Page 62 of Thirty Days in Paris

‘I’ve been writing a book while I’ve been here. My own book.’

‘You didn’t tell me you were writing a book!’

‘I know. Because I was excited about what we’re going to do together and I didn’t want mine getting in the way. It’s called The Ingénue. It’s about what happened. Why I left.’

‘So he gets to read it and I don’t?’ Nathalie put her hands on her hips, indignant.

‘Don’t be angry. I’ll just tell you instead.’

Nathalie grabbed the last half-bottle of crémant. ‘OK,’ she said, topping them both up. ‘I’ve got all night. Shoot.’

‘It was the night I got the wrong restaurant,’ began Juliet. ‘That’s when it all went wrong. When I muddled up the street names, and thought Olivier had stood me up …’

‘I’m so sorry.’ Nathalie’s eyes were filled with tears as Juliet came to the end of her story. ‘I never imagined that was what had happened in a million years. How do people get like that? So selfish that they are prepared to ruin someone else’s life? You were a baby, for God’s sake. You took the bullet for that guy.’

‘Listen, I was complicit—’

‘Oh, shush. You had a drunken kiss. In a moment of vulnerability. He was totally working you. When you woke up the next day, you knew it was wrong and you didn’t carry on. Do not blame yourself.’

Juliet sighed. ‘But I threw myself at him.’

‘Listen. I know those kinds of men. They are my dad. They have a sneaky way of sending out signals, and somehow, the woman always ends up blaming herself. Trust me, you would not have thrown yourself at him if he hadn’t been giving you the come-on. It’s very subtle, and it works particularly well on young girls.’

Nathalie was scathing. Juliet considered what she was saying, and for the first time in her life she began to see that she might be right. Jean Louis had fed her, he had plied her with wine, he had put on music and invited her to dance. She had been played. Something, thank goodness, had made Jean Louis see sense that night just in time. The fear of being caught? Probably, given his eventual cowardice.

‘What I can’t figure out,’ she said, ‘is if Corinne knew I didn’t take the earrings. If she knew full well Jean Louis gave them to me, then threw me under the bus.’

‘Either way, she’s a manipulative piece of work and he’s a slimeball. You should go find them and call them out.’

‘They must be well into their sixties by now. There’s no point.’

‘That’s no age! They’ll still be swanning about Paris, using people and throwing them away.’

Juliet sighed. She didn’t think it had been as calculated as Nathalie made out. It had been a perfect storm, of vulnerability and naïveté and confusion.

‘It was tough. They had three little children. And looking back, I’m sure she had postnatal depression. Don’t you remember us talking about it? Nobody really knew much about it in those days. Certainly not men. It probably made Corinne completely paranoid and irrational.’

‘And his excuse?’

Juliet sighed. ‘I think he was struggling. To keep the family together. He didn’t understand what was going on with her. She was very tricky. And he was probably desperate for a bit of affection.’

Nathalie rolled her eyes. ‘You are such a good, sweet person. I can’t believe you’re excusing him.’

‘I know. But it’s one thing I’ve learned from writing people’s stories. Things aren’t always black and white. There isn’t always a bad guy. Sometimes there are two bad guys. Or no bad guy, just an impossible situation. Or a mistake. People make mistakes and behave badly. But behaving badly doesn’t make you evil. And hopefully you learn and don’t do it again.’

She stopped, slightly taken aback by her own diatribe. She’d never vocalised what she felt about what had happened to anyone.

‘I do get that,’ said Nathalie. ‘I’ve made more than my fair share of mistakes and done things I’m not proud of. But he should have had the balls to save you.’

‘I know.’ Juliet suddenly felt drained by it all.

Since she had seen the estate agent sign with Jean Louis’ name on it, she couldn’t get out of her mind how he had betrayed her loyalty. How he had turned her life upside down, snatched away her first chance of happiness, destroying her confidence and her self-belief and her belief in other people.

Now she was here, thirty years older and wiser and with nothing to lose, could she let him get away with it?

‘He is still in the city. I saw his name in an apartment window this afternoon. Do you think I should go and find him? Confront him about what he did?’

Nathalie’s eyes glittered like a mirror ball.

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