Even though Julien was holding her hand she was shaking both with the cold and her nerves. The sheer blouse was a mistake. She should have asked to borrow one of Debs’ jumpers. And this house they were standing in front of reeked of elegance, towering to the night sky, a blue slate roof somewhere up near the stars.
‘How many storeys is it?’ Ava asked through juddering teeth. ‘And are we w-waiting for a butler?’
‘You are cold,’ Julien remarked, putting an arm around her shoulders and drawing her into his body.
‘You h-haven’t answered my question.’
‘No butler,’ Julien responded. ‘And it has three storeys. The top floor has the bedrooms, the middle floor the living areas and the bottom level for the maids.’
‘What?!’
‘I am joking with you,’ he teased. ‘It is just a simple town house.’
‘In a very nice area of P-Paris,’ she said.
‘And we do have another house in the countryside.’
Ava didn’t get time to respond before the door was whisked open and a beautiful woman with dark hair was standing there dressed elegantly in a black short evening dress, a diamante brooch of a cat on the front of it.
‘Julien,’ she exclaimed. She directed a smile at Ava. ‘Hello.’
‘Bonsoir,’ Ava responded, a hesitant smile at her lips.
‘Vivienne, I would like you to meet Ava Devlin,’ Julien introduced. ‘Ava, this is my step-mother, Vivienne.’
‘It’s very n-nice to meet you,’ Ava said, stepping forward and offering out her hand.
‘It is so wonderful to meet you,’ Vivienne greeted. The woman ignored the hand and instead kissed Ava first on one cheek and then the other. ‘And Ava is such a pretty name.’
‘Thank you,’ she answered, still shivering.
‘You are cold! And I am leaving you here on the doorstep. Come in,’ Vivienne ushered. ‘Julien, you know where the coats go, then bring Ava through to the drawing room, I have lit a fire.’
Julien took Ava’s hand in his and nudged her forward and into the house.
‘You would like some wine, Ava?’ Vivienne asked. ‘I have white open or some red.’
‘White please,’ Ava said, warming her hands in front of the fire.
For Julien it was strange being in his family home again. It had probably only been months but it all felt a little different. Nothing much had changed. The oil paintings on the wall bought for investment, the large ox-blood-coloured leather suite, the mahogany-coloured coffee table were all relics from his childhood but they seemed foreign to him. His eyes caught some photo frames on the mantelpiece he didn’t remember. He moved next to Ava, looking at the pictures inside them.
‘We just freshened up the photographs,’ Vivienne said, as if in explanation. He knew then why the change. His father, smashing the ones that were usually there.
‘Is that you?’ Ava asked, pointing at one of the photographs. He was dressed in dungarees riding a tyre attached to a metal bar in a play park.
He nodded. ‘Yes. I had a good sense of fashion, no?’
Ava laughed. ‘No, is the right answer.’ She picked up the photo. ‘And that’s Lauren with you.’
Julien looked at the photo. Lauren standing with her arms stretched up to the sky on the very top of the climbing frame.
‘Now, she is wearing a much better outfit,’ Ava remarked.
Julien smiled and looked at his sister wearing a tangerine playsuit and flip-flops on her feet, her blonde hair blowing in the summer breeze.
‘And this is her too,’ Ava said, indicating a photo in a silver frame a little further down the cream-coloured shelf.
‘Yes, just a few years ago,’ Vivienne said, coming over to them and plucking the picture up. ‘She was such a beautiful girl. This was from a photo shoot we had done together. We laughed so much that day.’
Julien could sense the emotion flooding from his step-mother and he gently took the picture out of her hands and set it back on the shelf. He turned to Ava. ‘Lauren was always laughing.’
‘And she had the most infectious laugh,’ Gerard answered.
Julien shifted around quickly, seeing that his father had entered the room. He offered Gerard a smile as he neared them, dressed casually for him in grey flannel trousers and a pale blue shirt, no tie. He looked tired, strung out, vulnerable.
‘I will get the wine,’ Vivienne said, taking steps towards the door.
‘Dad, this is Ava,’ Julien introduced. ‘Ava Devlin. Ava, this is my father, Gerard.’
‘Bonsoir, Monsieur Fitoussi,’ Ava said. ‘It’s so nice to meet you.’
Gerard nodded, then looked to the departing form of Vivienne almost as if she were abandoning him in unfamiliar territory.
‘So, Dad, how is business?’ Julien asked, trying to keep the conversation moving.
‘Excuse me for one moment,’ Gerard said, stepping back. ‘I will get the wine.’
‘But, Vivienne is—’ Julien began.
‘Please, excuse me,’ Gerard said, retreating fast.
Julien could do nothing more but watch his father leave.