Honeymoon in Paris(6)
Author: Jojo Moyes

‘I am yours, you fool.’ I took his face between my hands and kissed him. His skin was wet. ‘I have been yours since the first time you came to La Femme Marché and bought fifteen ridiculous scarves in your determination to see me.’ I kissed him again. ‘I was yours from the moment you told Mistinguett I had the best ankles in Paris, after she tried to humiliate me because I wore clogs.’ I kissed him again. He closed his eyes. ‘I was yours from the moment you drew me and I realized nobody else would ever look at me like you do. As if you saw only the best of me. As if I was someone more magnificent than I knew.’

I took a towel and tenderly rubbed the moisture from his nose and eyes. ‘So, you see? There is nothing to fear. I am yours, Édouard, utterly and completely. I cannot believe you would doubt it.’

He looked at me, and his big brown eyes were steady and oddly determined. ‘Marry me,’ he said.

‘But you always said –’

‘Tomorrow. Next week. As soon as we can.’

‘But you –’

‘Marry me, Sophie.’

So I married him. I never could deny Édouard anything.

The morning after the fight at Bar Tripoli, I slept late. We had become giddy with our riches, eaten and drunk too much, and stayed awake until the small hours, lost in each other’s bodies, or in fits of giggles as we remembered Dinan’s outraged expression. I raised my head blearily from the pillow, and pushed my hair from my face. The small change that had been on the table was missing: Édouard must have gone for bread. I became dimly aware of the sound of his voice in the street below, and let my memories of the previous evening flow and recede in a happy blur. Then, when he did not sound as if he were coming upstairs, I pulled a robe around me and went to the window.

He had two baguettes tucked under his arm and was talking to a striking blonde woman in a fitted dark green coat-dress with a broad-brimmed fur hat. As I looked down, her gaze slid up to me. Édouard, following it, turned and lifted a hand in greeting.

‘Come downstairs, cherie. I want you to meet someone.’

I did not want to meet anyone. I wanted him to come upstairs and for me to wrap my legs around him and smother him in kisses as we ate. But I sighed, pulled the robe around me, and walked downstairs to the front door.

‘Sophie, this is Mimi Einsbacher. An old friend of mine. She has bought several paintings, and posed for some of my life drawings too.’

Another? I thought absently.

‘Congratulations on your marriage. Édouard gave me … no clue.’

There was something about the way the woman looked at me when she said this, her flicker of a glance towards Édouard, that made me uneasy.

‘Enchantée, Mademoiselle,’ I said, and held out my hand. She took it as if she were handling a dead fish.

We stood there, studying our feet. Two road sweepers were working on opposite sides of the street, whistling in tandem. The drains were overflowing again, and the smell, teamed with the amount of wine we had consumed the previous evening, made me feel suddenly queasy.

‘You will excuse me,’ I said, backing into the doorway. ‘I am hardly dressed for company. Édouard, I will light the fire and put the coffee on.’

‘Coffee!’ he exclaimed, rubbing his hands. ‘So very good to see you, Mimi. I will come – sorry, we will come and see your new apartment soon. It sounds marvellous.’

He was whistling as he came up the stairs.

While Édouard shed his outer clothes, I poured him a cup of coffee and climbed back into bed. He put a plate between us, broke me off a piece of bread and handed it to me.

‘Did you lie with her?’ I didn’t look at him as I spoke.

‘Who?’

‘Mimi Einsbacher.’

I have no idea why I asked him this; I had never done such a thing before.

He gave a slight shake of his head, as if it were of no consequence. ‘I may have done.’ When I said nothing he opened an eye and looked at me gravely. ‘Sophie, you know I was not a priest before I met you.’

‘I do.’

‘I am just a man. And I was alone for a long time before we met.’

‘I know this too. I would not wish you to be any different from the way you are.’ I turned and kissed his shoulder lightly.

He reached out and pulled me to him, letting out another great sigh of contentment. His breath was warm on my eyelids. He slid his fingers into my hair and tilted my head back so that I was looking at him. ‘My darling wife. You need only remember this: I never knew happiness until I knew you.’

What should I care for Mimi and her ilk? I thought, as I dropped my bread and slid my leg across him, breathing in his scent, taking possession of him yet again. They were no threat to me.

I almost convinced myself.

Mimi Einsbacher just happened to be passing as we came out of the studio the following Wednesday (I was rushing to la poste to send a letter to my sister); it made sense for Édouard to have breakfast with her. What was the point in him eating alone? And then again, two days later. It was a cold November day, and Édouard was placing my good felt hat on my head as I pulled open the huge oak door that led onto rue Soufflot. I was laughing and batting away his hands. ‘You have it back to front! Édouard! Stop! I will look like a madwoman!’ His great hand rested on my shoulder where it met my neck. I loved the weight of it.

‘Why, good morning!’ Mimi was dressed in a mint green cape and fur stole. Her waist was pulled in so tightly that I suspected her lips were blue under the red stain. ‘What a happy surprise!’

‘Madame Einsbacher. How fortunate we are to see again you so soon.’ My hat felt suddenly skewed and ridiculous on my head.

‘Mimi! How delightful.’ Édouard released my shoulder, bent his head and kissed her gloved hand. I protested inwardly at the sight, and then chided myself: Don’t be childish. Édouard chose you, after all.

‘And where are you off to this brisk morning? Back to the post office?’ She held her bag neatly in front of her. It was crocodile skin.

‘I have an appointment in Montmartre with my dealer. My wife is off to buy us some food.’ I turned the hat around on my head, wishing suddenly I had worn my black one. ‘Well, I might,’ I said. ‘If you behave yourself.’

‘See what I endure?’ Édouard leant forwards to kiss my cheek.

‘Goodness. She’s very hard on you, I am sure.’ Mimi’s smile was unreadable.