‘I… yes…’ She was on her feet again now and he hadn’t given her much choice in the matter.
‘Where the hell is it?’ The man was spinning around now, looking up and down the street outside the hotel. He picked up a plastic carrying box, its metal gate swinging loose at the front and peered inside. ‘Fuck!’ That word wasn’t French.
‘Was there… something in there?’ Keeley found herself asking.
‘Yes!’ he snapped a reply. ‘And it wasn’t mine! I borrowed it and I have to take it back in a couple of hours before anyone notices it is missing.’
‘O-K,’ Keeley replied. Was this man sane? Or was this some sort of avant-garde street entertainment the French were keen on?
‘Can you look behind the bags?’
He was pointing now at a collection of refuse sacks to the left of the hotel. This was so bizarre. But Keeley found herself stepping towards the pile of bin bags… Was it a cat or a dog that had escaped?
‘What am I looking for and does it have a name?’
‘Pepe,’ the man replied.
‘OK,’ Keeley said. She picked up a bin bag and looked beneath, but how this man thought an animal could have got under it without them seeing was a bit mad in itself. She shook another bin bag to make sure. ‘Is Pepe a cat or a dog?’
There was no reply and, when Keeley turned around, the man had disappeared. Where was he? She sighed. Why did she care? She had come outside to try and quell the irritation of being stood up and maybe regroup. Suddenly, she gasped as the man appeared from behind a giant green recycling bin. He still looked harried. He still looked attractive…
Keeley swallowed. ‘Is Pepe a cat?’ she repeated. ‘Or a dog?’
‘A penguin,’ the man replied almost nonchalantly. ‘Not something I can easily pick up a replacement for.’
‘What?’ Keeley exclaimed. ‘Did you say penguin?!’
He couldn’t have said ‘penguin’. That was craziness of the highest order. Who carried around a penguin on the streets of Paris? Who carried around a penguin at any time? Unless you were… heading for a zoo. Keeley side-eyed the man as he mounted a large bin on wheels and the top half of his torso disappeared completely inside. He didn’t look like a zookeeper. He was wearing a three-piece suit underneath his dark, expensive-looking woollen coat, smart brown shoes… She shook herself. She should retreat now. This penguin business wasn’t her business. She was here on the street to get her head together. She should focus on the festive lights being strung up across the street and a stall of shabby chic Santas and star ornaments doing a roaring trade…
The man popped back up, a piece of orange peel in his hair. ‘Have you seen him?’ he asked her.
‘No, I… don’t know where else to look.’ And helping strangers recover animals who should be living in the Antarctic wasn’t her remit.
‘There!’ the man shouted, pointing a finger to a bright red fire hydrant. ‘Pick up the box!’ He took off in hot pursuit.
Before Keeley knew it, she was doing as he’d asked, snatching up the carrier and charging down the street after him… and it. She could just see Pepe the penguin, running at quite a pace, weaving in and around passers-by making a hideous squawking noise and flapping its flippers like it intended to defy everything known about its species and its lack of taking-to-the-air ability.
Who knew penguins could run so fast? Or that a creature usually known for being cute could terrify the crap out of the citizens of the French capital? Yapping dogs were fear-whining and retreating as it flashed past them, grown businessmen were clutching their iPhones to their ears and leaping out of its path… and now Pepe was heading for the road.
‘Excusez-moi! Excusez-moi! Bouge toi!
The man was getting caught up in a group of people who were coming together in an attempt to take a selfie with the Eiffel Tower in the background. Pepe was about to sprint off the pavement and into traffic. Mopeds gathered pace beeping their horns, taxis continued to buzz along and now there was a van revving its engine as a pod from its roof extended out and up, a man in its basket ready to hang Christmas garlands. Keeley couldn’t wait. Dropping the carrier down, she stepped up her pace. Then, praying it wasn’t going to hurt too much, she launched herself forward, hands outstretched, focusing on her black and white feathered target…
The pavement rose up to meet her and its cold, hard concrete impacted through the thick padding of her coat. But her fingers had definitely met small and fuzzy and she clung on, ignoring the ache in her ribs and concentrating on establishing her connection with the animal, dragging it towards her and out of the gutter. A bicycle rang its bell in warning and then suddenly Keeley found herself propelled backwards.
*
Ethan caught his breath as he sat on the ground. There was now a woman and the penguin between his legs, only a few inches away from the roaring of the Paris traffic. He felt sick, as if the sweets he had consumed were going to make a reappearance. He was also completely out of breath. He really did need to get back to the gym.
‘I’m… not sure how long I can hold it for.’
Ethan shifted then, gently moving the woman’s weight from his body and shuffling around her to grab Pepe who was squawking like he could front a heavy metal band.
‘I did not know it was going to be so… crazy,’ Ethan admitted to her. ‘But that might pay off later.’ He watched as the woman gingerly got to her feet, travelling back a few paces to where she had abandoned the carrier. She brought it over and Ethan managed to place the bird inside before ensuring it was securely locked this time. He turned away from the animal to the woman, noticing she hadn’t quite caught her breath yet and seemed to be holding the side of her body.
‘You are hurt?’ he asked her.
She shook her head. ‘I’m fine.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘You spoke the words like you are not fine at all.’
‘I’ll be OK,’ she answered. ‘I’ve been through much worse.’
‘I can call a doctor,’ Ethan said. She looked pale, her skin in contrast to the brown waves of her hair. She was a little shorter than his five feet ten, lean, but not too skinny. Pretty.
‘No,’ she answered. ‘I don’t need a doctor. I… probably just need a cup of tea and some of the cakes I held off from.’ She took another deep breath, closing her eyes for a second. She opened them again.
‘Are you certain?’ he asked. She had the most beguiling eyes. A mix of not-quite-blue-yet-not-quite-green. ‘I can easily call someone.’
‘I think you would be better off taking care of your penguin.’
Ethan glanced down at the carrier. Pepe had his beak sticking out of the gate, half a sardine in its mouth. Was this a madness brought on by all his insecurities relating to the hotel? Should he take the penguin back to where it belonged and stop with the childish desperation?
‘I should get back,’ the woman said, about to turn away.
‘Wait,’ Ethan said, reaching out and catching her arm. ‘I…’
He found himself rendered a little speechless when she turned back to face him. She really wasn’t pretty. Pretty did not cover it at all. She was uniquely stunning and he couldn’t quite quantify it. All he knew for now was her eyes definitely had something to do with it…