Page 12 of The Paris Trip

Replacing the phone in his pocket, Leo took a step back and looked up, craning his neck as he studied the upper stories. A light came on above and the sound of thudding feet could be heard.

Seconds later, the door was unlocked from the inside – with some difficulty, as it seemed the handle had become detached on the other side too – and flung open.

A young woman in her late teens or early twenties looked out at them, curvaceous and clad in a tightly belted gold dressing-gown with silky white pyjamas underneath and the unexpected addition of muddy hiking boots.

She had a round face and very pale skin, like a porcelain doll, with sleek dark hair exactly like Leo’s, except it fell to the middle of her back in an elegant black shower. They shared the same dark brows and thrusting nose and impatient, thinned lips. His sister?

‘What the hell, Leo?’ The young woman spoke in French, though the rest of her short brutal speech was lost on Maeve, startled by the speed and ferocity of the woman’s utterances. But she was clearly angry and resentful at having been roused at this late hour. No need for a translation to work that out.

Leo heard her out without any change of expression, then nodded over his shoulder at Maeve. ‘Bernadette, allow me to introduce you to Mademoiselle Maeve Eden,’ he said in pointed English. ‘She’s our guest tonight, so try to be polite.’

‘Oh.’ His sister regarded her with brief interest, a touch of hostility in her gaze. ‘A new girlfriend?’ she asked him in French, her tone sardonic.

Well, really…

Maeve decided to embarrass the other woman by ignoring her rudeness. ‘Hello, I’m Maeve,’ she said in slow, painstaking French, ‘it’s very kind of you and Leo to let me stay here tonight.’ She seized Bernadette’s hand and shook it before his sister could protest, giving her a big brave smile. ‘My French isn’t very good, I’m afraid. I hope you can understand me.’

At least, she hoped that’s what she was saying. It was hard to tell, especially as the other woman didn’t bother responding.

Bernadette pulled her hand free and transferred her unfriendly stare to her brother. ‘Liselle is still in bed. She’s been asking for you all day. Apparently, you haven’t been to see her for days and you’re ignoring her calls and texts too. For God's sake, Leo, just go and speak to the girl. Make her understand it’s over, so the rest of us can get on with living our lives.’ She turned back inside, then paused and added casually over her shoulder, ‘Enchantée, Mlle Eden.’

Then his sister stormed back up the stairs, her boots rapping on the uncarpeted stairs; for all the world, Maeve thought, like one of the Billy goats crossing the wooden bridge in the old folktale. Though that, she considered more carefully, would probably make her the troll living under it…

‘I must apologise for my sister, Miss Eden,’ Leo told her, bending to retrieve some screws that must have fallen out when the door handle broke, a frown of concentration tugging his brows together. ‘She’s not much of a charmer, I’m afraid. But I doubt anybody else is awake at this hour.’

‘I hope you’ll inform your sister that I’m not your girlfriend,’ Maeve said with just the right amount of indignation, holding herself stiffly.

Leo looked amused. ‘You caught that, did you? I thought you didn’t speak much French.’

‘It was hard to miss.’

‘In that case, I’m sorry. I will certainly tell her. Though I’m sure she meant it is a joke.’

Maeve felt a little stab of annoyance. Why would it be a joke? ‘Excuse me?’

Without answering, Leo gestured her inside and shut the door behind them, again having to wrestle with the lock. Thankfully, this time it worked.

‘I’ll need to come back and fix this properly before I go to bed,’ he muttered, then realised she was staring at him. ‘What? Oh, that… Sorry, I’ve not been in the habit of asking women out on dates lately. Too busy, I guess.’

‘Really? So, who’s Liselle?’

He raised his brows. ‘Is that any of your business, Miss Eden?’

She blushed fierily, and was glad he probably couldn’t see her face that well in the dimly-lit hallway. ‘Erm, no, sorry. You’re right, that was uncalled-for.’

Her toes curled in embarrassment, which she now discovered was actually a thing. What on earth was wrong with her? She was ordinarily polite and well-behaved, especially with strangers. But there was something about this man that seemed to be lowering all those internal barriers she had taken years to erect. Well, in the morning, she would hurry back to the embassy as soon as possible and be out of their hair for good. Begone, Monsieur Rémy…

‘As I said,’ she added, stumbling over the words, ‘this is very kind of you and I’m grateful.’

‘No need to keep thanking me. You're very welcome.’ He nodded her towards the stairs. ‘After you.’

She preceded him up the stairs and into a honeycomb of narrow, poorly-lit corridors with high ceilings, some hung with unlit chandeliers, some festooned with cobwebs, the walls decorated with dusty gilt-framed portraits of long-dead ancestors, each one bearing the name of the ancestor underneath on a gold scroll. Lights gave off a dull glow at intervals. The walls appeared to be painted a dull, glowering red where they weren’t panelled in dark wood.

‘Which way now?’ she asked at the end of one corridor, her voice echoing in the enclosed space.

‘Follow me,’ Leo said, heading rapidly up another set of stairs, glancing over his shoulder to be sure she was still behind him. They passed through huge doorways and along corridors broad enough to drive a car down, and up and down staircases until she was flagging and quite unable to remember the way they had come in.

‘How big is this place? We seem to have been walking for ages.’ When he shot her an ironic look, she added guiltily, ‘Sorry, but I’ve been up for hours and I'm bloody exhausted… If you'll pardon my French.’

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