“You’re going to go to language classes while you are here?”
“Definitely.” She had no intention of signing up for classes. Not only because she had no money, but because she never wanted to study again in her life. She planned to find a local hair salon that would give her work. Maybe she’d learn a few words there.
“You will work mornings,” Elodie told her, as she showed her around the shop, “and the occasional evening if Etienne is busy.”
“Etienne?”
Elodie led her into the tiny kitchen where they could make tea, and pointed out the cupboard where the first aid kit was kept.
“Etienne is studying French literature at the Sorbonne. He works here evenings, weekends and during the holidays for the past two years. Our regular customers love him.”
Audrey could picture him. Glasses. Slightly pale because he spent too long indoors with only books for company. Probably skinny because books didn’t weigh much and they were the only things he lifted. And superior. He’d look down his nose at someone like her.
She already knew she was going to loathe the saintly Etienne. Any boy whose idea of excitement was spending his evenings working in a bookshop wasn’t her type. He wouldn’t know the first thing about the hottest places to hang out in Paris.
“You have regular customers? So it’s not all tourist trade, then?” She gazed around the shelves. She’d never seen so many books in one place outside a library.
“This bookshop has been here for over a hundred years. It was owned by my great-grandmother and has been in the family ever since. Even during the German occupation of Paris, my grandmother kept it running. She kept all the valuable books hidden.”
“Cool.” Audrey was interested. Hiding things was her specialty. Or it had been until she’d been stupid enough to hide her money inside her bear. She still couldn’t think about that without wanting to cry. All the money she’d saved. Gone. If it hadn’t been for the kindness of all the people in the hair salon, she wouldn’t be here now. When she’d told them what had happened they’d all got together and given her a “leaving present.” Ellen had made a speech and Doris had baked a cake. Then they’d handed her an envelope stuffed with enough notes to cover her ticket to Paris and a few meals. It had been the first and only time in her life that Audrey had cried in public.
She felt a sudden pang. What would they all be doing now?
Her throat thickened and she tried to focus on the bookstore.
“It’s interesting. I like history.” As long as she wasn’t expected to write an essay on it. The past always seemed so much more interesting than the present, which in her life was pretty challenging.
“Let me show you your new home!” Elodie led her to the back of the shop and scooped up a key. “Your parents are happy for you to be in Paris this summer?”
“They’re very supportive.” Audrey looked at the till, wondering how often Elodie counted the money. Not that she intended to steal it exactly. Just borrow enough to tide her over until she found a job. Then she’d put it back. She had no idea how much money she’d need to survive here, but as the area was packed
with tourists she assumed the answer was “a lot.”
“The room is in the eaves. It’s small, but I think you will find it comfortable. When my children were little, they used to fight to sleep up there.”
Audrey hauled her backpack up the narrow staircase and paused by a doorway. “Is this it?”
“You’re on the next floor up. I rent the other apartment for extra income, but for now it is empty. I have two people coming to see it tomorrow. Your apartment is smaller, but you have a view over the rooftops of Paris.”
The rooftops of Paris sounded better than the backstreets of London, which had been her view for the past eighteen years.
By the time they reached the top of the stairs, Audrey was out of breath.
Elodie unlocked the door and handed over the key. “Welcome to your new home.”
“Thanks. I mean, merci.” Audrey followed her inside. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. The single small photo she’d seen had suggested something small and dark, but whoever had taken the photo hadn’t done the place justice. Yes, it was small, but what the photo hadn’t shown was the row of windows and the generous flood of light.
Her spirits lifted and her relief must have shown on her face because Elodie beamed.
“Perfect, no?”
“Totally perfect.”
There was a bed against one wall. Not a narrow bed like the one she had at home but a generous double with an ornate frame that looked like something out of an old French movie. Against one wall was a large sofa, covered in a throw and heaped in cushions.
There was a tiny fridge in the corner of the room, a hot plate and a microwave. Since Audrey didn’t intend to cook anything much, she knew she wouldn’t need more than that.
Toast was her favorite food, and there was a toaster on top of the counter.