Shrugging deeper into my coat, I took in the spectacle in front of me, the famous red windmills of the Moulin Rouge. At night the red neon lit up the façade and people streamed past, stopping to take photos. The red-light district was a must-see, Clementine said, and I was happy to escape the apartment and leave the pressure and worry behind. Kathryn joined us and they reminisced about their days as perfumery students.
‘We used to get into so much trouble,’ Clementine laughed. ‘But somehow we always got good marks.’
‘You were sleeping with the teacher!’ Kathryn admonished. ‘That’s why you got good marks.’
She laughed. ‘So I’m gifted in the boudoir, who are you to judge?’
I wasn’t sure if they were serious or not but sleeping with the teacher seemed highly inappropriate to me. Call me a prude, but I’d want to know I was passing on my own merit, not because I was masterly between the sheets. For some inexplicable reason Sebastien popped into my mind. It would be the same, wouldn’t it, if I was interested in him? And not appropriate under the circumstances. As my mentor surely that was a conflict of interest, not to mention he was the owner of the business now, even if he was trying to leave… What a mess this all was! I hated the thought of him making bad choices because of his grief, but not knowing him well enough to tell him so. It had been years since Nan died and I still suffered the fall out with my own perfumery and I missed her so badly, sometimes a memory took me by surprise and had me bawling into my hands all over again.
‘So,’ I said, shaking away the cloud in my mind and trying focus on the moment with the girls. ‘What’s the show about?’
‘It’s art,’ Clementine said. ‘You’ll see. You Americans always focus on les tétons,’ she sighed and cupped her bust. ‘But it’s not about that at all!’
Les tétons could only mean one thing by Clementine’s charade. ‘I’m sure it’s quite the show.’
‘It’s about fashion, dance, art and the women are in charge, do you see?’
‘OK, you don’t have to convince me, Clementine. I’m here aren’t I?’ I really didn’t care one way or the other, I was just glad for a distraction, something that would take my mind away from perfume and all it entailed.
Kathryn sighed and gently bumped me with her hip. ‘I’m just here to forget about the competition for a while. It’s crazy how exhausting it’s been.’
‘Oui,’ Clementine said. ‘And I’m just here for the men. There’s always lots of ’andsome specimens here.’ She waggled her brows suggestively. ‘And champagne.’
‘Champagne, now you’re talking!’ I said, and laughed. The two girls could not have been more different, and I was glad Kathryn had come along too. If Clementine took a fancy to someone at least I wouldn’t be sitting alone all night. And Kathryn, while still calculating in the competition, seemed like a nice enough person. She took her perfumery seriously, where there were times I thought Clem relied on other methods to get by and perfumery came second to that.
Inside, music played sensually above. We were directed to a table and a bottle of champagne arrived, as waitresses spoke in rapid fire French to Clementine. Kathryn and I exchanged a look and left her to it, pouring ourselves a generous serve of bubbles while we waited for the show to start. Eventually the lights dimmed and we settled back to watch. Soon Clementine was nowhere to be found…
Leaving the Moulin Rouge a few hours later, with the bright gaudy lights flashing behind us, we giggled, zigzagging down the streets of Paris, everything more colourful, louder, and brighter, than before. The show had definitely been an eye-opener, I’d never seen so many feathers! And sequins! The girls were spectacular dancers and the show was arty, rather than sleazy.
Clementine was right, after the first five minutes les tétons and their semi-naked bodies were forgotten and it was more the allure of the dance, the costumes and the performance. Extravagant and burlesque much like Clementine herself.
As we walked home swaying from a little too much liquid happiness, we chatted aimlessly about this and that.
‘Who do you think will win the competition, Del?’ Kathryn asked.
‘Lex, or Lila.’ Champagne should’ve been called truth serum. It was too late to snatch the words back, and I reminded myself I had to be careful around the two girls when it came to talking about other contestants. I couldn’t trust them with any confidences and I worried Clem would home in on Lila if she thought she was a threat. Note to self: don’t drink champagne like water, ever again.
‘Anyway,’ I said brightly. ‘I thought we were having a night off from perfumery!’
I caught the pair exchange a glance before they turned to me, big smiles on their faces. ‘Yes, yes, you’re totally right. So, who wants to have a cocktail at the Ritz?’
‘Oh, look at the time,’ I said. There’s was no chance I was showing my face at the Ritz after the whole running-out-without-paying disaster there. ‘It’s close to curfew, we have to get back.’
‘Oh, look at the little rule follower!’ Clementine said sing-songy.
I rolled my eyes. ‘I don’t want to jeopardize my place.’
I shrugged deeper into my coat, suddenly wanting to escape from the pair. Up ahead, I saw a familiar figure wandering in his particular way, hands in pockets head down contemplating. Clementine and Kathryn hadn’t noticed him, so I begged off, claiming I had calls to make back home. Clementine kept up her volley of teasing but I let the words roll away, and rushed ahead hoping to catch Sebastien who’d turned up a side avenue.
I hurried to find him, hoping the girls wouldn’t notice. The last thing I needed was to arouse suspicion by hanging out with my mentor so close to midnight. But something pulled me toward Sebastien, maybe it was the fact I knew his secret when no one else did.
‘Hey,’ I said, finding him at another late night bar, phone in hand.
‘Del, what are you doing out so late?’
‘Sorry, Dad.’ The damned curfew!
He smiled, and my heart lifted. ‘More rules,’ he said laughing. ‘Crazy, non? What’s the difference if you’re out during the day or night?’
‘I guess they want us level headed, not seedy after burning the candle at both ends.’
He shrugged.
‘What are you doing out so late?’ I spun the question back.
‘Couldn’t sleep. I find it so much harder in Paris to switch off. It’s almost like the busier the city, the busier my mind.’
‘Is that why you love Provence so much?’
He nodded. ‘The fresh air, the lavender fields, olive groves. I could never tire of them.’
‘But you have a company to run, right? So I suppose Provence will have to wait?’ I held my breath.
‘For the next little while.’ His features remained closed off, and I knew I wouldn’t get the truth from him. Why would he confide in me?
‘Why don’t you make your own mark on the perfumery? Get rid of the rules and do it your way?’
He was silent for the longest time, and when he finally glanced at me, his eyes were glassy. ‘It will never be the same without my papa. The magic is lost…’
And I swear I heard my own heart break for him. His need to flee was so evident in every fibre of him…
***
‘No excuses, it’ll do you good,’ Lex said, pushing me to the foot of a staircase with far too many stairs for this time of the morning. We’d taken to meeting up to tour a different patch of Paris for an hour or two if we had the chance, or a break long enough. But it never involved exercise, nor a staircase winding all the way to heaven like Lex was presenting me now.
‘But there’s a perfectly good funicular we could use!’
‘America, what’s three hundred steps in the scheme of things?’
‘Three hundred! Lex, I won’t be able to walk for days after this!’
He laughed, and gave me a gentle nudge. ‘Tell your story walking, America.’
Lex was more nimble than I thought and bounded up the steps like some kind of athlete, I took a much slower pace knowing it’d hit me hard eventually. Runners jogged by barely out of breath and gave me get-out-of-the-way glares.
‘Remind me why we’re doing this?’ I huffed along behind, trying now to stay close to the rail and out of the way of the joggers.
‘It’s one of the best views of Paris. It truly shows you how huge this bustling city is. And Sacré-Coeur is up there too. The artists’ square. The wall of I Love Yous. Cobblestones so big they bite into your shoes. It’s like its own little world, looking down on the sprawl of Paris.’
‘In the funicular I could have seen the view of the city, Lex. Not the view of my own feet.’
‘Ach, America, where’s the fun in that? This way you know you’re alive, your blood is pumping and you worked for the view.’
‘Right.’ I couldn’t speak properly as my breathing grew heavier with each step.
He laughed. ‘So tell me how it’s really going?’ He paused and gave me time to catch up.
‘What?’ I puffed.
‘The competition. You don’t seem to be very friendly with the management team and you’re friendly to everyone, even Clementine when she doesn’t deserve it.’
When I caught up to him, I leaned back on the bannister, my chest heaving. I waited a minute or two to catch my breath. ‘The management team irk me no end,’ I laughed, a little shaken I’d made my feelings for them so obvious. ‘I just feel that for such a romantic business, one so full of whimsy and charm, that they’re so…austere. I mean, I get it’s a business, and it can’t all be fun and games, but they just seem to be at odds with what Vincent set out to do. And OK, Luc mentioned that I was only in the competition as a wildcard, so I’m still smarting over that little tidbit.’
Lex wrinkled his brow. ‘But you’re only a wildcard because you haven’t had professional perfumery training.’
‘Who said my nan wasn’t a professional?’
He tutted. ‘In their eyes, America, professional perfumery training means at an established university, or school. You know that. You’re here because despite that, you’re good, damn good, and they don’t care about where you were taught, just that you know your stuff regardless.’
I hadn’t considered it that way before. ‘Maybe.’
‘They think you’ve got the goods and you’ve been freezing them out.’ He cackled high and loud.
‘Jeez, Lex, do you think they’ve all noticed?’
‘I wouldn’t worry, America. They work for Sebastien at the end of the day… He makes the decisions not them.’
I bit my lip. Not for much longer. As much as I trusted Lex, I couldn’t tell him about what I’d overheard. It didn’t seem right. Lex turned and ran up the next level of stairs.
I trudged slowly behind. I’d been so damn sensitive about being called the wildcard that I hadn’t been able to see past it. Was I making other stupid choices because I lacked confidence in myself? There was Jen, and the issues between us. The more time I spent away from her the less we spoke, but that was life and being busy, right? This whole time I’d been blaming her, but really I had to shoulder half the responsibility too. People change and just because we were twins didn’t mean she had to put me first. Why should she? But there’d always be that piece of my heart that wondered what could have been if only James hadn’t wandered back to Whispering Lakes. And that was OK.
‘Lex,’ I said between heaves. ‘How many more steps?’
‘You don’t want to know.’
There was something strangely healing about my lungs burning, my muscles aching, that gave me the ability see a little more clearly. Not that I’d be hurrying to race up the steps to Montmartre again, not when there was a perfectly good funicular close by.
‘Lex-x-x!’ I called just to annoy him.
‘America, I’ve seen Colombian sloths that are faster than you. Get moving!’
I laughed. ‘There better be a nice big piece of apple tarte tatin waiting at the top for me!’ Exercise would do me good before the big date with Sebastien, the big meeting, the following night. It might help shift some of that nervous energy I had when I was around him.
Later that day I called Jen. She’d been on my mind since my walk in Montmartre with Lex. No two ways about it, I missed her with all my heart, and wondered if I was on her mind as much as she was on mine.
‘Where have you been? I was about to send a search party,’ I said, a classic Nan-ism, and one we’d heard time and again growing up.
‘Aww, sorry, Del. Things have been super crazy! I got your messages but with the time difference and all it’s been hard to catch you. I’ve been so busy I’ve lost track of days.’
The love-struck fool couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep and I secretly hoped she’d be back to normal soon.
‘Why so busy? Extra shifts at Woodfired?’ Jennifer worked a few night shifts at the local pizzeria, and did accounts for a local building company during the day. Often the pizzeria would call her last minute to fill shifts and she always accepted the work in order to save for NYC…but now I wasn’t sure what she was saving for.
‘Yeah, work, and life in general. It feels like a lifetime ago you left and there’s still so much time to go…’
‘If I’m lucky.’ I missed my twin so badly but she was distracted, which was becoming our new normal.
‘You don’t need luck, Del! You’ve got talent.’
I explained about the trouble I had in the first challenge and how my perfume wasn’t as spectacular as I’d hoped, and how competitive some of the contestants were.
‘Are you sure it’s not spectacular? Or is it the pressure talking? That’s the whole point of this adventure, to push you out of your comfort zone, and see where you land. Give yourself more credit, Del.’
‘I wished I’d taken a bigger leap out of my comfort zone. It’s like I am close to figuring out—’
She cut me off. ‘Yeah, I see.’ There was a deep voice in the background, she covered the receiver, and there was some gravelly static before she came back. ‘What were you saying?’
It was hard to gauge her emotions when she was in a different country. ‘You were talking.’ I made my voice bright. ‘How’s Pop?’
Again, there was that voice in the background. Was James, the boyfriend, hovering by her so she was only half listening to me? ‘Pop misses you, we all do, but this is your time to shine,’ she said. ‘I have to run. Love you lots and keep the faith, yeah?’
‘OK, well one other thing…’ But she’d gone. What the hell? Out of sight, out of mind! Or was something wrong back home and she didn’t want to tell me?