‘I’m quite nervous,’ Keeley admitted. ‘Almost as if this is my hotel.’
‘Well,’ Rach said, sheening a rather light-coloured lipstick for her over her mouth as they both looked at their reflections in the mirror of the ladies’ toilets, ‘you’ve designed all these changes and made some of the curtains. You made it all happen so it is your project really.’
‘And it’s your big date,’ Keeley reminded. ‘Tonight could be the night with Antoine, right?’
‘I am counting on the romance in that yurt.’
Keeley smiled and touched a section of her hair, pulling it a little straighter. The yurt was a triumph even if she did say so herself. If the romantic or – as an alternative – intimate family dining experiences went well, she had suggested to Silvie and Louis that they purchase three more of the structures. Not only could they charge money for these extras, it also fitted very well with people’s desire to still be a little socially distant. One table, one tent, one dinner to remember. ‘Thank you for being my guinea pig. Not, you know, a guinea pig like they have in the petting zoo barn but—’
‘Come on! I want to see the inside of the yurts with the elaborate drapes and the map of the sky and the Christmas trees with a gift to take home.’ Rach grabbed Keeley’s arm and pulled her towards the door.
*
Ethan couldn’t believe the transformation. It wasn’t like the small changes he had made in a corner of the hotel at Opera, this was a completely different dynamic. It was almost as if he were walking into someone else’s establishment, one he did not know at all. But that lack of initial familiarity became a lead-in to a whole host of flashes from the past. With every footstep further into the bowels of his hotel he was bowled over by the Christmas décor – the real tree decorated with tiny gingerbread men, trains, wooden eggs, stars, toy soldiers, wrapped gifts with baskets of snow-topped logs at its base, bells and garlands of fir over picture frames and mirrors. Gentle festive music played but it wasn’t an interference, it drew you in, made you feel as though you were part of a world that was going on undisturbed inside what was definitely going to be Welcome Paris. Stress was floating away, no one was without a smile, the traffic and inclement weather outside could be a mile away. Even if he hadn’t known already, he could feel that this was all Keeley.
‘Monsieur Bouchard,’ Antoine greeted him as he headed towards the door to the restaurant.
Ethan cleared his throat. ‘Good evening, Antoine.’ It felt like it had been weeks since he had been here last.
‘Your table is this way,’ Antoine said, sticking out a hand and directing.
‘I am meeting Madame Durand,’ Ethan began.
‘Yes,’ Antoine answered with a nod.
‘She is outside?’ Ethan asked. ‘Are we having dinner in this animal barn I have heard so much about?’
‘You may laugh,’ Antoine began. ‘But for a moment, until the leaflets from the animal shelter began to arrive, Chef thought the sheep were for him. He was keen in creating lamb navarin.’
Ethan wasn’t quite sure if Antoine was joking or not. He followed his directioning though, heading for the door to the garden.
A few paces later and they arrived in the area usually reserved for a few benches and racks to safely keep bicycles. The large wooden barn was at the very end, twinkling lights around his doorway, but here, now, in the foreground sat the most unusual tent he had ever seen. He paused, just looking, taking it all in. The garden was lit by flaming torches – far enough away from structures not to be a hazard – lanterns swung from the branches of the trees, illuminating the layer of crisp snow on the ground. And the tent itself – thick cream material in a circular shape, wooden struts poking out from its top – it looked like it was a dollop of thick clotted cream complete with chocolate flake that had been dropped into the centre of Paris.
‘Please,’ Antoine said. ‘Come this way.’
‘The tent?’ Ethan asked, stepping onto the snow.
‘For the brochure, it is intended to be called a “boutique boudoir”.’
‘I…’ Ethan began.
‘Very much can happen in five days,’ Antoine said, smiling.
‘So I am finding.’
Ethan stepped forward, moving up to the entrance, then tentatively he parted the curtain of fabric.
*
‘Great!’ Rach exclaimed. ‘Right on time!’
Keeley span round to face the doorway and there was Ethan, standing on the coir matting a few short metres away. Her heart was in her throat before she could attempt to do anything to stop it and she felt like she didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She drew her handbag towards her like it was a security blanket.
‘Our work here is done,’ Antoine stated, beckoning Rach towards him.
Suddenly, somehow, her best friend and her best friend’s new boyfriend managed to leave the yurt and neither she nor Ethan had moved one centimetre.
‘I… cannot believe it,’ Ethan said finally. ‘This… boutique boudoir.’ He stepped closer then, his eyes roving over all the work she had put into it. ‘It is phenomenal.’
That one word warmed Keeley all the way up and she took a step nearer to him. It was all billowing canvas above them, decorated with a map of the sky, tiny lights highlighting the constellations. There was a sofa to lounge on draped with thick fleecy throws, plaid blankets and furry cushions. From a small speaker, delicate music was gently rising into the air and there were trugs filled with wood around a roaring stove, Christmas stockings hung from the knobs of a sideboard sat next to a medium-sized Christmas tree. Perhaps, she wondered, if they started to talk about the décor, they could find their way back to a beginning.
‘It’s an idea I had when I was looking at fabric for the inside of the hotel. And then I did a little bit of research. Did you know that although most people say they wouldn’t want to go camping, actually the being under canvas part, the simplicity and the rustic elements of it are not what they find unappealing?’ Keeley said.
Ethan nodded. ‘It is the cold and the rain and the holes in the canvas… or the hours that it takes to put up a tent in the cold and the rain with the holes in the canvas.’
‘It sounds like you are speaking from experience,’ Keeley ventured.
‘The cold and the rain part comes from my few years living on the streets,’ he admitted.
A pregnant pause followed until Keeley’s self-preservation kicked in and she took another few steps towards him. ‘There is insulation in the floor and… the wood burner. Anyone dining here has a choice whether to have someone tend the fire for them or to do it themselves. A home from home but with added touches if required.’
‘It is amazing,’ Ethan breathed. ‘Truly amazing.’
Keeley was closer to him now and it reminded her of everything that had passed between them. The pure, wonderful times and the moment it had all gone wrong. Was there any way to move forward?
‘I…’
‘Do you…’
Keeley’s cheeks flamed as they both started talking at exactly the same time. She closed her lips.
‘Keeley, I need to say something to you,’ Ethan began. ‘Actually, I need to say a great many things to you.’