‘The bikes were the best… no, the clowns… no, the acrobats on the horses… no, wait, ses furets! Oui, ses furets!’
Yes, there had been performing ferrets that had brought back all the Mr Peterson vibes and had Keeley wondering exactly how big the squirrels that had attacked her mum had been. The performing ferrets were certainly bigger than any stoat-like creature she had come across before, on a nature documentary or once in the closet of a particularly wealthy estate agent customer.
‘You have named almost every act that performed,’ Ethan said laughing.
‘Apart from the ringmaster,’ Keeley told Jeanne. ‘And he was very good too.’
Jeanne was chomping on a hot dog now as they walked away from the big top over the grass and towards the area where the car was going to collect them from. It was freezing, the snow cracking with every foot laid upon it, breath visible as they chattered. The circus had been amazing and, as it was near to Christmas there had been some lovely festive touches to add to all the hair-raising feats and slapstick from the clowns. Ethan had laughed hard at the clowns, their stupidity off the scale, with most of the endings to their sketches predictable but hilarious all the same. And his laughter had warmed Keeley right the way through. To her it was the sweetest sound, because it felt somehow like that slight tenseness he tended to carry was relieved in that moment. Ethan laughed openly and genuinely, always with a whoosh of stress expelled along with that laughter.
‘Bo-Bo would have liked it,’ Jeanne carried on.
‘Bo-Bo would have tried to eat the ferrets,’ Ethan said.
‘He’s a good dog!’ Jeanne exclaimed.
‘I can vouch he knows how to play dead very well,’ Keeley answered.
‘He will be pleased to see you,’ Jeanne said, a smudge of tomato ketchup on her cheek.
‘Where is he?’ Keeley asked, ‘Is someone watching him?’
‘He is at my apartment,’ Ethan said. ‘He has the entire, yet small, lounge to himself, together with water, too much food and I hope no unexpected accidents on the floorboards. I was also instructed to leave on the TV because he may get lonely.’ He paused then and looked to Keeley, his expression giving the impression he thought he had said something wrong. ‘That is… you do not have to come… to my apartment… I was not saying that was a firm plan. We can always… go somewhere else or… nowhere at all.’
‘Mon Dieu,’ Jeanne said shaking her head as she stopped walking and stared at Ethan. ‘You always do far too much talking!’ She chewed up her mouthful and then started talking again. ‘You have hot chocolate. You have red wine. Offer one of those and Keeley will come.’ She looked to Keeley then. ‘Won’t you?’
Keeley nodded. ‘I would really like to see where you live. Where you both are living at the moment.’
‘The three of us. Do not forget Bo-Bo,’ Jeanne warned. She stepped closer to Keeley then and stage-whispered very poorly. ‘He has cheese in the refrigerator but not very much else. He needs to get groceries.’
‘Dog food, red wine and cheese,’ Ethan added with a shake of the head. ‘My priorities now.’
‘And he doesn’t have a Christmas tree yet. You will get a Christmas tree soon, won’t you?’
‘There is not space for your dog and a Christmas tree in my living room.’
‘Connerie!’
‘Jeanne!’ Ethan shouted.
‘Quoi?’
‘Do I want to know what you two are saying?’ Keeley asked.
‘Non,’ Ethan and Jeanne answered together.
‘Fine,’ Keeley answered with a smile. ‘I look forward to my conversation with Bo-Bo.’