill the royal couple.

‘You want to be careful,’ he said and then straightened up, his blonde fringe flopping sexily over his eyebrows. ‘Um, Cindy – there’s a party of Americans coming for lunch, from Texas apparently. Pierre thought it might add a personal touch if you took their order. The booking is for one o’clock. If JC can spare you, that is…’

‘Sure, honey,’ she drawled and flashed her white teeth. Edward looked at me again and Cindy busied herself, whilst he and I talked.

‘So… Still enjoying your time in the kitchen?’ Edward said with one of his devilishly ironic smiles.

‘It’s… mega challenging, that’s for sure. What about you? Still note-taking at every opportunity? Lady C mentioned Country Aspirations were pleased with your pieces on Paris. She reckoned you might be interested in travel writing.’

His face lit up. ‘Indeed they were, and guess what? The Applebridge Chronicle emailed me and wants an article on my stay here – they wondered if I could visit somewhere stately, like Versailles, and write a piece on it from an English aristocrat’s point of view. If it goes down well, they’ll consider giving me a regular column, perhaps filled with reviews of stately homes in our county, or restaurants to try.’ Unable to hide a bubble of excitement in his voice, he continued. ‘But yes, writing my way around the world would be terribly satisfying, after spending so many years in one village.’

‘That’s brill!’

He squeezed my shoulder and I did my best to ignore the tingles his touch still caused. ‘This is all down to you, Gemma. I’d never have thought that writing had a potential for a career, if you hadn’t insisted I reply to Country Aspirations, when they contacted me about liking the blog. It gave me something to focus on, in the weeks after it became clear I wasn’t Applebridge Hall’s heir; after the future I had planned out suddenly evaporated into thin air. Plus this trip to Paris has reignited a passion for foreign climes… Despite how things have ended between us, I’ll… I’ll be eternally grateful to you.’

Chest glowing, I shrugged. ‘Oh, it was nothing – blogs have kicked off lots of writing careers – just look at that highclass call girl, Belle de Jour. I always knew you’d be a brilliant columnist. You belong to a world not many people know about, yet manage to talk about it in a way that everyone can relate to.’

His eyes crinkled as he bent down to kiss my cheek. ‘Thank you.’ As he drew away we stared into each other’s eyes. Eventually Edward cleared his throat. ‘Well, this won’t get the tables laid…’ His lips curved invitingly upwards and he left through the swing doors.

‘Talk about sexual tension,’ said Cindy.

I folded my arms, heart still skipping from that kiss. ‘Nah. That was nothing but a civil chat. He’s clearly planning for the future and moving on.’

‘Just think it’s a shame you two have broken up – especially when in Paris…’

‘This, from you?’ I snorted. ‘You’re the last person who should go all mushy on me, seeing as you deny being into all that hearts and roses stuff.’

Cindy grinned. ‘Fair comment – although I like hearts and roses… just wish they came with a health warning and antidote to the pain that strikes when things go wrong.’ She stopped slicing a lemon. ‘Anyways, listen to this good news… I’ve only gone and got me four discounted tickets to the Disneyland park. Why don’t you and me use a couple on our day off, tomorrow?’

‘How did you get them?’

‘Found them on Ebay – although I had to buy all four. Hey, why don’t we ask that Blade guy you’re dating?’ She winked. ‘Sounds like he’s hot enough to fry an egg on.’

‘Dating? No! I’ve only just broken up with Edward.’

‘Pah – no point waiting around for your heart to heal, honey. Take it from me, there’s nothing like a casual, no-ties fling to perk you up, if your cheese has fallen off your cracker…’

Cindy didn’t meet my eye, and she suddenly seemed very intent on slicing the lemons. Sometimes I reckoned all her talk about not wanting a long-term relationship was a front. I picked up a knife to help her.

‘I doubt Disney is his thing. It’s no fun trying to force someone to enjoy all that Mickey Mouse stuff,’ I said, having learnt my lesson from encouraging Edward to visit the theme park.

‘Ask him! Even if Blade says no, that’s better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. If he says yes then all we need to do is find another man to make up the foursome.’

‘But…’

‘Don’t worry – I mean a foursome of
friends
. A day out for fun, nothing else. Whaddaya reckon?’

Could be good – and it would be nice to see my rockstar pal again. Perhaps I’d ask him this afternoon when we visited the Eiffel Tower.

‘Attention, Pudding!’ barked JC as he returned with a glinting knife. I turned once more to the trout. It was to be served with a brown butter sauce (whatever that was) and almonds. Determined not to gag, I watched as he slit up the stomach and stringy red stuff tumbled out, reminding me of the latest zombie film I’d seen. My head spun a little. JC shot me a look and shook his head.

‘Go sit out the back for a while, in ze fresh air. You have ze face of coconut flesh. Let this be a lesson – being a top chef is close to being a medical surgeon.’

Not waiting to be told twice, I headed past the pantry and out to the back door, to the small tarmac yard where the delivery lorries parked. I sat on the stone step and let a welcome breeze ruffle my hair as I pulled off my white skull hat. After a few deep breaths the nausea disappeared and I got up to take a stroll, before heading back inside.

I walked towards a grassy patch, near a fence at the bottom of the yard. Breathe in, breathe out, in, out… A figure approached from the nearby avenue. Was that Joe?

Black suit, sunglasses out of season, chiselled cheekbones – yep. He walked over, took off the glasses and his mouth slightly upturned.

‘Don’t tell me – you just happened to be in the area,’ I said.

‘Didn’t hear from you last night, after you staked out that meeting. I texted,’ he said, ignoring my friendly sarcasm.

‘Oh… Um, soz… I was shattered by the time I got in – then overslept this morning. I haven’t even looked at my phone.’

Which was just as well – imagine trying to describe last night’s antics in text. Instead I updated Joe in the old-fashioned way, by using spoken words to inform him about the meeting, me going there, the chase… No muscle moved on his face – not even when I mentioned the trampoline and kennel.

‘Good work, Agent G. Your actions showed quick-thinking – although next time, make note-taking less obvious and keep us informed of all your movements. So, you think revolvers are definitely part of this plan?’

‘No doubt about it.’

‘Anything else I should know?’

‘No. Like I said, all I could pick out was the words for war and MiddleWin Mort and one guy talked about “The Mob”. At the very least, those people chasing me proves something dodgy is afoot. I’ll check Monique’s emails again, when I get home tonight.’

Joe thought for a moment. ‘After everything you’ve said, the investigation will need to be stepped up to another level. From now on, I’ll be more involved. So will Agent John Smith…’ Joe took out his phone and texted for a few seconds. He looked back up. ‘This Blade… What do you make of him? Is he a close friend of Monique’s?’

I shrugged. ‘Guess so. Why?’

‘How much do you know about him?’

‘Like I told you briefly, in that text after my visit to the flea market, he won’t tell me his real name but I gave you his date of birth. As for anything else… He works in a music shop in St Denis… Dunno – when the conversation moves on to him, Blade can be a bit vague.’ I put my white skull cap back on. ‘But I guess that’s all about creating a bit of allure. These rockstars have to have some mystique about them. I mean, who wants to know that Elton John’s real name is Reginald Dwight? Anyway, I’m surprised you haven’t heart of his band, Black Bijou, seeing as you’re a heavy metal fan.’

Joe shrugged. ‘They must be very far from even the edge of mainstream.’

‘Or perhaps you don’t know them because they are French.’ For some reason I felt the need to defend Blade, and didn’t like anyone else apart from me implying they’d hardly had any success.

‘Agent G – I’ve travelled the world and learnt quite a lot about my favourite music. Grave Digger from Germany are good, as are Anthem from Japan and Falling in Reverse from the States… but Black Bijou?’ He shook his head. ‘Never heard of them.’

‘Well, Blade says they aren’t into social media, and that’s why I can’t find anything on the internet about them,’ I said airily. ‘Did you manage to discreetly run that photo of Blade I sent you through MI6’s facial recognition databank?’

‘Yep. Nothing. John’s persuaded a junior agent to discreetly check out all men, aged twenty-eight, born on the date you texted me – the twelfth of July. It’s a long job, but so far all of them are accounted for, either employed or registered unemployed in various parts of France.’

‘Apparently he lived in Britain for a while,’ I said. ‘His mum was English. That might help.’

Joe’s face relaxed. ‘Ah. Right. We’ll look into that.’

‘Honestly, he’s really nice! Today he’s taking me to the Eiffel Tower – then tomorrow, Cindy’s got tickets for Disneyland on our day off and I’m going to ask him along. In fact…’ I gave what I hoped to be a sweet, endearing smile. ‘Why don’t you make up the foursome? I’m sure Cindy wouldn’t object…’ Understatement of the year! Whilst she wasn’t looking for a long-term guy, if anyone appreciated hot totty, it was her. ‘I’m sure you can manage just one day off.’

‘I don’t know…’

‘What’s the matter?’ I said. ‘Afraid of enjoying yourself?’

Like some genie out of a bottle, John suddenly appeared by Joe’s side.

‘Us agents fear nothing – especially the company of women,’ he said, as usual making my flesh crawl. He grasped my hand in his sweaty palm. ‘Nice ring, you’ve got there. Cute design.’

I gave him a small smile and pulled my fingers away. ‘Thanks. It came from the flea market.’ I loved the mood ring Blade bought me. Shame I would have to take it off before I got to grips with the trout.

‘Some of those stallholders make a mint selling fake platinum and gold necklaces,’ he said.

‘Okay,’ said Joe, ignoring our jewellery chat. ‘I’ll visit Disney.’

‘Brill! But please don’t wear that bloomin’ black suit, otherwise you’ll be mistaken for one of the park’s managers. Maybe I should take you shopping.’

Joe rolled his eyes. ‘Just text me the details – and good work so far. As I expected, you are proving yourself to be dedicated and determined.’

And before I could get all gooey at the compliment, the two men were gone. A smile crossed my face. Good old Joe had succeeded in perking up my deflated balloon of self-esteem.

I headed towards the back door and just as I got there, heard a horribly familiar tinkling laugh. Moments later The Terrorist appeared on the step, clutching a cigarette and lighter.

‘Monique,’ I said in a tight voice.

‘Gemma,’ she said and lit her fag. For a few moments, she stood puffing, without a single word being exchanged between us.

I tried not to look at the appealing sprinkling of freckles across her nose – or the fine hair lifted by the breeze and her classy, stylish dress flowing out from beneath her coat.

After a particularly long drag of nicotine, she caught my eye.

‘Look, Gemma, about Edward moving in… Can I just say, I never meant to encourage your break-up. He actually believes that you and I could be good friends. Edward and I had quite a chat yesterday afternoon, during our charming boat trip down the Seine. And last night when I got back from a… a meeting.’ A smile crossed her face. ‘Edward is so well-informed when it comes to politics and the arts. After discussing his personal situation, we sat up chatting about all sorts, until the early hours.’

Oh… my … God – could you get any more devious. She was pretending to make up with me, just so that she could score Brownie points with Edward.

‘I think we both know that’s
exactly
what you intended,’ I said, managing to resist the urge to curl my fingers around her throat. Instead, I merely smiled. In any case, I was Agent G and this was the perfect opportunity to calmly pump her for information. ‘None of that matters now, anyway,’ I said in a bright voice. ‘Clearly Edward is moving forward with his life – so am I. What’s done is done.’

‘Oh… Um…
bon
. But surely…’

‘And I’d rather not talk about it,’ I said, with an air of finality. Really? I mean
really
, she expected me to listen whilst she tried to justify her dishonest drivel about never meaning to snatch my boyfriend?

She stared at me for a moment before looking around as if seeking inspiration for what we could talk about. We had as much common ground as a fishing hook and JC’s trout.

‘Did Pierre tell you a politician from England is eating at Chez Dubois tonight?’ she said. ‘He represents your Green Party…’

I shrugged.

‘They support republicanism – like ze French…’ Monique shook her head. ‘Especially in these hard times, I could not bear to let a single one of my tax payments support a wealthy, royal family.’

I noted the disapproval on her face – but then lots of people, like Hugo, thought little of monarchies. See how logical I’m becoming? My mission is teaching me all about the importance of evidence before accusations.

‘The royals have always proved to be a crucial presence during wars,’ I said, digging into my memory for one of Auntie Jan’s favourite arguments. ‘They boost morale. Plus, today the family attracts tourism.’

Monique sucked on her fag. ‘Hanging used to be effective as well – doesn’t mean we should support it nowadays… Times change.’ She flicked her cigarette butt on the floor and it narrowly missed a worm.

‘Careful!’ I said. ‘You almost burnt off that poor thing’s head (or was that its bum?).’ I carried the worm over to a safe patch of turf.

Monique shook her head. ‘It is an insect. That is all.’