‘Seven o’clock! That’s late by David’s standards.’
Paris could not have looked more beautiful in the early-morning mist that promised a beautiful day. There was no official car; they walked to the Métro which took them to the flea market.
‘How is your ankle?’ he said as he took her arm.
‘It’ll be fine. Isn’t this fun? And Paris is so lovely at this time of day.’
He kissed her cheek and they set off.
Although there were several stalls selling jewellery it took a while before Alexandra’s eye was caught by a ring that looked different from the others. It was a single diamond, quite large, surrounded by gold and dark blue enamel. She reached out for it and then noticed the price and turned her attention to a smoky topaz set in silver. ‘What about this one?’
‘Try it on. Do you like it?’ said Antoine.
‘Yes I do.’ She did like it. It was quite a large stone and looked nice on her hand. ‘And it fits!’
‘We’ll have it then!’ said Antoine. ‘Darling? I can see a crêpe stall over there? I knew something was making me hungry. Could you get me one with cheese? Breakfast? I didn’t have any.’
‘Nor did I,’ said Alexandra. ‘You won’t forget to haggle for the ring, will you?’ she said quietly. ‘You should never pay the asking price.’ She felt guilty leaving him. Buying antiques at a stall was not for a novice.
Antoine took his wooing seriously. He took her everywhere: to the tourist spots, to the spots only Parisians knew about and everywhere else they could think of. They went up the Seine on a bateau-mouche, they stood on bridges and they drank coffee in little cafés and they ate baguettes jambon-beurre in the street.
They also took Bob and Donna out to dinner the next evening but still Antoine wouldn’t give her her engagement ring. He said it was being cleaned and wasn’t ready.
Alexandra was enjoying life very much but her conscience was pricked by the knowledge that the wedding that she had been organising, had been asked to organise, was happening far away in Provence and she wasn’t there to make sure every detail was perfect.
She had said as much to David on the telephone, after she had given him her news. David was very clear in his advice. ‘Penelope and Jack can get married without you. You’ve got everything ready. There are lots of local people who can help if necessary and I’ll be there. You enjoy the time of your life.’
Eventually, David convinced her, up to a point. Then she found herself telling Donna how guilty she felt about it, too.
She was equally certain. ‘Honey! Just leave it all to them. They’ll be fine. You’ll never have time like this again. You’ll get married, you’ll have babies and you’ll work hard! This is like your honeymoon, without the sex.’
Alexandra laughed, slightly doubtfully. ‘I’m a bit worried about that part now.’
‘No need,’ said Donna. ‘It’ll be fine. Trust me. You fancy each other like mad and he’ll make it work for you.’
‘I’ll take your word for it. I know from the outside I seem very sophisticated, as if I know what I’m doing in life, but sometimes I’m just a girl who hasn’t got a mother.’
Donna rubbed her arm. ‘You’re great. Brave, kind and funny as well as beautiful. And Antoine is a good man. I got Bob to check him out a bit and he is truly honourable.’
‘I know that. Adopting his friend’s daughter and bringing her up as his own was a great thing to do. Although having Stéphie is no hardship.’ She paused. ‘And what about you? Is it rude to ask? Are you thinking of having a family?’
‘Thinking of it, certainly,’ said Donna, suddenly looking secretive. ‘In fact … it’s too early to say really but …’
‘Oh, Donna! That’s lovely! So exciting!’
‘We’re cautiously thrilled,’ she said.
Alexandra hugged her, unexpectedly tearful.
‘So, why are you so nervous about this lunch?’ asked Donna. ‘You know which knife and fork to use.’ Donna was doing Alexandra’s hair into the neatest chignon it had ever experienced.
‘It’s the table manners thing! In England we put our hands in our laps every time we put down our knife and fork, which is while we’re chewing. I know it’s the opposite way in France, and you have to keep your hands visible at all times. I’m convinced nerves will make me forget and that’ll make the godmother stop Antoine from marrying me and I’ll have to go and live in Switzerland after all.’
Donna laughed. ‘That is not going to happen! Even if it does, and the godmother does forbid it, Antoine won’t accept her decision. He loves you! He wants to marry you! And you’ – she paused to examine her handiwork in detail – ‘are the most elegant young woman in Paris!’ Then she sprayed Alexandra’s hair so thoroughly it couldn’t move.
She was in the salon, looking out of the long windows at Paris and the Eiffel Tower when she heard a noise.
It was Antoine.
