‘Nonsense!’ Odette interrupted. ‘You will love it.’ She grabbed Bella’s hand. ‘Come on, I will lend you something. We are only young once, after all.’
Bella allowed herself to be taken along the corridor to Odette’s room. Odette disappeared inside, and Bella made to follow her, only to have the door – abruptly – closed in her face. She stood back, surprised, and was about to knock and say something when Odette emerged, smiling, with a black dress edged with sequins. It was made of some sort of silky material. While beautiful, it wasn’t something Bella would usually consider wearing.
‘Put it on,’ Odette commanded.
‘I honestly don’t mind not going,’ Bella said. But she obediently made her way up to her room. Inside, she slipped off her day wear and pulled the dress over her head. Odette followed her in, unfazed by her near nudity. ‘Wow, you look great!’
‘It’s been quite a day at work, and they want me in early tomorrow so—’ Bella continued.
‘Pah! What does it matter?’ Odette asked. ‘They don’t own your soul, just a few of your hours. You are interning, not running the place!’
Bella was about to protest, when Odette spun her around towards a full-length mirror propped against the wall. Seeing herself, Bella gasped. Gone was the corporate, efficient, possibly forty-year-old businesswoman, and in her place was a young woman who looked vibrant, confident. Ready for a night out.
She resisted the urge to tug at the hem of the dress to make it a bit longer and instead turned to Odette. ‘You really think I can get away with this? It’s quite short?’
Odette scoffed. ‘It is perfect for you. Now, come.’
Something about seeing herself on the cusp of a night out, being pulled along by a new friend. Something about the comradery of the group in the kitchen and the fact that they’d waited for her – as if she actually mattered to their night out – drove Bella forward.
Her fatigue lifted slightly by the time they piled into a couple of Ubers and asked to be taken to Pigalle. ‘What’s at Pigalle again?’ she asked Odette who was squeezed next to her on the seat.
‘Oh, you will see,’ her friend grinned. ‘You will soon see.’
After half an hour, the taxis pulled up at the entrance to a cobbled alleyway behind a busy street full of people dressed to the nines heading out for the night, and sombrely dressed workers heading home. Bella’s eye was caught by the vibrant red of a windmill attached to a building, so lit up it seemed like a beacon. ‘Is that the Moulin Rouge?’ she asked, and Odette looked at her and laughed.
‘Have you not been to Paris before?’ she joked.
‘Not this area.’ Bella wondered why she and Pete had never made the regular trips to Paris they’d thought they might on moving to France. The city had only been a few hours away on the train, but running the business and paying the overheads had meant that both free time and money had been in short supply.
They exited the Ubers and the group of them walked towards a rather shabby-looking building and joined a queue. Things moved fast and soon they were in, twenty euros poorer and a drink in hand, and in a completely different Paris from anything she’d imagined.
The club was packed, people drinking and talking and dancing. Couples and groups crowded the dance floor, arms in the air, lost in the music. There was a raised platform where a DJ was mixing tracks, something Bella didn’t recognise, with a thumping tempo that seemed to reverberate through her whole body.
She felt herself swept up into the pulse of the night, giving into her body’s urge to move and surrender to the beat. She knew from experience that she wasn’t a good dancer but somehow, being on this packed floor with nobody really paying attention, she was able to find some sort of rhythm. She sang along to the odd lyric she recognised, took a swig from her plastic cup and, for once, felt completely part of things as she moved – Henri to one side of her, Odette to the other, completely given in to the important task of having a bloody good time.
And despite her worries about Henri, as he moved closer and leant down to kiss her, she found herself kissing him back. He smelled of aniseed and cigarettes and some sort of spice – a weirdly exotic, intoxicating mix – and his kiss sent shivers of electricity through her. It was the proximity of him, the lights, the sound, but also the feeling of being desired.
Intimacy had begun to fizzle out between her and Pete a couple of years ago and although they’d enjoyed cuddles on the sofa, the passion had definitely gone. ‘It’s what happens in a marriage,’ Kitty had said when she’d mentioned it. ‘It’s a natural part of settling down.’
Bella had accepted this, and over time had learned not to miss the passion that had come at the start of their relationship. But with Henri, her body was responding in ways she’d forgotten it could; and she wondered how she’d let that part of her go, allowing it to slip away almost unnoticed.
But suddenly there was dizziness, a feeling of disorientation. Smiling faces seemed to leer, bodies dancing close felt suffocating. The music started pounding, the lights were a blur of nightmarish colour. She pushed past Henri and rushed for the stairs.
* * *
The air was unseasonably chilly when she exited onto the street, Henri behind her, but felt fresh; welcome. She breathed deeply and leant against the wall until her head stopped spinning.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked, concerned.
‘Yes. I think so. Just… tired, I think. Bit too much to drink.’ She smiled at him, still feeling slightly wobbly. Now, in the alley which smelled unpleasant but at least was out in the open, she felt a little better. She checked her watch: midnight. ‘I think I’d better go home.’
Henri nodded, his eyes still concerned. ‘Will you be OK?’
‘Yeah, I think so.’
‘OK,’ he leant in and kissed her lightly. ‘See you later.’
‘See me— What?’
