French Kissing (6 page)

The chittering of the rails announces the arrival of the train. The doors open, the crowd on the platform surges forward, and we go with it. It's only when I'm sat next to Gérard, with Beth and Fabienne sitting opposite, and Sean standing precariously between us, all of us laughing as he tries to keep his balance as the train jolts along, that I realise Alexandre isn't with us.

‘Where's Alexandre?' I say

Gérard looks at me blankly.

‘
Où est Alexandre?
' I say more urgently, looking up and down the carriage.

Gérard shrugs, unconcerned.

Beth looks worried. ‘I think he must still be on the platform.'

I groan. ‘We'll have to get off at the next stop and go back for him.'

It takes a while for Gérard to understand this (his English is even worse than my French), but he refuses to go back for Alexandre. And because he's put his arm around my shoulders, I decide to stay on the train as well. And when we get to Trafalgar Square, we're too busy clambering on the lions to think about Alex, who must be the only teenager in France whose parents won't let him have a mobile phone …

‘… so it was only when he wasn't at the coach when it was time for us to go home that the alarm was raised. A couple of teachers stayed in town in case he turned up, and the rest of us were taken back to the school, where our parents were waiting to collect us. We'd just got off the coach, when the school secretary got a call from the police –'

Izzy put her hand over her mouth.

‘I was terrified that something dreadful had happened to Alex and it was all my fault, but he arrived back at the school in a police car, terribly apologetic, claiming that he'd got lost in the park, and couldn't find the coach. Eventually, after wandering the nearby streets, he'd gone up to a policeman. Everyone was so glad he was safe, that the question of how he'd come to be on his own got overlooked.'

‘He didn't grass you up for abandoning him on the underground?'

‘Of course not. Don't you remember what it's like being thirteen?'

‘Not really,' Izzy said. ‘So, after Alexandre lied to the police, that was when you and he became friends?'

‘No. We were friends after the underage drinking incident.'

‘Your schooldays were certainly a lot more interesting than mine. But then I did go to an all-girls private school.'

‘You poor deprived child.'

‘And did Gérard kiss you before he went back to France?'

‘No. But I didn't care. I decided I didn't really like him that much.'

‘Did Alex kiss you?'

‘
No. Back then, he was much too shy.'

‘You missed out, meeting him so young. Now, he's a really great kisser.'

‘Who's a great kisser?' Alfie, having tired of the discussion by the water cooler, came and sat on my desk next to Izzy.

‘Alexandre,' Izzy said, ‘It's not just the way he kisses. He really knows how to –'

I said, ‘Too much information.' I was well aware that Alex must be pretty good in bed – no guy could sleep with as many women as he had and not pick up a few ideas along the way – but I had no desire to discuss his sexual expertise with my co-workers.

Izzy grinned, completely unabashed. ‘Have you seen much of Alexandre since Saturday?'

‘I saw him yesterday morning. And for about two minutes this morning before I left for work.' Although I did see quite a lot of him in that short time.

‘Did he say anything about me?'

I hesitated. What should I tell her?

Before I could frame a tactful answer, Alfie said. ‘Are you going to see him again?'

‘Yes I am,' Izzy said. ‘Even if he hasn't realised it yet.'

‘Listen, Izzy,' I said. ‘Alex is a very attractive guy, but you need to know that he just broke up with his long-term girlfriend, and he isn't looking to get into a relationship right now.'

‘Oh, he told me about Cécile. I reckon I'm exactly what he needs to make him forget her. So if he asks you for my mobile number, Anna, you have my full permission to give it to him. Actually, would you just text him my number now? Make it clear it was my idea that he should have it.'

‘I hate to break it to you, Izzy,' Alfie said, ‘but if he didn't ask
you
for your number, he's not interested.'

‘Oh, he's interested,' Izzy said. ‘He just needs a bit of encouragement.'

‘So you're planning on having a casual fling with this French guy?' Alfie said.

‘I don't do
flings
,' Izzy said. ‘Alexandre may not think he wants a girlfriend, but I'm sure I can change his mind.'

‘Just be careful you don't get hurt,' Alfie said.

‘Alfie! I didn't know you cared,' Izzy said.

Oliver put his head around the partition which separated his and Natalie's office from the rest of us.

‘Morning all,' he said. ‘Anna, could you come in here, please. We need to go over the brief for the hotel brochure.'

‘Be right with you,' I said.

Oliver ducked back into the inner sanctum.

‘See you guys at lunch.' Izzy slid off my desk, and went to her own work station.

‘I do care,' Alfie said. ‘I care about Izzy a great deal.'

‘Friends should care about each other.'

‘I don't want to be her
friend
.' Alfie leant forward over my desk, and lowered his voice, so that only I could hear him over the buzz of conversation and the ringing of phones. ‘I was planning to ask her out. I was just waiting for the right moment.'

I gaped at him. ‘Alfie … I didn't know …'

‘Well, I was. And you are so not going to tell her that.'

‘I won't,' I said. ‘Not if you don't want me to,'

‘Because it really doesn't matter how I feel about her. Not now she's fallen for your Frenchman.'

I started to protest that Alexandre was not
my
Frenchman, but Alfie put his earphones in his ears and stomped away to his desk, next to Izzy's, on the other side of the office.

I stared after him. Unlike Alex, whose emotional outpourings in his letters left very little to the imagination, Alfie had never regaled me with tales about his love life. I'd never once suspected that he had
feelings
for Izzy.

I spent the rest of the week cringing each time Izzy mentioned Alex in front of Alfie. Which seemed to be every time the three of us happened to be together, whether it was in the lunchroom, in the pub after work, or when I was giving them the brief for a new account. In Nova Graphic's daily staff meetings, I noticed that Alfie sat as far away from her as possible (which made me realise that in the past he'd always sat next to her). He'd also taken to staring at her from behind his computer screen, while looking thoroughly miserable. She spent an inordinate amount of time googling
les photographies d'Alexandre Tourville
and drifting round the office with a vacant smile on her face.

‘It's unbearable,' I said to Beth, when I telephoned her on Saturday morning. ‘It's like working with two hormonal adolescents. I've told Izzy that Alex isn't going to call her – he didn't want her phone number when I offered it to him – but she won't listen.'

‘Who'd have guessed that weedy Alexandre would grow up
hot
,' Beth said. ‘And cause such havoc.'

‘Not me,' I said, and added, ‘He really is stupidly good-looking. His body is incredible.'

‘Anna Mitchel! How exactly are you in a position to know anything about Alex's body?'

‘He has this habit of wandering around my flat without his shirt.'

‘You fancy him, don't you? Admit it.'

‘No, I don't. I do find him attractive, but only in a purely objective way. You'll have to meet him, Beth, and see for yourself. Maybe you and Rob could come round to my place for supper one night next week?'

‘I'd like that,' Beth said, ‘but it's always so difficult to find a babysitter. If only my parents hadn't moved so far away from London …'

‘Forget babysitters – bring Jonah and Molly with you.'

‘No, Molly's actually been sleeping through the night the past couple of weeks, and I don't want to upset her routine. Why don't you and Alex – and Nick – come to us?'

‘Great. I'll talk to Alex, and find out when he's free. Nick's away at a conference next week, so it'll be just the two of us.'

Beth sighed. ‘I do miss the days when I could leave the house without having to plan every outing like it was a polar expedition.'

‘Babies do seem to need an awful lot of stuff when they travel.'

‘You have no idea, Anna – Oh, Molly's awake.'

Beth's phone wasn't on speaker, but I could still hear Molly's wails.

‘I'll have to go,' Beth said.

‘Yes, of course –'

‘Let me know which night you and Alex want to come round.' She ended the call.

Beth and I'd been sharing a flat for almost two years when she'd met Rob at a party. Six months later, he'd asked her to marry him. And now they had two-year-old Jonah and seven-month-old Molly. My best friend, the girl who used to spend every weekend in clubs and wine bars, and her summer holidays at beach parties in Ibiza, was a mother. She had a husband, and children, and a life of domestic bliss. And I didn't get to see her nearly as often as I'd like.

I went and knocked on Alex's bedroom door, and he called out for me to come in. He was sitting on his bed, his laptop balanced on his knees. And once again, as he wasn't wearing a shirt, I was confronted with his naked torso.

I would not stare at my male friend's body. It would be inappropriate, disrespectful, and just plain wrong.

Keeping my gaze firmly on Alex's face, I said, ‘Are you working?'

He shook his head. ‘I'm looking at flats to rent. I've arranged to go and view one this afternoon. If it's any good, I'll be out of your way early next week.'

‘You're not in my way.' It had been good to arrive home, on the nights I wasn't seeing Nick, and find Alex there, eager to tell me about that day's shoot (his new job seemed to be going really well), and to hear about my own working day. ‘I like having you around.'

‘You're not such bad company yourself.'

It was then that a bit of a thought struck me.

I said, ‘Alex, do you particularly want to get your own place while you're in England?'

‘I'm not desperate to get away from you, if that's what you're asking.'

‘Good. Because there's no reason for you to move out of my flat, if you're happy to carry on living here with me.'

Alex closed his laptop and regarded me thoughtfully. ‘I would like that, Anna. But … are you sure you want me as a flatmate?'

‘Yes, I am. Unless you turn out to have one of those habits that drives flat-sharers insane, like using up the last of the milk or borrowing shoes without asking.'

‘I promise that I'll always ask before I borrow your high heels.'

‘That's OK, then.'

‘I'll pay rent, of course. That's only fair.'

‘Well, all right. I'll check what the going rate is for a rented room in this area, and we can sort something out.'

‘And if you change your mind about my staying here, you must tell me.'

‘It's a deal.'

We smiled at each other.

I said, ‘I mentioned to my friend Beth that you were in London, and she's invited you and me over for dinner one day next week. When – if – you're free.'

‘That's kind of her. I won't know my schedule 'til Monday, but I'd like to meet Beth again. You wrote that she has a child now, I think.'

‘She has two, a boy and a girl.' I added, ‘Nick won't be able to come with us, unfortunately. He's away the whole of next week.'

‘Your boyfriend is leaving you all alone?'

‘It's only a few days. I'm sure I'll survive.' I sat down on Alex's bed. ‘Nick and I aren't the sort of couple who need to be together 24/7.'

‘How often do you see each other?'

‘Oh, I don't know … Two or three times a week, maybe.'

‘Wouldn't you like to see him more often?'

‘I've never really thought about it.'

‘Have you talked about living together?'

‘No.'

‘Why not? Most couples in their late twenties who've been dating more than a year have that conversation, and end up moving in together.'

‘I don't think that's true. I've loads of friends who live on their own or flat-share.'

‘Perhaps it's different in England. Most of my Parisian friends in their late twenties are living with a partner.'

‘Nick and I are happy enough as we are.'

Alex said, ‘Do you love him, Anna?'

Did I love Nick? My heart didn't beat faster when he came into a room, I didn't feel the need to wake up next to him every morning, but I couldn't imagine not being with him. Our relationship was serious.

I said, ‘Yes, I do.'

‘You've never written that you love him in your letters to me.'

‘I'm sure I have.'

‘No, I'd remember,' Alex said. ‘Does he love you?'

‘Yes …' Not that he'd told me lately, but then he'd never been one for romantic declarations of undying love, not even in the early days of our relationship. ‘But that doesn't mean that we're ready to move in together.'

It occurred to me that the only time I told Nick I loved him was when we were having sex, so I could hardly complain if he wasn't very forthcoming about his feelings for me.

Alex said, ‘I was going to ask Cécile to move in with me.'

‘You never wrote
that
in any of your letters.'

‘I did, actually, but I tore the letter up. It felt disloyal to tell you about my plans before I'd said anything to her. Which is ironic, considering that she'd been cheating on me for weeks.'