‘So, are you looking for Christmas gifts?’ she asked. ‘Is that why you’re here?’
‘Non,’ he replied. ‘I am looking for items for my hotel.’
‘Hotels,’ Keeley said.
Everything froze for a moment. Did she know he was the part-owner of the hotel she was staying in? How did she know? Had Jeanne somehow gone back on her word and communicated it? Why hadn’t he wanted her to know he was connected to Perfect Paris? Because negotiations were still continuing with regard to the brand’s future? Or because talking about the hotel chain would mean talking about Ferne?
‘You said “hotels” last night when we were talking,’ Keeley said. ‘Unless I misheard. Do you have more than one?’
He wasn’t going to outright lie to her. He nodded. ‘I actually have five.’
‘Wow!’ Keeley exclaimed. ‘I mean… socks are what most people usually own five of. Or books. Or mugs. Or—’
‘I do not want you to get the wrong idea of me,’ Ethan said quickly. He was now acting like he was almost ashamed of his status of hotel chain owner.
‘The wrong idea?’
He nodded, feeling a little like he was going to be fighting with these next words. ‘I am not Mr Hotel. I… merely helped a friend to build her dream and then I was left to carry it on.’ He swallowed. This was much harder than he had envisaged. ‘It is not my vocation. Or rather, it was not. But I feel now as if it maybe could be. You have actually made me feel like it could be.’
*
Ethan had stopped walking now and Keeley halted too, their arms still linked together. His words peppered her heart, marking it with slow, soft indentations.
‘I am not here with the mind of an antique dealer. I am not even here with the vision of an interior designer. I am here to do what you suggested.’
‘Oh,’ Keeley said, not sure she understood.
‘I am here looking for things that matter,’ Ethan continued, stepping in under a canopy. ‘Or rather, things that have mattered.’ He wandered under the ceiling wound with vines and ivy then picked up a mirror that was lying on top of an oriental-style chest of drawers. The wood was old and cracked in places and the glass was smeared and dotted with blemishes. ‘I want to redesign my hotels and make them all about the comfort and all about the story.’ He held the mirror up to their faces so they could see their reflection. ‘Touch. Taste. Feel.’ He carried on. ‘I want the hotels to evoke memories and create new stories, inspired by old stories.’
Keeley could feel her insides reacting to what he was saying. His words were everything she felt about how she wanted her own interior design business to go. She wanted to get to know her clients, understand exactly what their vision was and then dig a little deeper. She carried on looking into the mirror with Ethan.
‘You have brought everything into focus,’ he whispered.
Their framed reflections in this old mirror was like looking at an old photograph, its edges blurred, slightly rumpled, but the two people were knitting together so easily, so perfectly.
‘Can I help you? Look for things?’ Keeley asked as her heart thumped in acknowledgement of how she was feeling here with him.
‘You do not know how much I was hoping you would say that,’ Ethan replied.
His phone bleeped from the pocket of his coat and he put down the mirror. ‘Excuse me,’ he said to Keeley. ‘Things with the hotels are busy at this time of year. It might be—’
‘It’s fine,’ Keeley answered. ‘I’ll make a start.’
He watched her walk further into the depths of the makeshift shop all corrugated sheeting and wood that looked like it might fall down at any second. Smiling, he took his phone from his pocket and saw it was a message from Silvie.
Please come to dinner tonight. No talk about Perfect Paris and Louis will be on his best behaviour. I would really like you to meet the girl Ferne was able to help. X
Ethan shuddered. The girl Ferne was able to help. So the person who had his best friend’s kidney was a girl. He thought about Jeanne, just for a few seconds, and then he put his phone back in his pocket. There was no way he was going to go.
Forty-Six
The Durand House, Neuilly-sur-Seine, Paris
‘This looks like something from a film set,’ Rach remarked later that evening as the car that Silvie had sent for them pulled up outside a substantial property with a large paved driveway. ‘It’s almost as big as the town hall and the chateau we went past.’
There were four columns lined up along the front almost like sentries waiting to confirm their invitation to the house. It was a little imposing in its grandeur and Keeley wasn’t sure what was going to come from the inside. The very large Christmas tree was slightly more welcoming in its appearance. It was as broad as it was tall, and it was covered in perfectly organised lights, baubles and tinsel. Keeley opened the door before the driver could get there to do it for her and she almost expected a choir to appear to regale them with carols. Boots crunching down onto another layer of snow she took a deep breath, stilling herself and acknowledging the surroundings. Snow was wispy in the air now, nothing to cause a concern of getting stranded later, but, with the plummeting temperatures, it meant the ground was still crisp and white.
‘Keeley! Rach! Come in! Come in!’
Expecting a servant, Keeley was surprised to see Silvie standing at the entrance, beckoning them towards the house, wearing no coat. Keeley stepped up her pace, wanting the woman to get back inside and out of the wind.
‘Are you glad we bought the expensive red wine now?’ Rach whispered in Keeley’s ear as they both made steps towards the house.
‘I wish we had bought the larger round of brie and those vintage plates with the birds on them,’ Keeley said with a gulp. Was this really the house her kidney donor had grown up in?
‘Don’t mention birds,’ Rach begged. ‘It always gives me a nasty Mr Peterson flashback when one time he was mounting a crow.’
Keeley smiled as they reached Silvie’s front door and she offered out the wine and cheese. ‘Hello, I know you said not to bring anything but… we did.’
‘Oh,’ Silvie said. ‘There was no need… but thank you so much.’ She took the gifts and looked appreciatively at them both. ‘I do love a good vin rouge.’
Rach was already nudging Keeley that her choice was spot on and Keeley gave her an elbow back.
‘Come in, please, it is so cold tonight even the Christmas tree wants to come inside.’ Silvie smiled and led the way into the home.
There was another tree over the threshold, this one slightly smaller, but just as tastefully decorated, if your taste was regimented and covered in gold. It was a world away from anything Keeley had looked at with Ethan that afternoon. As a maid took Keeley’s coat, then offered the same service to Rach, Keeley thought about her time at the marché with Ethan. They had rummaged! At one point, they had each been holding one of Jeanne’s legs while she climbed into a mammoth Arabian-style basket to retrieve a wooden trug that had caught Ethan’s eye. And they had laughed so much. Sleeves rolled up, hands on items while they closed their eyes and tried to feel an aura the certain object might be offering up. Although Keeley had talked about the memories décor could evoke, she had never actually held something to see if it projected a certain vibe. But, in some cases this afternoon it had. And Ethan said he could feel it too. Sometimes there had been a warmth, sometimes not, but being mindful while you were cradling a coat hook or a collection of hand-painted wooden nutcrackers definitely helped the purchasing process. And Ethan had purchased a great deal that was, this evening, being collected.