lad the previous afternoon.
Alice-Miranda shrugged. ‘Oh well, at least we tried.’
Just as she turned to leave, the lock snapped and a woman’s face appeared around the partially open door. She was very pretty, with piercing green eyes and dark hair pulled back off her face.
‘
Bonjour, madame. Mon nom est
Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones and I’m very pleased to meet you.’ The child extended her hand.
The woman looked at her and frowned. Alice-Miranda wondered if she spoke any English at all.
‘My friend and I were wondering if the boy who lives here would like to come with us to the park for a game of basketball,’ Alice-Miranda explained. She gestured towards Sep, who was standing back on the footpath.
The woman shook her head.
‘We’re staying just across the road, at the hotel, and yesterday Sep saw a boy wave to him from the window upstairs so we assumed he lived here.’
‘No, mademoiselle.’ The woman shook her head.
‘But I saw him,’ Sep said. ‘He waved to me from the window on the fifth floor.’
The woman shook her head again, more definitely than before.
Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘Oh well, I am very sorry to have bothered you, madame.’
The woman closed the door.
‘Never mind, it was the thought that counted,’ Alice-Miranda said.
Sep frowned. He turned and looked up at the window. And just the same as yesterday, he could have sworn he saw the curtain move. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘Look up there.’
For a split second there was a face. And then it was gone.
Alice-Miranda turned. ‘I can’t see anything.’
‘He was there, just now. I promise.’ Sep was adamant as he pointed up at the window. ‘Fair enough if he didn’t want to play with us but why would she lie and say there was no one there? Unless I’m going crazy and seeing things.’
‘Or she didn’t understand what I was asking,’ said Alice-Miranda.
‘Why are you two still here?’ Aldous Grump called as he walked across the street towards the children.
‘We were just meeting the neighbours,’ Alice-Miranda told him.
‘Of course you were, young lady.’ Aldous looked at the tiny child with her cascading chocolate curls and brown eyes as big as saucers. ‘And why?’
‘Just trying to make friends.’
Aldous Grump smiled. ‘Now, that I would believe.’
Alice-Miranda slipped her hand into Mr Grump’s and together with Sep they headed for the park.
Adele’s mind was racing. She would never do anything to hurt Christian. He was like a father to her. A very patient father, who coped with all her silly questions and stupid mistakes. But this time she couldn’t believe how foolish she had been. When the man had phoned the atelier last week, he had seemed so helpful. She’d thought he was from the company that had supplied the beautiful vicuna fabric.
‘
Bonjour
, I am calling from Fil d’Or Fabrics,’ he had said. ‘Did you receive your shipment today?’
‘
Oui
, monsieur,’ she’d replied.
‘And is it to monsieur’s liking?’ he’d asked.
‘Very much. The fabric is beautiful.’
‘And very expensive.’
‘
Oui
. I could buy a flat for what it cost,’ she said with a laugh.
‘And you have stored it properly?’
‘Of course, monsieur, it is in the climate-controlled storeroom. Very safe,’ she had blathered.
‘And that is protected by an alarm?’
‘No, monsieur, no alarm, but there is usually someone here.’
‘I should hope so,’ the man had continued.
‘Except when Monsieur Fontaine has dinner with his parents.’
‘What a good man! Dinner with his parents. Twice a week?’
‘Sometimes three. Always a Wednesday and Sunday and sometimes Thursday too. His Mama is very attentive and she worries a lot about her son. We all do. He works far too hard,’ Adele had confided.
‘I am glad it has all worked out so well for Monsieur Christian,’ the man said. And with that he had hung up.
Now she knew that he had just been fishing for information. She
Alice-Miranda shrugged. ‘Oh well, at least we tried.’
Just as she turned to leave, the lock snapped and a woman’s face appeared around the partially open door. She was very pretty, with piercing green eyes and dark hair pulled back off her face.
‘
Bonjour, madame. Mon nom est
Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones and I’m very pleased to meet you.’ The child extended her hand.
The woman looked at her and frowned. Alice-Miranda wondered if she spoke any English at all.
‘My friend and I were wondering if the boy who lives here would like to come with us to the park for a game of basketball,’ Alice-Miranda explained. She gestured towards Sep, who was standing back on the footpath.
The woman shook her head.
‘We’re staying just across the road, at the hotel, and yesterday Sep saw a boy wave to him from the window upstairs so we assumed he lived here.’
‘No, mademoiselle.’ The woman shook her head.
‘But I saw him,’ Sep said. ‘He waved to me from the window on the fifth floor.’
The woman shook her head again, more definitely than before.
Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘Oh well, I am very sorry to have bothered you, madame.’
The woman closed the door.
‘Never mind, it was the thought that counted,’ Alice-Miranda said.
Sep frowned. He turned and looked up at the window. And just the same as yesterday, he could have sworn he saw the curtain move. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘Look up there.’
For a split second there was a face. And then it was gone.
Alice-Miranda turned. ‘I can’t see anything.’
‘He was there, just now. I promise.’ Sep was adamant as he pointed up at the window. ‘Fair enough if he didn’t want to play with us but why would she lie and say there was no one there? Unless I’m going crazy and seeing things.’
‘Or she didn’t understand what I was asking,’ said Alice-Miranda.
‘Why are you two still here?’ Aldous Grump called as he walked across the street towards the children.
‘We were just meeting the neighbours,’ Alice-Miranda told him.
‘Of course you were, young lady.’ Aldous looked at the tiny child with her cascading chocolate curls and brown eyes as big as saucers. ‘And why?’
‘Just trying to make friends.’
Aldous Grump smiled. ‘Now, that I would believe.’
Alice-Miranda slipped her hand into Mr Grump’s and together with Sep they headed for the park.
Adele’s mind was racing. She would never do anything to hurt Christian. He was like a father to her. A very patient father, who coped with all her silly questions and stupid mistakes. But this time she couldn’t believe how foolish she had been. When the man had phoned the atelier last week, he had seemed so helpful. She’d thought he was from the company that had supplied the beautiful vicuna fabric.
‘
Bonjour
, I am calling from Fil d’Or Fabrics,’ he had said. ‘Did you receive your shipment today?’
‘
Oui
, monsieur,’ she’d replied.
‘And is it to monsieur’s liking?’ he’d asked.
‘Very much. The fabric is beautiful.’
‘And very expensive.’
‘
Oui
. I could buy a flat for what it cost,’ she said with a laugh.
‘And you have stored it properly?’
‘Of course, monsieur, it is in the climate-controlled storeroom. Very safe,’ she had blathered.
‘And that is protected by an alarm?’
‘No, monsieur, no alarm, but there is usually someone here.’
‘I should hope so,’ the man had continued.
‘Except when Monsieur Fontaine has dinner with his parents.’
‘What a good man! Dinner with his parents. Twice a week?’
‘Sometimes three. Always a Wednesday and Sunday and sometimes Thursday too. His Mama is very attentive and she worries a lot about her son. We all do. He works far too hard,’ Adele had confided.
‘I am glad it has all worked out so well for Monsieur Christian,’ the man said. And with that he had hung up.
Now she knew that he had just been fishing for information. She
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