‘I haven’t been up here in years and I had completely forgotten how many steps there are. Goodness there are seriously totes too many,’ Debs said, her hair in her face as she scrambled up the very last flight of stairs to the top of the tower.
‘There are a trillion at the very least,’ Didier remarked.
Ava smiled, squeezing Julien’s hand in hers. ‘Seeing them struggle so much is making me feel really fit.’
‘You are now a master of this, even when you have eaten three or more pieces of cake.’
‘I hope you have got this right, Didier. I don’t know if I can walk up these stairs again at all over the next week,’ Debs said.
‘I have this right. My contact provides good information as always,’ Didier assured. ‘We now just have to wait.’
Ava moved towards the barrier and leant against it looking out at a very different Paris from the one she had left in December. Gone was the snow and the bare trees, now there were green lawns, trees in bud with blossom and the sun shining hot. Paris was now her home and next week she was starting an art course at college. She also had a part-time job at a coffee shop near her and Julien’s apartment. It didn’t pay as well as selling apartments but it was enough to keep her in strong coffee and Camembert each week and who knew what was in her illustrating future?
Rhoda had been to stay and their relationship was in a good place right now. They had taken the train to the South of France and ridden horses on the beach. Quality, unpressured time was starting to plaster over the cracks. And, likewise, if her dad could drag himself away from his Tottenham season ticket she was hoping him and Myleene were going to visit her soon.
‘So, where are we going to eat tonight?’ Ava asked them.
Didier rolled his eyes. ‘Always about the food, Ava? Seriously?’
‘I thought we might go back to that very first little bistro we all ate in together,’ Debs suggested.
‘Ah, Brasserie Du Bec, the little bistro where these two did nothing but argue,’ Didier stated.
‘And we balanced wine corks on our noses,’ Debs said, smiling at him.
‘All you did was hiccup and talk about coq,’ Ava reminded.
‘And nothing has changed, n’est ce pas?’ Didier said, nudging Debs.
‘They are coming,’ Julien stated, moving from the stairway to the fence where the others were gathered.
‘Link arms,’ Didier said, hooking himself up to Debs and Julien.
Ava slipped her arm through Julien’s and put her other hand through the railing, fingers holding onto the fence, bracing herself.
‘Step away!’ Didier shouted to the two men in council overalls who had appeared from the stairs down.
‘We are protesting!’ Debs added.
‘We will not be moved!’ Ava yelled.
The men approached them, looking as much intrigued as angered.
‘We are standing up for our rights as citizens of France...’ Julien began.
‘And holidaymakers having relations with citizens of France,’ Debs added.
‘And we are fighting for our right—’
‘I really want to say “to party” right now,’ Ava responded.
‘This is serious, Madonna,’ Julien reminded her. ‘These men want to cut off our love locks.’
‘I know but... we could just let them and then buy some more,’ Ava suggested. ‘No? Not the protest spirit?’
‘If you do not leave us now and leave our love locks forever in this place then we will—’ Didier started.
‘Charge,’ Debs said. She bared her teeth at the council workers.
‘Charge? Like a bull?’ Ava asked. ‘We didn’t mention charging.’
‘We will stay here all day,’ Didier continued. ‘All day long. And tomorrow too. We will sleep here and we will dance.’ He began to move his legs, his arms still linked to Julien and Debs, kicking a can-can like a Moulin Rouge performer.
‘How are they not laughing?’ Ava asked. ‘I want to laugh.’
‘All day long,’ Didier called. ‘Give up your cutting instruments! Go home! Let us hum the national anthem.’
The tallest council worker threw up his hands and together with his comrade they retreated to the steps that led down to the next level.
Didier raised his fist in the air. ‘A victory for the people!’
Ava unlinked her arms and bent down, her fingers lifting the three locks intertwined together with their names.
‘I am not sure we can come up here every time Didier’s friend at the council warns us they are coming,’ Julien told her.
‘I know,’ she answered, smiling at him. ‘But, like I said, if something breaks, we can fix it.’
‘And that is a life lesson, Madonna,’ Julien said, putting his arms around her. ‘A life lesson.’
‘We need to get a love lock,’ Debs said, taking Didier’s arm.
‘I was thinking more of handcuffs for the bedroom,’ Didier answered.
Debs giggled. ‘You are totes naughty.’
Ava reached up, the flat of her palm against Julien’s cheek, eyes matching his. ‘Je t’aime Monsieur Fitoussi.’
He kissed her then, his fingers moving over the hair she had kept super short. ‘Je t’aime, Madonna.’