Page 22 of Thirty Days in Paris

‘So. Where do we begin?’ asked Nathalie. ‘I mean, what are you even doing here?’

‘To cut a long story short, I’ve just separated from my husband. So I’ve booked an apartment for the whole of November. I’ve given myself thirty days in Paris to “rediscover” myself.’ She put quote marks around the word rediscover with her fingers.

‘Well,’ said Nathalie, ‘you’ve come to the right place. Though I’m sorry about your separation.’

‘Oh, it’s fine,’ Juliet assured her. ‘We just grew apart. We still love each other, blah, blah, blah, but we have nothing in common anymore. We decided to separate and “find” ourselves.’ Another set of quote marks around find. ‘Oh, I’m making it sound so corny and self-indulgent. But, honestly, we are still the best of friends. It was all amicable.’

Nathalie raised an eyebrow. ‘Is there such a thing as amicable? Really?’

‘Actually, yes. I’d still trust Stuart with my life. There’s no one I’d trust more in the world.’

This was true. Stuart played with the straightest bat. He was disarmingly honest and never tried to fiddle anything. He disapproved of people who massaged insurance claims, or put things through on company expenses that were clearly for personal use. He wasn’t preachy, he simply felt life was easier if you played by the rules. Even if you didn’t agree with the people making them up.

Nathalie’s eyes widened. ‘Wow. I don’t know if I could give up someone like that.’

Juliet sighed. ‘I don’t mean this in a weird way, but we became like brother and sister. We love each other dearly, but …’ She shrugged, embarrassed, but also feeling protective of Stuart.

‘You don’t wanna jump him anymore?’

Juliet laughed, remembering how great Nathalie was at getting to the point. ‘Exactly. I know it seems a very superficial reason to end a marriage. But I guess we both felt there was something else out there, and if we didn’t change things, we’d never know.’

‘That’s really brave.’

‘I suppose so.’ She held up her glass. ‘Anyway. Here I am. With Paris at my feet. Thirty days to find a new me.’

‘And a new man?’ Nathalie’s eyes twinkled.

‘Oh God. I don’t think so. That’s the funny thing. I’m not all that interested. I expect Stuart will find someone straight away. Men always do.’ She still wasn’t sure how she was going to feel about that.

‘Where’s he going to find someone better than you?’

‘At the climbing wall. Or on a marathon. He’s become a fitness freak. And I just can’t get enthusiastic about running or cycling or any of it.’

‘No.’ Nathalie looked unimpressed as she cut another piece of cheese. ‘So tell me what else you’ve been doing. I remember you were working on a magazine. I remember you sending me a cutting of your first article.’

Juliet looked down at the table, stroking the worn wood. ‘Oh my God, that was years ago. “How to shop for vintage clothes”. It was your aunt who inspired me.’

‘I know. I showed it to her. She wondered where you’d gone. I told her what you said – a family crisis.’ Nathalie looked at her over the rim of her glass. ‘Is that really what happened?’

Juliet knew she was displaying the classic signs of lying. Touching her face. Avoiding eye contact by looking at the crumbs of cheese on her plate. ‘Crisis, certainly.’

‘You can tell me. You know I’m unshockable.’

‘I don’t know if I’m ready yet.’ Juliet looked up. ‘It’s hard. Remembering. And I don’t want it to spoil my time here. It’s weird. It’s as if I need to revisit everything to work through it. But …’ She felt tears gather in her eyes.

‘Hey.’ Nathalie put a hand on hers. ‘It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s wonderful to see you. Let’s draw a line and start again.’

‘I will tell you, eventually.’ Juliet drew in a shaky breath. ‘It’s been a bit emotional, that’s all. Leaving Stuart. Being back in Paris. Finding you.’

‘I get it.’ Nathalie nodded. ‘I have a lot of questions but …’ She shrugged.

Juliet smiled, grateful that she wasn’t persisting. Old Nathalie would have been on her like a dog with a bone, but she guessed everyone grew up and learned when to drop a subject. And she was grateful that she hadn’t mentioned Olivier. There was plenty of time to open that door, if she wanted.

‘So, do you still work on a magazine?’ Nathalie asked.

‘I’m freelance now. I write lifestyle features for anyone who’ll have me. And for the past ten years I’ve been a ghostwriter – mostly for reality stars and influencers and celebrities. And manuals – decluttering, manifesting, parenting teenagers – that kind of thing.’

‘Seriously? That’s awesome. Would I have read any of them?’

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