Gosh! He had read her thoughts. That was scarier than the idea of him trailing her around the French capital.
‘So,’ he continued, delving his hands deep into the pockets of his coat and wavering a little on his feet, ‘I am going to stop talking now and you are going to tell me what you think about the carousel.’
‘Oh,’ Keeley said. It was an impulse ‘oh’ to buy her a breath of time before answering. ‘It’s… definitely not something I… would have thought I would see here.’
He laughed then, and it was such a warm, hearty sound, bursting the cold air, it felt like the gentle timbre of it was spiralling itself around her in a whirlwind of a touch that almost seemed to put its arms around her. She moved her feet to break the feeling. It was too intimate to feel that way about a laugh…
‘I was a little drunk when I made some of the pinpoints on the map,’ Ethan admitted in a whisper, like it might be a covert secret. ‘But it is one of my favourite places.’
‘From when you were young?’ Keeley queried.
‘You do not like it,’ he seemed to surmise.
‘No… I do think…’
‘You do think…’
‘That it’s…
‘It’s…’
‘Different,’ Keeley managed to finish.
‘I will not accept only that,’ Ethan said, his eyes now giving a flash of challenge. ‘Come on.’ He held out his hand to her.
‘What?’ Keeley gave a nervous giggle, the kind she usually thought was ridiculous when displayed by anyone else.
‘I do not know of anywhere else in the world you can ride a carousel on animals that have long-since died.’ He took her hand then and his skin was so warm compared to hers. She had given the gloves her mum had packed a hard stare before she left the hotel suite and decided to brave the elements without them. Rebelling in all the little ways still felt satisfying.
‘But,’ Keeley said, moving with him towards the roundabout that had stopped moving. ‘It’s for children, isn’t it?’ She looked at the size of the animals. There was no way she would be able to get inside the dodo. She wasn’t even sure her bum would fit on the seat of the something that looked half-leopard, half-giraffe.
‘Who is it that says children should be the only ones to have fun?’
‘But, Ethan, there are no adults on it.’ Suddenly she felt conspicuous. Like she was doing something really wrong and everyone was watching. Except it wasn’t very busy here. It had to be near to closing time and the city had better things to do than watch her spin around on a ride. Was she actually going to do it?
‘You are frightened to have fun?’ Ethan asked, turning to look at her.
‘No,’ she answered immediately. She wasn’t frightened to have fun. Was she?
‘Then, take your choice,’ Ethan offered, placing out an arm as if he were giving her a personal introduction to the animals.
Keeley eyed them all up. The lion had a flattish space she might be able to sit on without breaking any parts of the roundabout. It seemed the only sensible choice. Apart from obviously getting off the ride completely.
Then there was Ethan’s laugh again, followed by a whoop of excitement. ‘I have not ridden this one before.’
Keeley turned away from the lion and saw he was already aboard his stead – a large bird that looked a little like a giant ostrich. His legs were dangling over both sides of the beast, almost touching the wooden floor. He looked both ridiculous and yet still so attractive…
‘This is really silly,’ Keeley remarked, her cheeks reddening as she climbed onto the back of the lion. ‘We might be so heavy the ride isn’t able to turn.’
‘Bof!’ Ethan scoffed. ‘Have you seen the size of some of the children in this day from all the chocolat.’
This might not have been the quiet, thought-processing stroll through the city she had envisaged when Rach had left her for the theatre, but it was definitely lightening her mood. Suddenly the ride jerked forward and Keeley had to grab the lion’s neck to steady herself. An ‘oof’ left her mouth and then she laughed as the roundabout settled at slug-pace slow. ‘But… we haven’t paid!’
Ethan laughed then, looking across at her. ‘You English people do worry about everything, do you not?’
‘You say that as if it’s a bad thing.’
‘I read recently that when you panic you buy antibacterial handwash and toilet paper.’
Keeley sat firm, unmoved by his statement. ‘We like to be prepared for any eventuality. Some of us stockpile chocolate and wine too.
‘What do you fill your cupboards with?’ she asked. ‘Or do the French people not panic about anything?’
‘We fill our cupboards with cigarettes, cheese, red wine and baguettes of course.’
Keeley looked at his straight expression, somehow knowing it was going to turn into a smile. Except it didn’t.
‘What?’ he asked, tone brusque. ‘You think I am joking with you?’
‘I…’
And then his face did crack and he laughed. ‘Of course I am joking with you! English! So serious!’ He put fingers to his eyebrows and, together with a face contortion, he moved them down into a frown. She couldn’t help feeling a little bit stupid. She was serious by nature. More so now than ever before. And it was going to take more than a pep talk from Erica or riding on a fibreglass lion to shift the layers of caution that had built up over her foundations this past year.
‘I was not insulting you,’ Ethan said quickly, maybe sensing his try for humour hadn’t hit the spot. ‘You might be serious as a nation, but you are right – you are organised and methodical in all your approaches. You will live longer. We French take too many risks.’
Keeley swallowed. She was living now, but living as long as a normal-haven’t-had-an-organ-transplant person might hope to live, well, that wasn’t in any way assured. In fact, it was likely she’d have to have another kidney transplant a few years down the line. But she couldn’t bring herself to even think about that yet. Another hurdle to get over when the time came. She was having to learn to be quite the expert in leapfrog…
‘I took a risk coming here to Paris,’ Keeley found herself replying before she really realised it.
Ethan took his fingers away from the elephant-bird and waggled them in the air. ‘Ooo so scary coming to France. Did you fly?’ He laughed again.
‘We took the train.’
‘We?’
‘I’m here with a friend.’ The friend who was currently at a performance of the ballet where she should be. She hadn’t thought through what she was going to say to Silvie Durand about that yet. Would she lie and say she hadn’t felt well? Or would she tell the truth about feeling overwhelmed? It felt wrong to think about not being honest.
‘Is he organised and capable like you?’ Ethan asked.
Keeley smiled as the ride continued to slowly rotate. There were parents watching children from the nearby benches, smiles and waves for their tots, looks of bewilderment every time she and Ethan moved past them. ‘It’s a she… Rach.’
‘And where is Rach tonight?’