Page 38 of Never Too Late
My daughter wrinkled her forehead. ‘Who’s Frank Bruno?’
Sasha did her best but the truth was, nothing less than professional stage make-up was going to hide the blooming disaster of matching black eyes I was now sporting.
‘Can you ask Ashok to postpone it?’
‘This isn’t going to go overnight and I can’t imagine he’s here for long.’ I twiddled my neat bob that was someway between chin and shoulder – a sensible style, like everything else about me these days – and longed for the thick mane I’d had the last time I was here, not least to help cover some of my face in a chic, Veronica Lake look.
‘True. What are you going to do?’
I shrugged. ‘I either cancel and not see Ashok, which would be a shame, or brazen it out.’
We exchanged a look.
‘I know,’ I said, reading the expression she was trying her hardest to hide. ‘Brazening anything out is not exactly my style.’
‘I didn’t say anything.’
‘You didn’t have to,’ I replied with a wry smile. ‘I’ve spent a lifetime reading your face.’
‘It’s not that I don’t think you can do it. I just know you’d rather not,’ Sash said.
‘Very true. But here we are.’
Sash covered what she could with a thick layer of foundation and concealer and we headed over to the market. The clear skies of yesterday had been swapped out for overcast ones but Sash insisted that wearing the sunglasses she handed me was a good idea.
‘You’ll just look chic and mysterious.’
Chic was pushing it in my caterpillar coat but I liked the sound of mysterious. It made me feel more interesting than I had in decades.
As it was, once we got to the market, I forgot about everything but the fabulous array of foodstuffs laid out on stall after stall under the cover of the bridge of the Metro that rumbled above. Sash was in heaven, filming it all, and, although she didn’t think I noticed, I knew she’d snuck a couple of shots of me asking about some fish and buying some vegetables for a ratatouille I planned on making for dinner tomorrow night. Caught up in the excitement of it all, I let it slide. The glasses she’d lent me were oversized and I’d draped a pale-pink scarf around my neck, covering a little of the bland polyester. Admittedly, it would take a lot more than a pretty scarf to salvage this outfit but it was a start.
* * *
‘Hi, it’s Ashok.’ His voice came through the intercom for the apartment and a warm feeling of familiarity rushed through me on hearing it.
‘Hi! I didn’t realise you were coming in person. Come up!’ I buzzed him in and went to the door to greet him. ‘Ashok’s here.’ I turned to Sash, who was just grabbing her bag to go out.
‘Oh, great! I thought I was going to miss him.’
I opened the door ajar and moments later, our friend’s handsome face peeked around it. ‘Bonsoir!’ His eyes met mine. ‘Holy shit!’ He pulled me into a hug. ‘Are you OK? What happened?’
‘I slipped in the bath. Oh, it’s so good to see you! I can’t believe you’re here.’
‘I know. I was so hoping you’d be free. It feels like so long since Goa but what is it, two months? Is that right?’
‘About that. And now I’m here in Paris and it’s all your fault!’ I laughed then hugged him again. ‘Come and sit down while I finish getting ready.’
Sash rushed into the room and a hug. ‘Ashok! I didn’t think I was going to get to see you!’
‘A fleeting visit but so long as I get a hug, I’ll call it a win. Katherine said you were meeting some fellow YouTubers?’
‘Yes. I’m a bit nervous, to be honest.’
‘Are you?’ I asked. She hadn’t mentioned that to me but then, as I’d discovered on our holiday, Ashok had a way of drawing out people’s secrets.
‘Yeah, a little.’ She scrunched up her face. ‘What if they don’t like me? Or don’t think I’m as… I don’t know, sophisticated as they are. I don’t want to look like an idiot.’
I pulled her into a hug then stood her back, my hands holding hers. ‘I highly doubt any of that. If they do think that, then they aren’t worth knowing in the first place. You are brilliant, beautiful and strong. That’s all you need to know.’
