They had lost Francine. Their taxi had got stuck between a bread van and a wobbly parent and child on a tandem. The Frenchwoman’s cab had sailed off into the distance and Debs had cursed the driver of the van, the driver of the taxi and the twosome on the tandem. Debs was terrified. It had been all wild eyes, even wilder hair and incantations of planning how she was going to continue with her private-investigator work. And while Debs was muttering about finding out where Francine lived and going through her bins, Ava had thought about what she had heard in the boutique. If Gary was Francine’s boss it was fine. But if he wasn’t... She was trying not to be scared now too. But she was. She was frightened that this had the potential to rip her best friend’s heart out and devastate Sue for the second time in her life. She just didn’t know what to do for the best. So instead of churning things over she had focussed on something to keep her friend’s mind off things and had directed the cab driver to bring them here. And here they now were, in the midst of the most fabulous Christmas market Ava had ever seen.
The smell was heavenly and she didn’t know which way to turn her nose first. One breath in gave her gingerbread and spiced caramel, another was wurst and mustard, all of it infused with sparkles, snowflakes and Christmas at every turn. But Debs, beside her, was walking around blind to all the shopping opportunities that usually would have had her practically orgasming with excitement.
Ava linked her arm through her friend’s and squeezed. ‘Remember the pact we made last night?’
‘I can’t concentrate on anything,’ Debs responded. ‘What are we even doing here?’
‘Debs, you’re writing an article on Christmas markets. This is the Christmas market you wanted to come to. Look at it!’ Ava said, throwing her free arm out to highlight the goodies on offer.
‘I can’t concentrate on anything. Not while there’s some French bint hitting on my step-dad.’
Ava sighed. This was an impossible situation. She reached into her pocket and drew out her iPhone. ‘Right, that’s it. I’m calling Gary.’
‘No!’ Debs wailed, hands flapping for Ava’s phone. Then she stopped. ‘You don’t have his number.’
‘I do,’ Ava replied. ‘He’s given me a lift so many times it’s saved under “T” for “Taxi Dad”.’
‘Don’t call him, Ava, please,’ Debs begged.
‘Well, you can’t go on like this.’
‘I know,’ Debs said with a sigh. ‘I won’t.’ She took a deep breath. ‘You’re right. I need to take a time out. Regroup. Think about what to do next.’ She offered a watery smile. ‘And I totes promised you lunch.’
‘You did,’ Ava agreed.
Debs’ eyes finally met with the festive wooden huts all around the open-air market as she finally came to. ‘Oh my goodness. Look at those earmuffs!’
Ava let herself be dragged towards the hut with all manner of woollen goods hanging from its surrounds. There were furry things, fluffy things, animal heads and more glitter than at a Little Mix concert. The earmuffs Debs was raving about were penguin faces, with glittery red cheeks and sticky-out beaks.
‘How much?’ Debs asked the stallholder.
‘Combien?’ Ava added.
The reply was fifteen euro and Debs was reaching into her bag for her purse before he’d even answered. Ava picked up a hat. It was navy blue with a pattern knitted into the wool. Despite what Julien had said about having others she ought to replace the one she had dropped into the fountain. This one would suit him. She smoothed her fingers over the wool.
‘That’s a bit plain,’ Debs remarked, leaning over her shoulder. ‘How about this one?’ She held up a bright pink hat with gold antlers sticking out of the top.
Ava smiled. ‘I don’t think it would suit Julien.’
‘Ah,’ Debs said, ‘it’s for Julien.’
‘Don’t read anything into it. I dropped his hat into the water at the Louvre and I want to get him a new one.’
‘His and hers?’ Debs suggested, picking up a red version of the hat Ava was holding.
‘Only if it’s on a special offer,’ Ava answered.
‘Combien?’ Debs asked, taking the blue hat from Ava and holding them both up to the stallholder.
Ava sank her teeth into the heavily cinnamon-infused Stollen slice the size of a dinner plate. Her taste buds exploded as the juicy fruit, sugar, almonds and citrus all hit at once. With her new berry red hat on her head, the snow coming down around her, the most perfect mouthful of sugary Christmas goodness between her lips, she would probably consider life in Paris to be pretty sublime, if it weren’t for the tears in her best friend’s eyes.
Debs forked up a tiny piece of crepe and shook her head at Ava. ‘Life is not fair. I don’t know how you can eat something that big and end up so small whilst I have to hide what I’ve got under jumpers.’
‘I have a concave spine and no boobs,’ Ava said through a mouthful of food. ‘You’ve got that booty Beyoncé is always on about.’ She inhaled a second mouthful.
‘But no one has offered to put a ring on it.’
‘Yet.’ Ava smiled.
‘Have you taken pictures?’ Her eyes went to the hundreds of Swiss chalet-style huts around them making it look like they’d stumbled upon a village high up in the Alps.
‘Yes... and I might have to go back to that little stall that sold the silver jewellery,’ Debs remarked.
‘Debs, you have three cotton bags filled with stuff,’ Ava reminded her.
‘None of it is for me,’ she responded, rubbing sugar off her top lip with her finger. ‘They’re gifts.’
‘The glass shaped like the Eiffel Tower?’ Ava asked, an eyebrow raised.
‘My mum,’ Debs offered.
‘The Santa Claus pin cushion?’
‘My nan.’
‘The “grow your own rainbow” kit?’
‘Do you think that will really work?’ Debs asked with sincerity.
Ava laughed and bit into her cake. Her eyes went to the large structure at one end of the square the market was on – la Grande Arche. It was white stone, completely hollow, the snow coming down making it look like a giant picture frame. It was a completely different style to the Gothic and Byzantine architecture she’d seen in the capital so far. She wasn’t sure she liked it. It was a little piece of modern just outside of a city with so much history.
‘I haven’t bought anything for Gary,’ Debs muttered.
‘Debs...’
‘If he leaves Mum then Mum isn’t going to cope and I can see the house getting sold and Mum wanting to live with me and I don’t know if I’m even going to be able to stay in the house if I don’t sell an article soon.’
Ava put an arm around Debs’ shoulders. ‘Right, well, we need to do two things in that case.’
‘What?’ Debs asked with a sniff.
‘You need to start making notes about this market and... we need to find someone who can hack into Francine’s email.’
‘I thought you thought that was a totes terrible idea.’
She had. She did. Before she had heard Gary’s name on the Frenchwoman’s lips. But she didn’t want it to be true. She was hoping to find proof of Gary’s innocence. They were work colleagues. The fact the woman was in an expensive dress shop talking about him was odd, but perhaps Gary’s firm were quoting for insurance for the boutique... it could be anything. And anything was better than an affair.
‘I just think we need to get some facts. Facts in black and white before we worry any more.’ She sighed. ‘And if there are no facts to find then Gary’s done nothing wrong and everything can go back to normal.’
Debs nodded, putting another forkful of crepe into her mouth. She chewed it up before speaking. ‘Do you know someone who can hack email?’
‘I have a hunch I know someone who can help.’
Ava’s eyes went across the market square, looking through the wooden chalets, past the revolving merry-go-round to the vendors selling candyfloss and cinnamon-infused sweet treats and beyond to the street outside the Christmas fair... and there was Julien. Walking arm-in-arm with a woman.
Ava swallowed, watching. The woman was beautiful, Parisian beautiful, dressed in a stylish, tailored bright green coat, her dark wavy hair resting on her shoulders as she and Julien moved along the street. Was this Lauren? She had imagined her a little different. Younger. But she was pretty. So pretty. Something inside her prickled. Maybe this wasn’t Lauren. Maybe it was someone else. A girlfriend. Maybe when Julien had said he was single he hadn’t really meant it... or lied. She sniffed, watching the woman tighten her hold on Julien’s arm, smiling up at him as she talked. It didn’t look like the sort of connection a brother and sister would have, even if they were close. Did that mean she had been duped again? That all men really were bastards? Just like Leo and, potentially, Gary. She sighed, watching the two of them disappear into the distance. Not that Julien was her man. Not that she wanted him to be. It was just he had started to restore her faith in trust just a little bit, and now...
‘Ava?’ Debs questioned, pulling at her sleeve. ‘Are you OK?’
She snapped herself out of it, turning her head to face her friend. ‘Yes,’ she said a lot more brightly than she felt. ‘What’s next? Back to the silver jewellery stall?’
‘I thought I wasn’t allowed to revisit that stall,’ Debs said with a grin.
‘It’s nearly Christmas,’ Ava reminded her. ‘And I think we both deserve a treat.’ And a non-male distraction.