The Paris Time Capsule (12 page)

“
Excuse me,” Cat said, getting up and moving towards the door.

“
Shall I sign the lease? What do you want me to do?”

Loic
took a step inside the room. “What’re you going to wear?”

“
Nothing!” Cat almost shouted down the line.

Loic
’s eyebrow flickered. “Very French.”

“
What? You – out!” Cat moved to push Loic, and then took a step back.

He had opened the wardrobe.
“Although, this would also make a beautiful first impression.” He zoomed like a pro onto a vintage blue nineteen thirties dress that she had brought, just in case. He put in on the bed.

“
Christian,” she said, looking at Loic.

“
Look, I say we go with it, honey. It is perfect.”

“
Can you hold the apartment for now?”

“
Sure, honey. But it’s not clear to me why you can’t just get on a plane and come home. I will need to make a decision about it soon.”

“
Things have got more complicated,” Cat said, feeling her shoulders tense. “I have to go, Christian.” She hung up.

“
Sorry things are complicated, Cat.” Loic folded his arms.

She stood in the doorway of
the bathroom, facing him. “I’ll come to the party, if Sylvie’s going. But I should be home. It’s going to be way too complicated, Loic. I wish you’d just taken the inheritance and left the past alone.” She shut the door, pulled the dress over her head, brushed her hair, looked at her face in the mirror. Pulled out her makeup bag.

“
If you were Maman, you’d just take the apartment, and the painting, not knowing anything about it, even though it had been left to a stranger?” he called through the door.

Cat smoothed foundation over her skin, brushed on eye shadow, some blush.
She worked fast.

“
Is that what you’d do, Cat?”

“
It’s not like that.”

“
But it is, isn’t it.”

Cat climbed off the back of Loic’s bike at the bottom of the hill. He had parked right on the edge of the market square. The buildings that edged it housed shops, apartments, and a couple of hotels. They were all lit up. Cat looked at the enormous white marquee that covered most of the square. An accordion was playing; there was loud laughter, the smell of meat roasting on a spit.

Cat put her helmet on the bike. She ran her hands down the blue dress, straightening it.

“You’d do the same thing as Maman, Cat. I’m sure of that.”

Cat looked at him.

“How many of your real friends are you inviting to your engagement party?” he asked.

Cat stopped. If he had been standing in front of her, she may have slapped him. Instead, she folded her arms.

Just then, a group of men came tumbling out of the tent. Seeing Loic, they threw their arms around him, slapping him on the back. Then they saw Cat, stopped.

“
So.” One of them said. “This is the beautiful Americaine, Catherine.”

Loic
patted the man who had spoken on the shoulder. “Thank you, Leon. Cat, this is also Paul and Marc. I’m going to take Cat inside for a drink.”

“
Ah, we will be back in a minute!” One of the men shouted. “You, Catherine, have fun!” he called, blowing a kiss to Cat.

Loic
held out his arm for Cat to take. He smiled and shook his head.

Cat stood there for a moment, and then she smiled back. She took his arm and walked into the party. What was the point of arguing about things anyway? With any luck she could help Sylvie quickly, and get back to her own life in a few d
ays time. This escapade, France … it would all be nothing soon.

Cat
lost track of how many times her glass had been topped up with pastis. She managed to eat most the plate of food that one of Sylvie’s friends placed in front of her, delicious spit roasted meat, colorful salads, fresh baguettes. The couple had both made long and raucous speeches in French. Loic had translated for her, quietly, and now, his own speech was well underway, as best man at the wedding.

“
I didn’t know he was best man,” Cat said to Sylvie, when the older woman appeared at their table.

“
He and Patric have known each other since they were babies.”

Cat sat back in her seat, the white plastic that
Loic had promised, feeling her shoulders relax. Once Loic finished his toast, to loud and long applause, the sound of happy conversations, laughter, filled the marquee. Even though Loic’s chair was empty for the moment, the man on her other side made a valiant attempt to conduct a conversation in Franglaise, ending up with both he and Cat in hysterics.

A group of older women brought out a cake the size of a football pitch, and after some loud and very out of tune singing, they began slicing it up.

When Loic came back to the table, a young woman leaned forward and said something to the group. Then, there was a general shuffle about, and the woman seated herself next to Cat.

“
’Ello,” the young woman’s red hair was piled up in a messy bun, and her green eyes danced. “I ’ave wanted to meet you. I am, Aurore, old friend of Josephine’s.”

“
Nice to meet you,” Cat smiled.

“
Eh! Loic!” Aurore shouted. She said something about pastis.

“
Mais, non!” Loic batted his arm at her from the other side of the table.

“
Non? Pastis?” The girl shouted.

“
Oui! Pastis!” The rest of the table joined in.

Aurore leaned in closer to Cat.
“Is old game. We play when we teenagers.”

“
Oh, God,” Cat laughed.

The first few questions of the game, which was clearly some of sort of truth or dare involving pastis, were conducted in French. Cat allowed herself to laugh along with the enormous guffaws that roared around the table, even though she understood nothing.

“Catherine,” Aurore nudged her. “Is your turn.”

“
Oh, no, I don’t have anything to ask.”

“
No. Is not that,” Aurore whispered. “Is Loic, ’e ’as question for you.”

“
No one wants to know anything about me.”

“
Cat,” Loic said, his eyes straight on her. “Describe your apartment in New York. Truth only.”

Quiet descended on the table as ten pairs of eyes stared at her.

Cat frowned at him. That wasn’t such a hard question. She opened her mouth.

“
You cannot tell a lie,” Aurore hissed. “If you are caught out, you are out of the game. Last man standing is winner. Loic is last man in, apart from you.”

Everyone still watched her. The atmosphere seemed impossibly intense.
“I live in Brooklyn. I have an apartment there. It’s small, nothing special.”

“
Oui.”

“
Okay?”

“
More detail.”

Cat looked at him. She had nothing to hide. The game was ridiculo
us, but still. “It’s decorated with vintage things. Pieces that I’ve found in markets. I buy them, restore them, and … it’s not cluttered though. Just that everything is kind of special. To me. Anyway.”

“
They don’t understand you,” Loic went on in English. “But I believe you.”

There was a round of cheers.

Cat sat back in her seat. That hadn’t been so bad.

“
Cat,” Loic asked her again. “We have to finish the game.” He indicated at the pile of euros in the center of the table.

Cat shook her head.
“I just finished!”

“
I already paid for you,” Loic said. “One more question.”

“
Oh, really?” But everyone was looking at her. She smiled. “Okay.”

“
So, you like vintage things.” Loic spoke softly.

“
Yes, yes.”

“
I think that’s true. So, why aren’t you more interested in all the stuff in my grandmother’s apartment?”

Aurore translated this time, to the rest of the table. There were a few mutters.

“Don’t you want to just keep it?”

“
Never!” she laughed.

“
Liar.”

Heads seemed to switch between the two of them.

“Une question plus!” Two men shouted.

“
They take the game seriously, Cat,” Loic said. “They don’t believe you.”

“
Oh, come on!”

“
Tell me something.”

Heads
swiveled.

“
If you’re so honest, if you aren’t even tempted to fight for everything in that apartment, then why are you marrying such a rich New York socialite?”

Cat felt her jaw set.
“I’m not doing that.”

“
Liar,” Loic whispered. Then, in complete silence, he reached his hand out, slow as ever, his eyes stuck on Cat the entire time, and took all the money from the middle of the table. The group erupted.

“
Bah, he always wins,” Aurore said. “’e is annoying like that.”

“
Yes.”

“
Cat,” Loic stood up. “Time to go home?”

“
I think so.” Cat stood up too. Immediately, all the men at the table pushed their chairs back, swamped either her or Loic with kisses on both cheeks, warm hugs. A couple of the women whom she had spoken to during the night stood up and kissed Cat on the cheek as well.

“
I ’ave enjoyed meeting you,” Aurore said. “I 'ope to see you again.”

“
Me too,” Cat said, meaning it.

“
Perhaps we can go for coffee some time?”

Cat smiled at her.
“Oui,” she said. “Sometime, I would like that.” It was unlikely, but there it was.

Cat woke early. She had tossed and turned in the night. The way Loic had played his game must have affected her more than she thought. In the end, Cat decided that was exactly what it was. A game. It didn’t matter. She got up, pulled on her dressing gown, and went downstairs. She would make coffee and talk to Sylvie.

Loic
was in the kitchen.

Cat turned to go back up the stairs. With any luck, he hadn’t seen her.

“Cat?”

Cat stopped in her tracks. Slowly, she turned around.
“Hey.”

“
I’ve been to the boulangerie. Hungry?”

Cat stood where she was.
Loic looked perfectly fine this morning, not a hint of a hangover. Although, it had been hard to know whether he had drunk much last night. He had certainly had his wits about him; after winning his game he had been perfectly able to ride his Vespa back up the hill with Cat on the back. She had not talked to him the entire way.

Now, he seemed perfectly at ease. He strolled over to the table, carrying a plate laden with croissants, another with fruit. The mellow scent of fresh coffee floated in the room. Cat sat down, poured herself an espresso, took a croissant, a tangerine.
Loic sat down opposite her, tore a piece off a croissant, and then put it back on his plate.

Cat ate in silence.
Loic seemed perfectly happy just sitting there.

After what seemed like enough silence, Cat put her coffee cup down.
“I want to help Sylvie, that’s all, Loic. This is a business thing. You don’t have to invite me to … parties, or anything.”

There was a pause.
“Fair enough.”

“
Good,” Cat said, standing up. She picked up her plate, and one of the platters.

Loic
was right behind her. “I’ve booked two tickets on the eleven o’clock train to Albi.”

Cat put her things in the sink. She started rinsing off plates.

“What’s up, Cat?”

“
You have got to be joking.”

“
What’s wrong?”

“
Oh, so you were drunk, then, is that it? Conveniently don’t remember? Would you like me to remind you of what you said?” She turned to face him now, almost bumped into him.

“
Quickest business relationship I’ve ever had, Cat.”

“
Excuse me.”

Loic
went back to the table, started bringing more things over. He stopped. “The New York society pages, Cat? Really?”

Cat pulled out the dishwasher rack too hard.

“You’re the one whose going to have to fit in with him, Cat. You’ll have to fit the mold. He won’t change for you.”

The room seemed to spin.

“I wouldn’t have said anything if I thought you were going to be happy.”

“
You don’t know anything about me.” The kitchen felt very small.

“
I heard enough. Who cares about what you want, Cat?”

Cat put her hands over her ears.
“Stop.”

Gently,
Loic reached forward and took Cat’s hands away. “I get the message.”

Cat started rinsing things off again. She started at the plates.
“We should be worrying about what we’re going to do if we can’t find out why Isabelle never told Sylvie about Paris.”

“
I have no idea.”

“
So, there is no plan B.”

“
Not in my vocabulary.”