The Mysterious Bakery On Rue De Paris by Evie Gaughan

Author:Evie Gaughan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, history, paranormal, france, gothic, womens fiction, gypsy jazz
Publisher: Evie Gaughan

Chapter 15

Another postcard arrived first thing Monday morning. I just about managed to refrain from kissing the postman, for my heart leapt at the thought of Hugo and his intense eyes that sought to know me on that magical night. I had been intermittently going over that evening in my head, wishing things had turned out differently. Our premature goodbye had left me feeling as though I’d missed my chance, so these postcards kept my foolish hopes alive.

The picture this time was of a beautiful bridge called Pont Neuf, stretching over a large expanse of water, namely the Garonne River. On the back it simply said:

Thinking of you Miss Lane,

Hoping it wasn’t all just a dream.

Hugo x

I knew I shouldn’t have been so affected by his words, but I couldn’t help it. I had a major crush on this guy and in a way, I had sort of resigned myself to whatever would result from it. A fling, a heartache, a lifelong relationship; either way I was bound to see it through. I cringed at how his handwriting piqued my curiosity even further. I was desperate to know more about him, to find out if he felt the same way I did. At the same time, there was also a sense of being overwhelmed by my feelings and that made me want to run and hide. As though she could sense a romance afoot, Nicole called into the bakery that morning for a quick chat.

“He is very, you know, ‘old fashioned, with his postcards and calling you ‘Miss Lane’,” she said, sipping a quick espresso at the counter.

“I know, I think that’s what’s making this so unbearably romantic!” I agreed, rather enjoying the drama of it all.

“He still does not say when he’s coming back,” she added, flipping the postcard over in her hand.

I left the statement unanswered and popped some pain au chocolat into a brown paper bag for her to take back to the salon.

“You busy today?” I said, changing the subject.

“Super busy, but I wanted to tell you that Johnny is playing in Nostalgie on Thursday night, so you have to come, yes?”

“Oh great, but I won’t be able to drink,” I said, which garnered a puzzled look from Nicole. “I’m not drinking because I refuse to squat over a hole in the ground every time I need the loo!”

Laughing hysterically she added, “Ah my Irish friend, you do make me laugh,” and left the bakery giggling to herself, with her pastries under her arm.

Mme Moreau was at the specialist that afternoon for her arthritis, so for the first time I was left in charge of the bakery. It felt wonderful. This was what I had imagined when I left for Paris all those weeks ago. Once again I brought down my own stereo and played my Django Reinhardt cd, which I had completely fallen in love with, and served the customers in an efficient yet relaxed manner. I felt completely in control and I so enjoyed being my own boss and not having Mme Moreau’s constant presence like a long shadow over me.

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