The old man scratches at his beard with a miniature Eiffel Tower. ‘Hmm. That’s one way of looking at it.’
‘Is it the right way or the wrong way?’
‘Well … that’s not for me to say.’
I groan loudly, and he laughs again, his blue eyes sparkling. ‘You’ll figure it out,’ he says. ‘Just give it time. And speaking of time … I’m afraid ours is up.’
He taps his watch and glances behind me.
I turn to see Alice approaching, and as I turn back, the watch-seller is delivering an enthusiastic sales pitch to a passing couple in what sounds like perfect French.
I slip the snow globe into my jacket pocket just as Alice reaches my side.
‘Sorry about that,’ she sighs, dropping her phone back into her bag. ‘My boss won’t even leave me alone on bloody Christmas Day. I’m the only one in the office next week, so there’s tons to do. Anyway …’
She loops her arm through mine, just like she did all those years ago when we were heading to the maze. The watch-seller breaks out of his sales pitch to shoot me one last crumpled, twinkly grin.
‘Come on, then,’ Alice says. ‘We’re going to be late for our next stop.’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
We are late.
We arrive at the tiny Champo cinema on Rue des Écoles almost ten minutes after the film has started. We edge our way down the aisle towards the only free seats, muttering ‘Excusez-moi’ and ‘Je suis desolé’ at the disgruntled people standing up for us.
The cinema screen is lined with tinsel, and it’s showing the same film we saw first time round: a schlocky Christmas romcom called The Holiday, starring Cameron Diaz. As we sit down, I remember that it’s dubbed into French, so I’m expecting to pick up exactly as little of it as I did originally.
‘Shit, sorry, I thought it was subtitled,’ Alice whispers. She nudges my elbow. ‘Good practice for your French, though, right?’
‘Yeah, exactly. No worries.’
I sit there in the darkness watching Jude Law gabble incomprehensibly in someone else’s voice, my hand almost touching Alice’s on the armrest. I remember so clearly how excited I felt at this moment the first time around. It wasn’t only the mystery agenda; it was also the fact that this was starting to feel like a proper date, rather than two old friends spending Christmas together because they didn’t have anyone else.
The difference this time, though, is that Daphne and I aren’t on a break. We’re married. We might be in a bad place in 2020, but we’re still together. Did I think about her at this moment originally? I must have done, surely. She’s out there, in New York, at this very instant. I wonder if she’s thinking about me too.
Alice interrupts this train of thought by nudging my arm. ‘Are you following what’s going on?’ she whispers.
‘Yeah, yeah. Totally.’
She cups a hand round my ear. ‘Cameron and Kate Winslet have done a house swap, and now Cameron fancies Jude Law, who is Kate’s brother.’
I can feel her breath tickling my skin, and despite everything, certain parts of my body begin reacting fairly predictably. That was another reason this moment felt so exciting first time round: I was realising just how much I fancied her.
I get the sudden urge to turn my head so that we’re face to face. I could kiss her right now. It scares me how much I want to.
But instead I just nod and whisper, ‘Yep, crystal clear, don’t worry.’
She smiles and turns back to the screen.
After an hour or so, the film finally comes to an end. As we shuffle out, I agree strongly with Alice that it was ‘super romantic’, despite having picked up roughly seven words throughout.
By the time we’re back on the street, it’s freezing cold and the sun is already starting to set. We make our way down to the banks of the Seine, where twinkling red-and-white Christmas lights are strung delicately through every tree along the river.
We walk slowly, side by side, taking it all in. Alice is talking about her job now, and I can’t help cringing slightly as she throws around terms like ‘brand awareness’ and ‘synergy’ with an entirely straight face. She’s definitely much more earnest than she was at uni. I think I was quite impressed by this the first time around: I was swept up by how hot she looked, and how confident and sophisticated she seemed. But now, as she starts venting on her ‘useless’ boss and ‘annoying’ colleagues, I can sense a sharpness – a bitterness – I don’t remember her having before.
I can’t help thinking about Daphne: a superstar at her job, too, and yet still kind and modest and funny.
Alice must read my mind somehow, because she switches tack completely as she pulls out another cigarette. ‘You know, I always thought it was such a shame that you and I lost touch after uni.’
‘Yeah.’ I nod. ‘Me too.’
‘Or even before that, really,’ she says. ‘We did everything together in the first term, and then when you came back after Christmas, it was like things had changed.’
I scratch the back of my neck. ‘I know … I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.’
Alice shrugs. ‘No, it was fair enough, I guess. You and Daphne had just started going out, so you had other stuff going on. I was just sad that we didn’t get to hang out together any more. I … missed you.’ She laughs suddenly, as if to soften the impact of that last statement.
‘I missed you too,’ I tell her, although I’m not sure if it’s out of honesty or politeness. I’m trying desperately to remember if we had this conversation originally,
