Page 41 of Don't Fall in Love (and how to break the rules)

“But what if they were?”

“What if the moon were made of cheese?” asked Dan, stepping in to redirect Dottie’s inquisition, which had been aimed squarely at her mother for the past two hours.

“Well that’s ridiculous,” said Dottie. “Only nursery children think the moon is made of cheese.”

Nisha looked over at Chrissie and gave her a smile. Chrissie replied with a half-smile of her own, frustrated the pair couldn’t escape to a pavement café and spend time together over a carafe of wine. Nisha twisted her eyebrows. “Are you ok?” she mouthed.

“Yeah,” said Chrissie, standing to walk over to her friend. “Just a bit tired, and I could do with some non-child time.”

“Why don’t you take a couple of minutes to yourself?” said Nisha, quietly. “These guys are all busy working out who has the best flavoured crisps and the reddest apple, they’ll be occupied for a while yet. We’ve got it.”

“Are you sure?” asked Chrissie, her heart lifting. A little time to process everything that had happened might do her good. Nisha nodded firmly, and Chrissie smiled gratefully.

She strolled away from the cathedral towards a row of cafes and shops, and without realising precisely where she was heading, found herself standing outside a bookshop – Shakespeare and Co. She remembered reading about this place, a famous stockist of English language books that had been in the city since the 1920s. James Joyce had been a frequent visitor in his early days. Yes, this was exactly the kind of place she could escape to.

It had been a long time since Chrissie had allowed herself to do something entirely selfish, but now she had begun to question her own rules, perhaps this was the time. She went into the shop, which was stuffed full of all kinds of books on ancient higgledy-piggledy shelves.

The shop’s walls were lined with books from floor to ceiling, and in some places the ceiling was double height, with small landings overlooking those browsing the stock on the ground floor. It felt like a magical space, filled with people who enjoyed the freedom reading offered.

Chrissie went upstairs to one of the mezzanines, where she quickly found a book that was intended to be read in the shop, rather than sold. She pulled up a chair and settled herself down to read about Joyce’s Paris adventures and his journey to publishingUlyssesthere, in a bid to overcome the censors. She lost herself in the smell of the musty pages, the words packed onto the paper and the dreamy environment of the shop.

It wasn’t until she’d finished one of the lengthy chapters in the book that she realised the time. She’d left her phone on silent, and had eight missed calls from Nisha and Dan. A few minutes had turned into an hour, and they wanted to know where she was.

Chrissie swore at herself, closed the book and hurried out of the shop. She trotted over the cobbles, dashing towards the cathedral.

“I’m so sorry,” she said to Nisha as she hurried towards the cluster of children admiring the rebuilt spire of Notre Dame as they listened to a tour guide.

Nisha’s mouth was in a straight line. “We’ve lost Hardev,” she said under her breath. “Dan’s gone to look for him, so it’s just been me and Philippa and this lot.” She motioned her hand towards the children.

“God, I’m sorry. Do you need me to go and help Dan?” Chrissie felt the hot sensation of guilt flood her, something she hadn’t experienced for a while.

“No,” said Nisha, failing to hide the annoyance in her voice. “I need you here. While I could have predicted Hardev would go walkabout at some point, I didn’t expect you to. Where the hell did you go?”

“Sorry,” said Chrissie, knowing that the actual answer wouldn’t help matters. “Look, I’ll make it up to you.”

“You’d better,” replied Nisha, her face grim. Her dimple was nowhere to be seen. “And text Dan to let him know you’re back here.”

Chrissie did as she was asked, before walking over to a small group of boys who seemed to be trying to drift off towards the river. “Come on, you lot, stay with the group, please,” she said, wishing more than anything that she could just go straight to bed and have a little cry and a sleep.

Chapter Thirty-Six

“Where on earth was he?” asked Nisha, looking round to see Dan approaching with a slightly pale-looking Hardev in tow.

“He was trying to flag down a police boat on the Seine. He thought they might give him a ride,” said Dan.

Nisha rolled her eyes, while Chrissie looked on and concentrated on trying not to annoy her colleagues any further. “Of course, why wouldn’t he?”

“Well,” said Dan, “me and Hardev have had a very grown-up conversation about how serious this is, and what could have happened.”

“Quite right, Mr Harvey,” agreed Nisha, fixing Hardev with a hard stare. Hardev’s eyes grew large, and he turned to Chrissie, who gave him a sympathetic look. She knew how he felt.

“Ah, Miss Anderson, nice to have you back,” said Dan, noticing her presence. “I hope you managed to get that important job done.” He gave her a wink – clearly not as annoyed as Nisha was.

“Er yes,” said Chrissie. “It took a little longer than I thought it would. Sorry I was away so long.”

Dan gave her a quick smile, before ushering Hardev back into the group of children.

“Right,” said Dan, “the Louvre?”

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