I Heart Paris (27 page)

‘Yes,’ I replied, rubbing my temple.

‘Do you have a headache? You should drink some water.’

‘And take some tablets.’

‘But you can’t go to sleep.’

My water bottle and a box of Nurofen were pushed towards me from across the table. I took them graciously, trying subtly to check my watch. Jesus, there was another hour and a half of this yet.

‘So how come you’re going to London instead of going to your boyfriend’s gig?’ Tania waited for me to swallow the tablets before starting the questions up again, which, given what I’d come to know about her in the last fifteen minutes, must have been really hard for her. ‘We wanted to get tickets, but it was sold out. We bought their albums because he’s your boyfriend.’

‘Tania didn’t like them,’ Sasha added.

‘Shut up.’ Her sister gave her a quick punch on the shoulder.

‘I’m, uh, I don’t know,’ I stumbled over my words. Two sixteen-year-olds with an apparently unlimited handbag fund and a mother that took them to Paris at the drop of a hat were not going to be able to help me with this one. ‘I’m just going to see my friend.’

‘So, how do we get our own blog?’ Sasha asked, flicking her perfectly smooth hair away from her perfectly smooth face. ‘Because we want to be just like you, with the blog and the boyfriend in New York and everything.’

‘Well, you need to finish school first.’ I tried to put on my mature grown-up’s hat, but it had never fitted especially well. It was difficult to give advice to two super cool teenagers when you felt like an awkward thirteen-year-old yourself. ‘And then go to uni and study journalism or English, I suppose. I studied English.’

‘Can’t we just start a blog and then get, like
Vogue
or
The Look
to publish it or something?’ Tania cocked her head to one side. ‘We already know loads about fashion and stuff. And my boyfriend is in a band.’

‘They’re shit though.’ Sasha did not mince her words.

‘Yeah, they are,’ Tania admitted.

‘And he’s not that hot.’

‘Not as hot as Alex.’

‘And he’s a bit of a knob.’

‘But he is in a band.’

‘Yeah—’

‘Just because he’s in a band doesn’t mean you should go out with him,’ I interrupted. ‘Believe me, boys in bands are more trouble than they’re worth.’

‘Have you broken up with Alex?’ Tania slammed her hands down on the table. ‘Is that why you’re going home?’

‘And why you look like shit?’ Sasha added, sympathetically.

Honestly, I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever wanted to cry more in my entire life.

‘We’re sort of on a break,’ I said slowly and quietly, not allowing my voice to crack.

‘Ooooooh,’ the girls said in tandem. ‘What did he do?’

‘His ex,’ I replied without thinking. ‘Maybe. I mean, I don’t know. Maybe nothing. I think we just want different things right now.’

Like, I wanted him and he wanted Solène. That was pretty different.

‘He shagged his ex?’ Sasha squealed, attracting the attention of the entire carriage with the exception of her mother.

‘Is she pretty?’ Tania cocked her head to the other side.

‘It doesn’t matter if she’s pretty,’ Sasha was indignant, ‘it’s totally out of order. You should turn around, get back on the next train and kick her arse. And then his arse. And then hers again, just to make sure. Like, properly kick her in.’

‘I think she should go home.’ Sasha said. ‘Sort yourself out, eat loads of ice cream for like, a day, and then get really skinny and be all like “ha, well, I hate you anyway”. And never see him again. Or like, shag his mate or something.’

‘Yeah, you could shag his mate,’ Tania agreed. ‘Do you want to borrow some make-up?’

‘I’m OK thanks,’ I declined politely, ignoring their ‘oh no you’re not’ looks as well as their advice. Even if they were the two best options I’d been able to come up with myself, shagging his friend aside. I really didn’t think I was Graham’s type, what with the lack of a penis and everything.

‘What did your roommate tell you to do?’ Sasha asked, offering me a bag of Haribo. It seemed a weird thing to keep in a Chanel handbag, but there you go. This was what happened when you gave teenagers designer goods. Well, teenagers and me. There were about a million stray Sour Patch Kids refugees living in the lining of my publicly shamed Marc Jacobs. ‘Her name is Jenny, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, but she’s not my roommate any more.’ I felt a huge pang in my stomach at the mention of her name. Worse than I had talking about Alex. Wow. ‘She lives in LA.’

‘She’s awesome,’ Tania chimed in, stuffing her face with sweets. ‘When we get to New York, I’m totally going to be Jenny and Sasha’s going to be you.’

For the first time since I’d left the hotel, a genuine smile crept on to my face. ‘You’re going to work as a hotel concierge while Sasha gets routinely shafted by shit men?’

‘Well, you know, we’re not going to be exactly like you.’ Tania shrugged.

I laughed. It sounded weird. And reassuring.

‘She used to want to be Carrie,’ Sasha rolled her eyes, ‘and Rachel. And Serena. I always had to be like, Charlotte and Monica and Blair.’

‘Blair is the best one,’ I reassured Sasha. This was getting more surreal by the moment. ‘I’d be Blair.’

‘Told you!’ Sasha turned triumphantly to her sister.

‘Yeah, whatever.’ Tania looked a tiny bit pissed off. She was definitely a Jenny. ‘Anyway, what did your roommate say?’

‘We haven’t really spoken much this week.’ This was a discussion I really couldn’t have without bursting into tears so I skirted around the issue as much as possible. ‘My phone wasn’t working and she’s in LA, there’s about nine hours’ time difference or something.’

‘Well, it’s only eight now, that’s what, eleven in LA?’ Tania held out her iPhone. ‘Call her now.’

I took the phone and looked at it. ‘Oh no, it’ll cost a fortune, don’t be silly.’

The girls both burst out laughing. ‘It’s fine,’ Tania spluttered. ‘Just call her. And can we talk to her?’

I breathed in. Of course I knew her number off by heart. Of course she would be up at eleven on a Saturday night. Of course she wouldn’t want to talk to me. But I really, really wanted to hear her voice.

Taking the phone, I tapped in Jenny’s number, messing up the international dialling code twice before I heard a distant ringing. The girls sat across from me, staring intently.

‘Would it be OK if I talked to her on my own for a minute?’ I asked, standing up and not waiting for a reply.

‘But you’ll come back so we can talk to her?’ Tania shouted down the carriage, ignoring all the muttering, tutting and sighing around her. ‘I need to ask her opinion on boots. It’s almost boot season.’

Not knowing exactly where else to go, I slid open the door to the toilet and waited for her to answer. Or not answer. Or answer.

‘Jenny Lopez,’

I almost didn’t recognize her professional voice. It was really far away from the ‘Yo, bee-yatch’ or ‘Angie, what the fuck?’ that I was used to.

‘Jenny, it’s Angela,’ I paused giving her the chance to hang up or at least bitch me out again. But there was nothing.

‘Jenny? Can you hear me?’

‘Yes,’ she replied flatly.

‘OK, look, I’m so sorry,’ I was quick, trying to get everything in at once, ‘I know I messed up with the clothes, but I’m sure they’ll be insured through
Belle
or I’ll find a way to replace them, I’m just so, so sorry and I hate that we’re not talking. It’s been horrible these last few days, really, I’m just so sorry—’

‘Wait, you’re apologizing to me?’ Jenny interrupted.

According to the Angela that stared back at me in the mirror, I was confused. ‘Yes?’

‘Shit, Angie,’ Jenny sighed. ‘I’m the one that owes you an apology. A big one. A pretty fucking huge apology. I’ve been trying to call you all weekend, but I couldn’t get through to your cell or your BlackBerry and that bitch at your office wouldn’t tell me where you were staying.’

‘Seriously?’ Mirror Angela was confused
and
surprised. And really did need some make-up. ‘But the clothes I ruined…’

‘Oh shut up. I’m so sorry, Angie,’ Jenny talked over me. ‘I’m not pissed about the clothes. It was like, annoying, but it wasn’t your fault. Besides, no one cares, no one ever asks for stuff back. Most of what I sent you was at least a couple of seasons old anyway. I was totally out of line, but then I was pissed that I couldn’t get a hold of you and I wanted to talk to you about some stuff and I couldn’t and, well, yeah, I overreacted.’

‘My phone hasn’t been working, it’s, well, there’s been this whole big thing.’ I waved my hand in the air, remembering that she couldn’t actually see me. Which was a good thing given the state of me. ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’

‘You first, seriously, wasn’t there something with Alex?’ Jenny asked, her voice warm and reassuring. It felt so good to be speaking to her like this again. It felt just like when Louisa and I had hugged under the Eiffel Tower.

‘There is, but we’ll get to me,’ I said firmly. ‘What’s up?’

‘I’ve got to move out of Daphne’s place,’ Jenny said in a quieter voice. ‘She’s totally hooking again.’

‘Are you serious?’ I asked, my voice as high as Jenny’s was low. ‘In your home?’

‘In her home,’ Jenny rationalized. ‘She’s been losing styling clients, everyone is scaling back you know, and I guess if you’ve done it before, it’s easy money.’

‘But, oh God, Jenny, you have to get out,’ I groaned. ‘Come home.’

‘I can’t, things are going so well for me. I think that’s another reason she’s doing it. I’m getting so much work and no one is hiring her. It sucks. I feel shitty.’

‘It’s not an excuse and you can’t feel guilty,’ I said. I was desperate to get Jenny out of that house, I’d never been a fan of her current roommate. ‘Can you go and stay at The Hollywood for a while?’

‘I hadn’t thought of that actually,’ Jenny replied. ‘I suppose I could still pull some strings, maybe for a week or so.’

‘Just get out of Daphne’s house, please. You don’t know what kind of people she’s bringing back.’ And I never ever wanted to know.

‘You’re right, I’ll pack up in the morning.’ Jenny yawned loudly and I heard bed springs creaking. ‘She’s “working away” tonight so I’m having an early night. I haven’t slept in days since I busted her last week.’

‘I’m sorry, Jenny.’ I returned her yawn. ‘I haven’t been sleeping that well either.’

‘So what’s going on? Hit me with it.’

I pulled a face in the mirror and took a deep breath.

‘Right, here’s the short version. Alex’s ex-girlfriend is here in Paris and she’s decided she wants him back. He’s been a bit weird and when we went out for his birthday, he announced that he doesn’t think he’ll ever get married and have kids and he doesn’t want to live with me any more.’

‘What the fuck?’

‘So, yeah, that’s half of it.’

‘Shit. OK, go.’

‘Cici shafted me on the job I’m doing for
Belle
. She set me up with this assistant who took me to all the wrong places, she stopped my phone, and because I didn’t have my power cable I couldn’t use my laptop, and all my notes were in the suitcase so the article has been a nightmare and basically, she’s trying to get me to mess up so I get fired and I suppose she gets my job.’

Jenny exhaled down the phone. ‘So, I’m gonna start with Cici.’

‘OK.’ I bit my thumbnail.

‘She’s a bitch and she’s dead. Do you have evidence?’

‘Not really.’ I thought back over the last couple of days. ‘Unless Virginie, she’s the assistant who was supposed to be helping me out, would tell them what happened.’

‘Will she?’

‘I doubt it.’

‘Want me to make her?’

‘You’re going to fly out to Paris and kick her ass?’

‘If I have to.’

I smiled and shook my head. ‘It’s fine. I think the article will be fine. I hope.’

‘I’ll call some people, see if anyone knows any places in Paris you can use, but that bitch needs to be fired,’ Jenny insisted. ‘You have to tell Mary at least.’

‘I sent an email already, she hasn’t replied.’ I’d been trying not to think about my next conversation with Mary. It would not be fun. ‘I just hope I don’t lose my job.’

‘Could you?’

‘It’s not beyond the realms of possibility.’

‘So you’ll find a new job.’

‘But I’d lose my visa.’

‘We’ll get married, I’ll get you another visa.’

‘I’d say that might not sit well with Alex, but I don’t know that for sure.’ I paused for a moment to listen to and then ignore a knock at the door. ‘He might be pleased to have me out of his hair.’

‘So, exactly what has happened?’ Jenny asked. ‘Tell me that asshole hasn’t actually put his dick somewhere he shouldn’t.’

‘You have such a beautiful way with words,’ I said, a little more quietly now I knew I had an audience outside. ‘And I don’t know. He didn’t come back to the hotel last night.’

‘He still isn’t there?’ Jenny asked. ‘Did you call him?’

‘No,’ I admitted. ‘And I’m sort of not at the hotel.’

‘Oh Angie,’ Jenny sighed. ‘You’re gonna have to start from the beginning, honey.’

So I started from the beginning. I told her every single thing that had happened in the last week, from the moment I met Solène in the café, right up to our confrontation at Alex’s gig, via his disastrous birthday dinner, Solène’s party and their secret date that I’d witnessed in the bar. And I did not feel any better for getting it all off my chest.

‘Angie, this girl is a psycho,’ Jenny decided. ‘Trust me, takes one to know one. But it doesn’t mean anything is happening. You know I’m totally on your side over this, but there is no way Alex would cheat on you with this bitch. With anyone actually, but especially this bitch.’

‘But they have so much history and he loved her and they were going to get married and—’

‘Angie, stop,’ Jenny interrupted. ‘I’m gonna have to play a hard card OK? But it’s only because I love you. Weren’t you engaged before you met Alex?’

I stopped breathing, just for a second. ‘Yes.’

‘And didn’t that guy cheat on you?’

‘Yes.’

‘But if he went around behind your back announcing to Alex that he was going to win you back, would that mean for sure that you were getting back with him?’