‘My friend needs something lovely but not too expensive,’ said Donna. ‘She needs to look gorgeous.’
The sales assistant nodded and addressed herself to Alexandra. ‘You have a very elegant figure, lovely hair – although it does seem to need some attention – and perfect skin. You will look enchanting in anything. But for now, something very simple, I think.’ She put her arm into a rack of clothes without apparently looking and produced a sleeveless dress in the most heavenly shade.
‘I love the colour!’ said Alexandra,
‘I would describe this as Schiaparelli pink,’ said the assistant. ‘It is a strong colour, not one for a little girl but for a woman. Although I’m sure many would argue with me exactly what that colour is. It has a matching coat.’
Before she quite knew what had happened, Alexandra found herself in a changing room.
‘Please put the scarf over your head,’ she was told, ‘so as not to get lipstick on the dress.’
Before she could even attempt to zip the dress the assistant was with her, doing it up. ‘Now come out and show your friend.’
‘You need heels!’ said the assistant next, producing a pair. ‘And here is the coat.’
It was a simple, sleeveless dress that ended an inch above her knee. The coat was fractionally longer and had a stand-up collar and large gold trimmed buttons.
‘There is a hat, also,’ said the assistant, putting a straw hat with a rim that went downwards on her head.
Donna gasped. ‘You look wonderful!’ she said.
The assistant tweaked the collar of the coat, adjusted the angle of the hat. ‘Voilà! You look like a model.’
‘Buy it!’ said Donna.
Alexandra laughed. It was good to see herself looking glamorous and sophisticated, to remind herself who she had been before she went to Provence. She loved the hat.
The vendeuse mentioned a figure that was more than double everything Alexandra had spent on clothes since she’d last been in Paris.
She shrugged. ‘Why not? But I won’t take the hat. I’ll never get it to Switzerland in one piece.’
Donna flapped a dismissive hand. ‘Oh, you’ll manage somehow. It sets off the outfit perfectly. Now, settle up and then let’s have lunch. I’m starving!’
Both girls got the impression that the vendeuse didn’t approve of such open admission of hunger.
The following morning Alexandra was in the salon, writing postcards, having been sent there by Donna. Donna, Alexandra and Bob had enjoyed a very pleasant evening but it couldn’t last forever. Alexandra felt it was time to tell her relations in Switzerland that her return was imminent. She had chosen a postcard to tell them so as to avoid having to go into too much detail.
She was wearing her new dress because Donna wanted to do more shopping shortly (Alexandra wasn’t sure her ankle could cope), and then Donna wanted to take her to a new restaurant which had become the favourite of the ex-pat community.
She heard the front door click open but kept writing as she was fitting in her cousin’s address on a space too small for it. Then she looked up. Antoine stood there. He seemed unusually diffident, not sure of his welcome. For an unending moment, he said nothing.
Then he held open his arms. ‘My darling, the family have thrown me out of the house and won’t let me back unless I have you with me. I’ve come to take you home.’
Chapter Thirty-four
Alexandra didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry. She was shocked, delighted, dismayed and confused, all at the same time.
‘Will you forgive me for my stupidity?’ Antoine went on. ‘I thought I was doing the right thing for you, letting you go, but now I know I was very wrong.’ He set off across the room to where she was sitting. ‘You are my guiding star, my world, my very precious love.’ He drew her to her feet and suddenly she was in his arms, and his mouth was on hers. She felt faint from the force of his passion and her own.
She was breathless when she said, ‘Am I not too young for you?’
‘You’re perfect for me. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure I’m perfect for you.’
‘You’re quite perfect enough already,’ she murmured, hanging on to his lapel and pulling him down so she could reach up to kiss him again.
When Donna tapped on the door and came in a little while later, she found them both on the sofa. Alexandra’s hair was no longer in an elegant chignon but was now down over her shoulders.
‘Antoine?’ she said quietly. ‘Your driver is downstairs. What shall I tell him?’
