Page 43 of One Night With You

Could they Skype do you think?I type into the notes appof my phone, before passing it to Harry sat beside me. He glances down, careful not to appear rude to our lecturer, takes the phone and types back:Nonagenarians on Skype? I just don’t think it will work. Where’s the drama?

Yeah,I type back.But we can hardly get JP to Paris, can we? Or ourselves for that matter …

Harry pulls a face. He’s dissatisfied with my negativity.

‘There has to be another way,’ he declares, on our way out of the lecture hall and towards his car. ‘This is good. This is really, really good. Reunited World War Two lovers in the Twenty-Twenties? That’s like, Hollywood-movie-level storytelling. It’s epic.’

He updated the Instagram during class, telling everyone the latest news. We’ve both got ‘the tingle’ – the spidey senses that let us know we’re on to something big. I have to tell Harry to slow down three times on the drive over.

‘Don’t kill us both before we finish this bloody documentary,’ I say. ‘Or it will have all been for nought.’

When we get to JP’s house though, he’s drinking tea, as is his standard way, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

‘Aren’t you excited?’ Harry says. ‘We’ve found Amelie Renard!’

‘Née Renard,’ JP points out. ‘We don’t know if she took a new name when she married. The great-granddaughter, or niece, or whatever she is, doesn’t know. Breathe deep, lad. We’ve a way to go yet.’

‘That’s true,’ I say. ‘But we’ve asked Instagram now – we’re up to eight hundred followers! And we’ve got a lot we can be googling. We’re getting closer and closer, JP. I’ve got a good feeling about this.’

‘We’ve been doing the same,’ William says. ‘Googling. It’shard. I tried looking for parish records from the area like you said, I even typed in “how to do a family history search”, lol. So this is amazing. I’m almost too excited to concentrate. But now you’re here we can have a cuppa and then take a breath and brainstorm a bit, can’t we? Come up with something strategic, like the librarian idea that got us this far in the first place.’

I take a mini-bow as everyone looks at me, what with that being my idea and all, and then we settle in, Harry and William making tea and JP watching over me as I set up filming equipment.

‘I’m putting this on a time lapse,’ I explain to him. ‘So it won’t record anything we say, just our movements, and then it will speed them up really fast.’

‘And what’s the point in that, then?’ JP asks. ‘More “colour”, as you say?’

‘You’ve got it,’ I say. ‘Texture. We can put something over the top of it – an interview recording – or use it as a stamp to signify time passing, or lots happening very quickly.’

‘Lot to think about, isn’t there?’ he says.

‘I love it,’ I say, and we swap smiles.

‘Right,’ declares Harry, once we’re brewed up and in our usual spots: JP in his armchair, me and Harry on the sofa, and William perched on the footrest. ‘I think we’ll have to go old-school.’

‘Old-school?’ I ask.

‘Get the phone book and dial every number in there until we find her.’

William’s phone pings. ‘Chalamet!’ he cries. We look at him. ‘Married name: Chalamet. The librarian just sent a text. God, she’s good.’

‘Technology,’ JP tuts, shaking his head. ‘The world is in the palm of your hand, isn’t it?’

‘More’s our luck,’ I say. ‘So what’s the next move?’

‘Spend all weekend going through the phone book for every Amelie Chalamet there is and call each one until we find her. That’s my bet,’ William says.

‘I’m in,’ says Harry. ‘Shall we just work from here? JP, is that okay?’

JP waves a hand. ‘We’ll have to move my tarts and vicars party to next weekend,’ he says. ‘But yes, more the merrier.’

‘Ha, ha, JP. I can come as a tart if that helps,’ Harry offers.

‘I’ll hold you to that,’ JP jokes.

Everyone is so motivated and animated that I get carried away for a moment, letting it bubble away inside of me, too, until I remember I’m in London this weekend.

‘You won’t be here,’ says Harry, reading my face. ‘That’s okay. I can get what we need footage-wise. Don’t worry, Ruby.’

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