The Little Paris Patisserie

He didn’t quite roll his eyes but he might as well have. ‘It’s at the top of the steps halfway along the corridor. Bloody stupid place to have it, which is why this building needs completely remodelling. And once you’ve done that, find out from Marcel if there’s anywhere nearby to get the batteries. Go buy some eggs and get back here pronto.’ Sebastian’s mouth tightened and with it came the familiar expression of dissatisfaction.

Nina came face to face with Marcel, whose mouth appeared to have permanently pursed like a prune – funnily enough, much like Sebastian’s – lurking in the corridor beyond the door at the top of the steps.

‘I need to take a look at the pantry.’

‘I wouldn’t bother,’ said Marcel. ‘It’s empty.’

‘Empty?’

‘Yes. The previous owner sold everything.’

‘Everything?’ She was starting to sound like a gormless parrot.

‘To a woman who was opening a patisserie school in Lille. She came with her campervan. Took everything.’

With a heart sinking faster than a lead balloon, she crossed to the pantry doors and flipped on the light switch. Shelves dusted with flour lay bare and forlorn, outlines of what was once there imprinted into the floury surfaces. Turning, she opened the double-doored fridge. Empty shelves mocked her.

‘Shit!’ She’d hoped that the basics would be there as Sebastian had assumed. Sebastian was going to have a cow. The shopping list was going to be huge and she didn’t have a clue how she was going to carry it all. She could hardly ask him for any help and Marcel, even if he’d been the least bit willing, needed to be at the shop. And there was no one to ask for help. Nibbling at her lip, Nina suddenly wished that her helpful family wasn’t quite so far away.

Her shoulders drooped and she closed the doors slowly.

‘Perhaps this might be of some use.’ Marcel pulled one of those old lady, brightly-coloured shopping trolleys from out of the corner of the pantry.

Nina took a minute to take a few deep even breaths, chasing away the threatening tears, before going back into the kitchen.

‘I’m popping out to get some eggs and batteries,’ she said, keeping her voice bright and cheerful.

‘Can’t Marcel go?’ asked Sebastian, looking up from his laptop.

‘He needs to be in the patisserie.’

‘Why? Don’t tell me there’s actually a customer in there? I’m surprised the place hasn’t closed down already.’

‘Erm … yes, there are a couple,’ she lied.

‘Well hurry up, I didn’t intend to be here this long.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Good job I brought my laptop, I can work on the important stuff.’ He was already pulling out his phone and tapping the screen. ‘Yeah, Mike. Have the lights been delivered yet? The sparkies booked for tomorrow?’

He’d tuned her out, which was as well as it meant she didn’t have to tell him the full extent of the bare shelves. It would be yet another black mark against her which was so unfair. He had no idea what a state the kitchen had been in and how hard she’d worked to get it ship-shape. He was a bastard. A complete and utter unfeeling git with absolutely no redeeming qualities whatsoever.

Did she really need to do this? Was it worth it? It was supposed to be a means to an end, but now she wasn’t so sure. Especially not after his scathing observation that it took years to become a pastry chef. She wasn’t completely naïve, she knew that, but she’d hoped being here would at least help her make a start. Suddenly Nina wasn’t so sure that coming to Paris had been such a good idea after all.

*

Thank goodness for Doris, as Nina had named the granny trolley Marcel had given her, officially her best friend, saviour and heroine, despite one slightly wonky wheel. Given that the pantry was Mother Hubbard bare, she’d decided to double up on Sebastian’s quantities on his list. She felt rather pleased with this efficiency, even if it did mean that poor Doris was positively creaking under the weight of what felt like several tons of flour, caster sugar, icing sugar, butter and eggs. (Thankfully, in a rare moment of solidarity, Marcel had sorted out the batteries for her.)

Bugger Sebastian. He had his laptop and his phone, he could carry on working in the kitchen, so she allowed herself to enjoy the sunshine and being away from the stress of the kitchen as she ambled down the street heading back towards the patisserie, taking her time staring in the windows of the nearby shops, a pet shop, a haberdasher with a striking display of three beautiful cable knitted jumpers, a bicycle shop and a florist.

The colourful display of flowers made her stop in her tracks and smile. Pink and yellow roses had been arranged in pretty posies, there were little silver pots of grape hyacinths decorated with lilac bows and a bucket packed with her favourite alstroemeria in pale pink, deep red and purple. A few steps past the florist and she stopped and turned back. A couple of bunches of flowers would brighten up the kitchen and the patisserie no end but there was no way she could handle them and the trolley. The little silver pots, however, she could manage and they would look cute on the tables and they would please her if no one else. Limited as he was to the kitchen, Sebastian would never know. With six bought and just about balanced in the top of the trolley, Nina set off again.

It was when the wonky wheel decided to veer one way, as she was hauling the trolley the other, that she realised she’d overloaded herself a pot of flowers too far. Wrestling with it pushed her slightly off balance and, with horrible inevitability, one of the silver pots started to take a nose-dive out of the trolley, darn it, when she was at the junction literally across the road from the patisserie. As she made a lunge forward grabbing it with cricket-fielding accuracy that would have ensured a shout of triumph from any one of her brothers, she let go of the trolley, which started to tip forward, unbalanced by the extra weight at the front.

‘Whoa!’ A girl appeared from nowhere and snatched the trolley’s handle as it was about to land and with a triumphant flourish pulled it upright, with a big grin. ‘Blimey, what have you got in here? Half a quarry?’ she asked in a very loud Brummy accent.

‘With rocks and everything, yes,’ said Nina, with a laugh, struggling to get hold of the flowers. ‘You’re English.’

‘Just a tad. Although I thought this beret made me blend in.’ She patted the bright red hat perched on her dark curls.

Nina eyed her sturdy frame and the belted trench coat before looking down at her footwear.

‘I think the Crocs might have given the game away,’ she said gravely, pinching her lips together.

The other girl burst into laughter. ‘They are so thoroughly English, aren’t they? No self-respecting French woman would wear anything this practical.’

Nina thought they might be Australian or American but from what she’d seen so far of French women, she was inclined to agree. She couldn’t imagine either Marguerite or Valerie de what’s-her-name being seen dead in the plastic rubbery shoes.

‘I stubbed my toe, think I might have broken the bugger. These are the only things I can wear. I was hoping that rocking the Audrey Hepburn look up top might stop people looking down below.’

Nina struggled to keep her face straight.

‘I’m not rocking the Audrey Hepburn look either, am I?’

Nina shook her head very slowly as if they might lessen the offence. ‘Sorry. No. But thanks for your help. You’ve no idea what a disaster that could have been. I’ve got three dozen eggs in there.’

Together, they pulled matching horrified eek faces. ‘Can you imagine?’

‘Uh! Scrambled eggs.’ The other girl shook her head with the dark curls bouncing up and down like enthusiastic puppies, as they grinned at each other.

‘Which along with the flour, sugar and icing sugar would have been a recipe for disaster.’

‘Instant cake,’ she teased, amusement dancing in her eyes. ‘Who doesn’t love cake though?’

‘Mm, and instant unemployment for me. Thank you, you’ve saved my bacon.’

‘No problem, I’m Maddie by the way.’

‘Nina.’

‘Have you got far to go?’

Nina shook her head. ‘Over there.’ She pointed to the patisserie on the other side of the street.

‘Oh, I’ve been meaning to go in there. Is it any good?’

‘To be honest, I’m not sure it is, but don’t tell anyone I said that.’

‘Let me give you a hand. I’ll carry the flowers and leave the eggs to you. So you work there?’

‘Sort of.’ Nina explained the whole story and told Maddie all about the patisserie course as they walked along in tandem.

‘How exciting. I’m a terrible cook. I’m more of a hearty stews and nursery puddings sort of girl.’

‘You should do the course,’ said Nina, hauling the trolley along, thinking about how long it was going to take her to unload this lot.

‘What a brilliant idea.’

‘Oh no, I didn’t mean it.’ She must stop saying that. It had been an off the cuff remark. She was recruiting new candidates quicker than people ate hot dinners. Sebastian was not going to be happy. ‘It starts tomorrow, so probably a bit—’

‘Perfect, I don’t have lectures tomorrow. And do you know what? It will impress the hell out of Mum. I could make her half-yearly birthday cake.’

Nina raised both eyebrows at the interesting statement.

Maddie laughed. ‘We celebrate half-yearly birthdays. We like cake in our house. Although they normally come from Tesco. I once attempted apple pie. Let’s say all of the words burnt, irrevocably moulded and knackered applied to the saucepan at the end. It had to go in the bin.’

By the time Nina was lifting the trolley up the step into the patisserie with Maddie’s assistance, the other girl was already musing out loud what sort of cake she’d make when she went home.

‘It might be a bit late to book for the course,’ said Nina.

‘Oh, no worries,’ said Maddie.

Nina heaved a tiny sigh of relief. God knows what Sebastian would have said about an extra student, especially if he heard she’d suggested it.

‘I’ll just turn up tomorrow morning, if there’s no space, no probs.’

Chapter 9

‘We’ll leave in five minutes, are you all done?’ asked Sebastian barely looking up from his hunched position over his laptop as she walked back in still trying to manage the wayward trolley, which definitely had ideas of its own. With one leg hooked over a chair and working sideways onto the bench, he looked extremely uncomfortable.

‘Actually,’ said Nina, busying herself unloading the eggs, grateful that he seemed absorbed in his work, ‘I need to … erm, perhaps set up another work station, you know … in case anyone else turns up.’ There was a loaded silence and she thought for a moment that she might have got away with it. No chance. He looked up from his laptop with a suspicious frown. ‘Run that by me again.’

‘Well, you know…’

‘No.’

Nina risked peeking up to find his eyes boring into her. Feeling self-conscious, she rubbed the back of her calf with her foot, doing her best not to look shifty.

‘Oh, for Pete’s sake, Nina!’

Nina winced. ‘I didn’t do it on purpose, I … well, I mentioned it to an English girl I met and she was really keen and…’

‘And you didn’t think to tell her the course was full or anything,’ he snarled with such feeling, Nina couldn’t think what to say. Surely it wasn’t that big a deal.

‘For fuck’s sake,’ he snapped and snatched up his crutches. ‘I’ve had enough of this. Call a cab. I’ll be outside.’

As soon as he’d gone, she blinked hard. No, not going to cry. He was not worth it, he was a pig but he was not going to make her cry. She hated him. How had she ever imagined herself in love with such an arrogant, rude, bad-tempered, surly, rude, opinionated, rude, pig?

The taxi journey back to the hotel was completed in absolute silence, with Sebastian in the back seat again. Nina spent the forty-five-minute ride with a fixed gaze out of the window, mentally packing her bags. She didn’t need this. As soon as she’d helped Sebastian up to his room, she’d be hightailing it to his apartment and getting the hell out of Dodge. He could find someone else to help him.

Her shoulder ached where the stop start of the hideous traffic threw her against the seatbelt. It was official, Parisian traffic was horrendous. The time in the car, which seemed to be going more slowly than regular time, seemed to have propagated the tense silence between her and Sebastian still further and was worsened by the driver’s kamikaze tendencies as he lurched forward to take advantage of every space that opened up before ramming on his brakes inches from the bumper in front. It was a relief when he slammed to a halt outside the hotel, having crossed three lanes of traffic in one quick, last-minute swerve.

Sebastian handed over a fifty-euro note and manoeuvred himself painfully slowly out of the back as Nina waited with his crutches. The driver let out a torrent of French as Sebastian began hopping into the hotel.

‘Don’t you want the change?’ asked Nina, realising that the taxi driver was claiming he didn’t have enough change.

‘No,’ growled Sebastian not even turning around.

She shrugged at the driver, picked up Sebastian’s laptop bag and followed him, glaring at his back and muttering under her breath. She was so out of here. Rude bastard, not even waiting for her. He was already halfway to the lift.

He dropped a crutch as he fumbled for the lift button and cursed vehemently. Nina sighed under her breath, amazed that it was possible for him to be even more bad-tempered.

When she picked it up and handed it to him, he almost snatched it from her hand. Biting her tongue, she kept her face impassive. Only ten more minutes. Ten more minutes before she walked out of here and never had to see him again. All she had to do was accompany him in the lift, open the door for him, give him his laptop – and the jury was out as to whether she might wrap the bloody thing round his head – say goodbye and leave. She’d had it with him. He was on his own from now on.

As soon as the lift doors opened, he was off, his crutches rattling as he ploughed his way straight to the room with his head ducked down as he waited for her to catch up and put the key card in the slot.

‘Thanks,’ he growled. ‘See you tomorrow.’ And he was off without a backward look.

For a moment Nina stood, clenching her hands into fists. How dare he treat her like this? Ungrateful git. Yes, she’d made a couple of mistakes today, but no one had died and everything was ready for tomorrow. She might not be perfect but she deserved better and she shouldn’t let him get away with this. Simmering fury began to bubble up. It took a lot to make her mad. She didn’t like confrontation but … this time she had nothing to lose. Sod it.

She marched three full strides down the hallway of the suite into the lounge. There was no sign of Sebastian but anger propelled her towards his bedroom where she heard one of the crutches clatter to the ground.

Pushing open the door with an angry shove, she was about to call his name when the sight of him stopped her dead in the doorway.

He’d collapsed onto the bed, laying diagonally across it, one arm flung over his face. She paused as he let out a low moan. All the bubbling anger, threatening to explode, leeched away in an instant. Stupid, stupid, stupid man. Now she could see the pallor of his face, the tight jaw where his teeth were gritted, the reluctant movement of his lower half.

‘Sebastian?’

He stilled.

‘Are you…?’

‘Go away.’ His voice was gruff and he kept his face hidden behind his arm.

Yeah right, as if she was going to leave him in this state. She crossed to the bedside table where she could see a couple of boxes of tablets.

Nina narrowed her eyes and took a more careful study of him. He was holding himself very still and he’d definitely turned even greyer. The stupid sod was trying to be brave. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d still be in pain but then she’d never broken anything.

‘How much pain are you in?’

The answering silence told her enough.

‘Sebastian?’ her voice was gentle.

‘Yes?’ He lifted his arm and looked up at her, as wary as a small boy caught out in a lie. There was a suspicious watery glint in his eyes.

For a moment, she felt racked with guilt, he looked so beaten and vulnerable. It was horribly disquieting when he’d never seemed anything but invincible.

‘When was the last time you had any painkillers?’ Occasionally having brothers paid off. All four of them had played rugby and shunned painkillers. It was a man thing. Jonathon had broken his leg once and had moaned continuously about how itchy the cast was until her mum gave him a knitting needle.

Sebastian lifted his chin looking mutinous. ‘A while ago.’ Now she could see the chalky whiteness around his mouth and the tension in his body.

‘Are these them?’

He nodded, wincing as he did so.

‘When was the last time you took one?’ she asked again.

‘Breakfast.’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake.’ She hid her worry in the chiding tone as she snatched up the pack of tablets. ‘How many are you allowed to have?’

‘Two every four to six hours but they’re very strong. They make me feel like hell.’

‘And being in pain is preferable?’ snapped Nina, cross with him now. No wonder he’d been so bad-tempered all day.

Sebastian didn’t say anything but shook his head weakly, his eyes closed, and suddenly she realised how completely helpless he was and how much pain he must be in. Popping a couple of pills from the blister pack, she bustled into the bathroom to get him some water, giving herself a wry look in the mirror. Subdued Sebastian was a lot easier to deal with, but it wasn’t nice seeing him like this and she knew he wouldn’t want her pity either.

‘What did the hospital say about after care?’ she asked, as she put the glass of water and tablets down. She needed to get him sitting upright to give him the pills.

‘Rest. Keep it elevated.’ His flat tone suggested that he knew he’d been an idiot and he didn’t need her to reinforce it.

‘Right. Can I help you to get more comfortable? If you sit up, I can arrange the pillows and then put some under your leg to raise it a bit. Then painkillers.’

Sebastian gave her a bleak look and the grim line of his mouth wavered. When he blinked with a weak nod as if he was too exhausted to speak, she moved forward and started shifting pillows.

‘Do you think you can lift yourself up?’ she asked.

‘Give me a minute. Sorry, that car journey…’

She didn’t say the obvious – and being on your feet all afternoon and not taking any medication.

Once he was nestled into the pillows and had taken the painkillers, she spoke again. She’d been trying to keep things strictly impersonal but she wanted to make him comfortable.

‘Do you want me to take your shoe off?’

He gave her a baleful glare.

Now she rolled her eyes. ‘Look Sebastian, accept that you need help.’ Moving to the other side of the bed, she unlaced his black brogue and eased it off. ‘See, that wasn’t so hard was it? I’m here. Able and willing. I haven’t got any other plans for the rest of the evening. Why don’t you have a sleep? And then I can order room service later.’

He nodded and closed his eyes, which she took as a small triumph. At least he was listening to sense, although she suspected that was more because he’d given up trying to fight the pain. For a moment, she stood over him fighting the urge to smooth his hair from his forehead and a strangely insistent impulse to press a quick kiss there.

With a start, she felt his hand slip into hers but he didn’t open his eyes. With a gentle squeeze of her fingers, he whispered, ‘Thanks Nina.’

Pulling the door to, she went into the suite. There was no way she could leave him in the lurch now. She could have kicked herself for not realising how much discomfort he was in. No wonder he was so damned irritable. Despite saying he didn’t need a carer, he clearly did need someone around to look after him.

Pursing her lips, she pulled out the notes he’d prepared in readiness for the next day. According to the recipes they were going to be making choux pastry, crème pâtissière, chocolate profiteroles and coffee éclairs. Her mouth watered, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten for quite a while, but she decided to wait another hour before ordering anything, then when it arrived she’d wake him up.

The discreet knock at the door signalled the arrival of room service. Nina had played it safe for Sebastian and herself and ordered both of them burgers and chips. Peeping in on Sebastian as she went to open the door, she found him still sound asleep. For a moment she studied him. In sleep his face had softened, the dark hair flopped down over his forehead and his mouth relaxed. He looked much younger, more like the Sebastian she remembered and she was horrified at the unexpected ping of her heart. Quickly she turned and headed towards the door, almost wrenching it open.

‘Someone’s hungry,’ teased a laughing Scot’s brogue.

‘Alex, hi. You do room service?’

He grinned at her. ‘Normally no, but the staff are primed to let me know if Sebastian needs anything and if I’m around, I pop up. How is he?’

Nina grimaced as she backed up to let him in with the tray. ‘Not great, to be honest. Silly idiot has overdone it today.

‘Sounds like Bas. Complete workaholic.’

Nina raised an eyebrow. ‘And you’re a slacker?’

‘I’m not like him. He’s driven.’ Alex shrugged. ‘I work hard—’ his cheeks dimpled ‘—and play hard, but man, he’s super motivated. Determined to prove his dad wrong.’

Nina frowned as she followed Alex into the suite where he deposited the tray on the dining table overlooking the window and pulled back the curtain to peer out at the lights of Paris shining in the dark.

‘I don’t remember his dad, I’m not sure I ever saw him but then that’s not surprising. Sebastian seemed to spend all his time at our house. Mum gave him free reign in the kitchen when she realised he could cook better than she could. It was always a bit of trial for her, she found cooking for four palate-indifferent, human dustbins a bit monotonous. At that age my brothers weren’t terribly fussy and quantity over quality counted every time.’

‘Sebastian’s dad is…’ Alex trailed to a halt. ‘Bas! Brought your supper up for you, you lazy sod. Sleeping on the job, I hear.’

‘You try getting around on crutches. Bloody knackering.’ Nina turned. Sebastian stood in the doorway looking marginally better – but they were talking the slenderest of margins. ‘What’s on the menu?’

‘Burger and chips.’ Nina gave a self-deprecating shrug. ‘I wasn’t sure what you’d want.’

‘Perfect. Thanks.’

She noticed he moved very slowly as he moved across the room as if he’d used up all his energy earlier in the day and still wasn’t fully recharged. How would he feel if she suggested he ate and went back to bed? She caught Alex’s eye who frowned as he watched Sebastian’s laboured progress.

‘Dear God, it’s like watching the walking dead. Good job I upped your chip ration.’

Nina noticed that despite Alex’s teasing words, he was casually helping Sebastian to sit down and taking charge of his crutches. She picked up the tray of food, took off her plate and handed it to Sebastian to eat on his lap.

‘More bloody chips are the last thing I need. You’ll be able to use me as the ball when I get back to playing five-a-side again.’

‘It’s alright, we’ll stick you in goal,’ said Alex, stealing a chip and throwing his lanky frame onto the opposite sofa. He looked as if he could eat chips all day without any problems.

Nina rolled her eyes as she sat down next to him, perching her plate on her lap.

‘I saw that,’ said Alex kicking off his shoes, pinching another chip and making himself comfortable.