Finding Monsieur Right (2010) (26 page)

'Um, yeah.'

'But he didn't tell me that he'd run into Bella. Did she speak to him?'

'No, no, she didn't, because ...' Jules glanced at Chrissie. She pushed her spectacles to the top of her nose and resumed tonelessly: 'Because the thing is that he ... apparently he was with someone else, some girl. But I said that you probably knew all about that.'

Isabelle thought hard for a minute. Did Clothaire know anyone else in London? It seemed improbable, but not, perhaps, entirely impossible.

'What did she look like?'

'That's what I asked, because of course I thought it was probably just you wearing a hat or something and that Bella had simply not recognised you from a distance.'

Of course, that would be it. Isabelle had actually walked through Covent Garden with Clothaire a couple of times.

'But Bella said it was a tall girl with dark hair. She looked very French, apparently.'

'What does that mean?'

'Well, I think she looked very ... manicured and ... you know, grown-up. Bella said she was wearing a little red coat and high heels.'

'Have you any idea who it might be, darling?' Chrissie said gently.

Isabelle felt quite cold suddenly. She remembered with crystal clarity the beautifully tailored red coat that Marie-Laure had bought from the Bon Marche department store last winter. She had been delighted with this find, because it was 'so couture', and she wore it often. It had been the envy of all her friends. And Marie-Laure was tall, with dark hair. But surely it was impossible. Why would Marie-Laure come to London and not let Isabelle know that she was there?

Isabelle shook her head. 'Yes ... but no. No, no, I'm sure it's not her.'

Jules moved her chair closer to Isabelle's, and gave her shoulder a little squeeze. 'So you
didn't
know about it, then?'

'No.'

Jules sighed a little. 'Also ... Bella thought they were holding hands. I'm really sorry. I should have kept quiet about it.'

'No, no. It was better to tell me.'

'It's just that Bella is such a big mouth that she would eventually have told you herself. She's a menace sometimes.'

'I just don't understand it,' Isabelle said, blinking.

'Darling,' Chrissie said, taking her hand, 'have you ever considered the possibility that Clothaire might
just
conceivably not be a very nice guy?'

22 Daisy

There were no limits, Daisy thought, to the amount of kudos Parisians attached to their intellectuals. Until recently, whenever Daisy spoke about fashion, Marie-Laure had listened in tactful silence, with a good-natured but sceptical smile. Since hearing about her friend's ongoing acquaintance with Etienne Deslisses, however, she had changed her tune and suddenly begun to express an interest in going shopping with Daisy.

'I'm looking for a pretty dress, you know, to go out to dinner, something like that. And I think maybe I would like to go with you to your friend's little shop. What's it called again? Truc et Chose? Machin et Bidule?'

'Organdi & Neoprene,' Daisy said, smiling at her friend. 'Well, well, well. I had no idea you were such a Deslisses groupie.'

'What? Me? Why do you say that? Oh ... It's just that, well, it's
Deslisses
, after all, so ...'

'And the great Deslisses seems to think that I might actually know a bit about this stuff, so now you believe it too. I can't wait to tell him about this. He'll be so flattered.'

'You know, Daisy, I have always thought you had a wonderful style, really original,' Marie-Laure said loyally. 'I didn't need Deslisses' opinion for that!'

'If you like,' Daisy said mischievously, 'I could ask him to sign his books for you. Something like: "To the fascinating Marie-Laure, from her No. 1 admirer ..." You only have to ask.'

'OK, OK, very amusing,' Marie-Laure said. After a brief pause, she added: 'It would be great if he could sign one. If you really think he wouldn't mind.'

On the following day, the two friends made their way to Anouk's shop near the Forum des Halles. Marie-Laure had turned up wearing a black poloneck and short skirt, high-heeled black shoes and that sweet little red coat of hers. She did look very good, Daisy admitted to herself, but oh-so-
safe
. It would be great to take her off the beaten track and shake her up a bit, sartorially speaking.

As they walked past the shop window towards the door, Marie-Laure, who had been very brave until then, slowed down and came to a halt, as though hypnotised by the sight of a dummy which had been kitted out (by Daisy herself) in a radically destructured sable brown fur coat with seven asymmetrically positioned sleeves.

'Isn't it fabulous?' Daisy said, following her gaze.

'Ye-es. But ... well, why?'

'Oh, the extra sleeves, you mean? It's a bold challenge to our preconceptions. You know, the designer's saying: why shouldn't a coat have seven sleeves? Make your own decisions. Don't believe the hype.'

'I see,' Marie-Laure said, taking her eyes off the mutant coat and glancing nervously at her own two arms.

Anouk came to meet them as they walked in. She looked sharply and approvingly at Marie-Laure's neat, leggy figure. 'So,
mon petit
, what are you looking for?'

'I'm not sure. Perhaps ... a little black dress?'

'Now, Marie,' Daisy said severely, 'you have about twenty of those already. I think you should live a little more dangerously. How about something like this?' she said, reaching for the rail and pulling out a rustling little red dress.

Marie-Laure stared. 'But this is a joke, no? It's made of ...'

'Paper. Yes. So?'

'So it's not a real dress. I mean, you can't
wear
it!'

'It is a real dress,' Anouk said. 'The paper is specially treated so it won't tear. Not for a while, anyway. It is just a
little
flammable,' she allowed. 'So it's better to keep away from people who smoke, for example.'

'But the greatest thing about it,' Daisy added enthusiastically, 'is that you can fold it into an envelope.' She demonstrated, placing the dress in the matching A4 envelope that was attached to the same hanger. 'Which is just
so
useful when you're travelling.'

'OK.
Tres pratique
. But I don't need travelling clothes.'

'Oooh look, that's such a great piece!' Daisy exclaimed, darting to the other end of the rail and seizing another dress, which she held up in front of herself. This was a column of entirely see-through nude pink mesh strategically embroidered with clear crystals in the shape of a skimpy bra and knickers.

'Ah, yes,' Anouk said. 'A very witty dress.'

'Try it on! Try it on!'

Marie-Laure shook her head. 'No. I can see that it's amazing but ...
c'est beaucoup trop
! It's too much for me. I can't imagine an occasion when I could wear this.'

'You could wear it to ...' Remembering what Marie-Laure and her family liked to do to unwind, Daisy was struck with an inspiration. 'To go to the opera! It's glamorous enough for that.'

Marie-Laure burst out laughing. 'I can just imagine my parents' reaction! Daisy, come on: it's completely see-through.'

Anouk and Daisy exchanged a look.

'Perhaps it is better if I just have a look around on my own?' Marie-Laure said apologetically.

'Of course.'

While Marie-Laure slowly made her way through the rails, Daisy said, 'Anouk, I can't thank you enough for encouraging me to go out with Raoul.'

'I'm so glad,
ma cherie
. So, is it getting serious?'

'I don't know. I think so. It's very intense.'

'More intense than with ...'

'Oh, with Octave, you mean? It's completely different. Raoul is older, you know, more experienced. He makes me feel sort of ... safe.'

'Perhaps if you had met this Octave a little later in life ...'

'Oh, I don't think so,' Daisy said airily. 'Isn't that right, Marie?'

With furrowed brow, Marie-Laure was examining a white T-shirt.

'Mmm?'

'Octave. He'll never
ever
settle down. He'll just go on tomcatting forever.'

Marie-Laure turned around, holding the T-shirt. 'Maybe you are right, Daisy,' she said absent-mindedly. 'Anouk, how does this work? I think maybe there's been a mistake.'

'Ah yes, that is a really challenging piece,' Anouk said, nodding.

'No, but look! They've forgotten to make a hole for the head.'

'Not forgotten. It's a deliberate statement. If you look closely,' Anouk went on, pointing at the fabric, 'there is a seam here, like a spiral. You see?'

'Yes?'

'If you actually want to
wear
the piece, you cut out your own neck hole along the line.'

'It gives a beautifully irregular result,' Daisy said, enthralled. 'And then you end up with this gorgeous twisty bit of fabric dangling down the side of your neck. She's such a genius!'

Marie-Laure looked astonished. 'So you have to cut it yourself? And then it looks like ... you cut it yourself? And some people would buy this, but not to wear, just to ... have? You are joking, yes?'

'
Ah, mais non
,' Anouk said imperturbably. 'This particular designer only makes very few pieces, you see. She's very collectable. In fact I usually sell most of her things on my website even before I get the stock into the shop.'

'I see. And how much is this T-shirt, for example?'

'Six hundred and ninety-five euros.'

'Six
hundred ...'
Marie-Laure's voice trailed off and she replaced the T-shirt on its shelf.

'The thing about Savage - this particular designer,' Daisy explained kindly, 'is that she sees herself as an artist. She despises money.'

'Ah yes,
evidemment
,' Marie-Laure said. 'I suppose seven hundred euros is still cheaper than a Picasso.'

'So you have not seen Octave at all, Daisy?' Anouk asked in an aside to her friend.

'No. I did miss a few parties as a result but I've been out with Raoul instead, so ... But actually, I think it would be fine to run into Octave now. I've really moved on, you know.'

'
C'est tres bien
. I'm very proud of you.'

'How about you, Marie?'

'What?'

'How is your love life?'

Marie-Laure suddenly looked quite odd, almost guilty. 'Me? I'm not seeing anybody,' she said uncertainly.

Delighted, Daisy laughed. 'I don't believe you! You look like you've got something to hide. Out with it!'

'But no! There is nobody, except ... Oh well, it's too complicated. I can't talk about it yet.'

'Why? Oh, he's married, isn't he? You are so naughty!'

'No, no, he's not
married
, but ... Anouk,' Marie-Laure said, pulling something off the rail, 'may I try that, please?'

'Well played, Marie. But I'll get it out of you later, you know. It's not fair you having secrets when I tell you everything about my life!'

After methodically going through all of Anouk's stock, Marie-Laure homed in on the one item she genuinely liked. This, perhaps unsurprisingly, turned out to be an understated little black dress made of actual fabric, with the conventional number of armholes and a classic sweetheart neckline already in place as part of its design.

'But this isn't at all the strange and exquisite piece I wanted you to have,' Daisy said, disappointed. 'It doesn't even look like designer stuff particularly.'

'Yes, exactly,' Marie-Laure said, glancing again at the fur coat in the window and shuddering slightly.

'And what about that mystery lover of yours? Don't you want to surprise him with something unusual, more exciting? A completely new Marie-Laure?'

'No,' Marie-Laure said, her eyes lowered. 'I know what he likes. It's classic things, things he understands.'

Having said goodbye to Anouk, the two friends headed back in the direction of Marie-Laure's house.

'So are you going home for
les fetes
, Daisy?'

'For Christmas, yes. I'm taking Raoul with me to Truro.'

'You are? To meet your parents?'

'Yes!' Daisy rolled her eyes. 'It's quite a big deal. I've never taken anyone home for Christmas before.'

'So ... it is really serious between you,' Marie-Laure said, looking attentively at her friend. 'Has he told you that he loves you?'

'Yes.' Raoul was passionate in every way and often declared his undying love for her.

'Daisy, that's wonderful! And you, do you love him?'

Daisy thought for a minute. 'I suppose I do, yes.' Which is what she would have told Raoul if he'd asked her. Probably. 'He's very sweet ...'

Daisy paused. For some reason, she found herself thinking about that strange recurring dream in which she searched yearningly for something - or was it someone? - through the streets of Paris. She considered telling Marie-Laure about it then changed her mind. The dream couldn't have anything to do with her feelings for Raoul.

If Daisy sounded at all hesitant, Marie-Laure did not appear to notice it.

'That makes me really happy,' she said, slipping her arm through her friend's. 'So are you spending New Year's Eve in London?'

'I haven't decided yet.'

'Well, you could always come back to Paris. I have decided to have a party.'

'Oh? But I thought you said you weren't sure you could face it? When did you decide?'

'Just now, I suppose. I've changed my mind. I want to do it.'

'Shall I bring Raoul? He hasn't met anybody yet.'

'Of course, bring him. It will be great to meet him and I ...' But Marie-Laure stopped, biting her lip.

'What?'

'There will be ... a surprise.'

'You'll be wearing something adventurous?'

'No, not that,' Marie-Laure said, laughing. 'Another surprise.'

23 Isabelle

Of course there would be a perfectly simple explanation, Isabelle told herself firmly, not for the first time. Belladonna had only met Clothaire once. In all probability, it was somebody else she had seen, not Clothaire at all.

And then there was the question of Clothaire's character. Her boyfriend was really not the type to have ... an affair, Isabelle concluded with an effort. Clothaire liked his life comfortable and
bien reglee
, as regular as clockwork. And he relied on her, Isabelle, to ensure that it was and remained so. The idea that he would allow his perfect routine to become complicated with lies and overpopulated with mistresses was plainly absurd. As absurd as her own dalliance with ... but never mind that now.