The next morning, she felt a bit shy with him; but he was relaxed and easy. ‘Are you up for a lot of walking?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘Bring it on.’
After a breakfast of excellent coffee and the best croissants she’d ever had in her life, he took her to the Tuileries and they wandered through the pretty gardens. ‘I know this is a bit touristy, but we can’t miss it.’
‘With you being a glass fiend, you’re going to show me the pyramid at the Louvre, right?’ she guessed.
He laughed. ‘Not just the one everyone knows about in the courtyard. This is a bit of a whistlestop tour. I hope you don’t mind.’
‘No. It’s fabulous,’ she said, meaning it.
They walked through the museum itself, and Grace was stunned to come across pieces of art she’d known about for years, just casually dotted through the building. It didn’t seem quite real, and she pinched herself surreptitiously.
And then Roland took her to the other pyramid.
‘And this is what I love, here. The perfect symmetry of glass,’ he said with a grin, and took a selfie of the two of them on his phone, standing under the inverted pyramid with a rainbow of light shining across their faces.
‘You and your glass,’ she teased.
From the Louvre, they walked to the Place des Vosges. ‘It’s the oldest planned square in the city,’ he told her. ‘Victor Hugo lived here when he wrote Les Misérables.’
It was utterly beautiful: a terrace of redbrick houses with tall windows and blue-tiled roofs, and little arcades running along the bottom storey. Grace was enchanted, and even more so when they wandered through more of the Marais district. ‘This is lovely,’ she said. ‘All cobbled streets and medieval crooked lanes.’
‘It’s how Paris was before Napoleon razed most of it and built all the wide avenues and huge squares,’ Roland said. ‘What I like about it is the way you’ve got old-fashioned boulangeries mixed in with art galleries and wine shops and jewellery designers.’
‘You could just lose yourself here,’ she said.
He nodded. ‘It’s the best way to explore.’
They ended up at Place du Marché-Ste-Catherine, a cobblestoned square with pretty plane trees and lots of cream-coloured four-storey eighteenth-century houses. On three sides of the square there were little cafés with parasols and sunshades on; there were wrought iron benches in the centre, and a couple of buskers playing Bach on the violin.
‘Time for lunch,’ Grace said. ‘And I’m going to order for us. Even though it’s a long time since I’ve spoken French.’
‘Sure you don’t want me to help?’
‘Nope. I’m going outside my comfort zone,’ she said. ‘And I’ve got you to thank for making me that brave.’
‘OK,’ he said. ‘Allons-y.’
* * *
Grace’s schoolgirl French was just about up to ordering two coffees and quiche, though she had to resort to sign language and a lot of smiling to order the lamb’s lettuce salad, and Roland couldn’t help smiling. Grace was oh, so sweet. And wandering through one of the prettiest districts of Paris with her had soothed his soul.
He’d called her a beautiful star, the night before. And even in the daytime she seemed lit up. He loved the fact that she was throwing herself into the whole Parisian experience, enjoying every single moment and sharing his delight in the glorious architecture. And a corner of his heart that he’d thought would stay heavy for ever suddenly seemed lighter, just because she was with him. But he knew she wanted someone who wouldn’t let her down. His track record wasn’t good enough. Falling in love with Grace Faraday wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
That evening, they had dinner in the Michelin-starred hotel restaurant—another treat he knew she’d enjoy as much as he did—and then he took her to the Eiffel Tower. ‘This is the best way to see Paris by night,’ he said, ‘with all the streets lit up.’
He showed her the broad boulevards radiating outwards; the River Seine was like a black silk ribbon with its bridges lit up. ‘This is the Champ de Mars,’ he said, showing her the south side of the tower, ‘with the military school at the end.’ He pointed out the shiny gold dome of the Hôtel des Invalides, and the Trocadéro gardens.
‘This is amazing,’ she said. And, to his shock, she threw her arms round him and kissed him.
Time seemed to stop.