The Loveliest Chocolate Shop in Paris by Jenny Colgan

Author:Jenny Colgan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: 2013-12-12T22:00:00+00:00

For a second the following morning, I awoke without thinking anything, except that I felt refreshed from a good night’s sleep. A bright morning light was streaming in through the French window and throwing panes of bright buttercup yellow across my plain white sheets that had come with an old-fashioned blue comforter rather than a duvet.

Then I remembered, and my heart dropped. Oh God. I jumped out of bed and paced about in a rush, not sure what to do first. Well, I had to talk to Laurent—but, I realized stupidly, I didn’t have his telephone number. Sami might, but Sami never answered his phone—he thought it was bourgeois—so probably not. Okay, first things first. Get dressed. Coffee. I pulled on my dressing gown and stumbled in, nearly tripping over the most beautiful guest, asleep on the sofa, who appeared to be wearing angel wings. I recovered just in time and fixed myself a tiny cup of espresso, loaded with sugar, and took it to drink on the balcony. I was definitely getting used to it.

I looked out onto the early Paris morning. Far away across the river I saw a group of police horses being led out to exercise. A small group of schoolchildren were already huddled at the stop for the bateau mouche. Across the road, a woman was taking in washing that had been hanging outside her window on a pulley. We smiled at each other. It seemed so strange to me that somewhere out there was Thierry, being held together by beeping machines, kept alive by plastic tubes coming in and out of his heart. I wondered if Laurent were still there, holding his hand, his heavy head drooping from exhaustion. I was sure he would be. Alice, on the other hand…I had a feeling I might be seeing Alice today. I groaned and set about the daily lottery of seeing if there was hot water. Then I remembered. I still hadn’t called Claire. I could have kicked myself. I glanced at my watch. It was 5:00 a.m. in the UK. She’d still be asleep, hopefully. I couldn’t disturb her now. I’d call her from the shop.

I had a lukewarm shower, glanced once again at Cupid asleep—Sami often provided random sofas to various young artists—and let myself out quietly. My toes—no, not my toes. I always forgot. The hospital psychologist had said I had to say “the place my toes had been.” Otherwise, I would psychologically not manage to get rid of them—well. That place was aching a little, but it was better than yesterday, which was just as well. I had a feeling I was going to require all my energy today. Nothing could let me down.

- - -

Claire sat by the window, staring out, then down at the telephone, then out again. She didn’t want to do anything else. She had tried to sleep, but it hadn’t come. She had wanted to call Anna, but got too nervous when she picked up the phone. If it was bad news…could it be? What was it? But the tone of Anna’s voice had been so panicky.

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