The Direction of the Wind by Mansi Shah

Author:Mansi Shah [Mansi Shah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
Published: 2023-02-01T07:00:00+00:00

29

SOPHIE

2019

Sophie leaves Taj Palace around ten thirty that night, and, despite Manoj’s warning, goes straight to Bistro Laurent. By the time she arrives at the small street in the second arrondissement, close to eleven, she realizes she is among the few people still walking the streets that late on a weeknight. Perhaps she should have waited until the morning. The soles of her shoes against the sidewalk ring out into the empty night. She pulls her shawl tighter around her and keeps her head down as she walks. Several of the retailers on the street, like the boulanger, pâtissier, and fromager, are closed, given the hour. Many of the cafés as well. She hears a few voices coming from Bistro Laurent and is relieved to see it is still open.

She takes a deep breath before going inside. The few patrons turn to look at her as she enters. The restaurant is quite empty, but that is not unusual for this time on a weeknight. During the day, this area would likely be bustling with wayward tourists but has more of an eerie quality at night, when it is quiet and sullen. There is a tall, wiry man in his early twenties leaning against the door to the kitchen. He wears a white half apron, so she knows he is staff and probably the best person to ask.

“Bonsoir,” Sophie says. “Parlez-vous anglais?”

The man nods. He has the lingering odor of cigarettes, and she suspects he’d rather be smoking one now than speaking with her.

“I am looking for someone who worked here before.”

The man shrugs. “I’m new here. Only worked here six months, so I don’t know many people.”

“Is there someone else? Maybe an owner?”

He shakes his head. “Not tonight. The owner is Laurent”—he gestures toward the stack of menus with the name in large letters—“and he is only here during the day.”

Sophie thanks him for his time and says she will return tomorrow.

As she exits onto the street, she is again enveloped by the night. There are few lampposts along these side streets, and, even though she does not have much money, she decides to find the metro station so that she isn’t walking the entire thirty minutes back to the Latin Quarter at this hour. She starts heading east, thinking she will run into a stop without too much difficulty, given that is the direction of the Louvre and other tourist attractions. A man in a coat is walking along the opposite side of the road and looks up at her before putting his head back down and continuing on his way. Sophie is not used to being so isolated at night. There is nowhere she could have gone in Ahmedabad that would have had so few people out and about, even if it was because there were people living in shanties along the side of the road.

She hears tires crunching against pavement behind her and turns to see someone on a bicycle. She quickens her pace. After a few

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