From Paris With Love by Desiree Cox Read Free Book Online

again as she felt Etienne so close to her. She had begun to think that last evening had only happened in her dreams and not in reality. Christina grinned across at her conspiratorially.  She had a boyfriend at home and was very pleased to see her sister happy again.
    Etienne took Isabelle’s hand and they all piled into Jean-Luc’s Renault for the journey into Paris.  As they drove West towards the city centre, Jean-Luc explained how Sunday was the best day to visit Paris as the traffic was lighter.  There may have been fewer cars on the road, but Jean-Luc still drove like a man possessed with very little regard for other road users.
    As they drove, Isabelle could feel Etienne nuzzling her neck, his arm draped around her shoulders.  Odile and Jean-Luc didn’t seem to mind the show of affection – she thought for a moment how her parents would have reacted!  She had always heard the French were much more accepting of passion and love than the stiff-upper-lipped British people.
    Conversation flowed between them all and Christina wondered at how swiftly she was beginning to understand what everyone was saying, although it often took a little longer to say what she wanted to as she was still mentally translating it in her mind before she spoke.  Her French teacher would be so impressed when she went back to school!
    Soon they pulled up in a narrow cobbled street that didn’t seem to be anywhere near anything.
    “We go to Montmartre first,” said Jean-Luc.  “Here is good to park and we walk up to the Butte.”
    Etienne and Isabelle walked hand-in-hand behind the others along the narrow cobbled street.  It seemed quiet except for a small group of people queuing to buy their morning goods at a small boulangerie where a fine array of mouth-watering cakes were stacked on trays in the window.
    “Montmartre is my favourite part of Paris,” declared Etienne.  “It has so much character and for me is it the heart of Paris.  Many tourists prefer the 2e arondissement where you find the Louvre and the posh shops, or the 9e arondissement where you find the department stores.  For me, it is Montmartre.”
    “What is so special about Montmartre?” asked Isabelle.
    “It is the heart of Paris where the artists still come.  Today, Sunday, is the best time as you will see they all set up their easels on the Place du Tertre.  Now they mainly try to get tourists to buy paintings or cardboard caricatures.  Sometimes you will see a real artist.  It is here that Salvador Dali, Monet and many others started out.
    “Montmartre means ‘mount of the martyrs’ because it was here that Saint Dennis was beheaded hundreds of years ago.  They built a small chapel here called the Martyrium, then a church, then an abbey.  And finally they built the Sacré Coeur here.”
    Isabelle listened intently.  “You know a lot about Paris.”
    “I’ve lived here all my life and I love Paris.  You must know about London?”
    “Not really, no.  A little I guess.  Have you ever been to London?”
    “Yes, once, a school trip.  I liked London.  Maybe I visit again some day?”  He looked at her questioningly, his eyes crinkled at the corners.  “Maybe I come and visit you?”
    “That would be wonderful!” breathed Isabelle.  “But I don’t live in London!  I live near Brighton on the South Coast.  It’s not far from London though,” she added hurriedly.
    “Brighton?” questioned Etienne.  “It is by the sea, n’est-ce pas? “
    Isabelle nodded.
    “You are very lucky to live by the sea.  I love the sea, there is something so wild and special about it.  You have always lived there?”
    “Yes, always.  It is a great place to live.  I love the sea too, walking along the beach, sailing, swimming in the sea.  I guess I am lucky.  But then you’re lucky to live, here, in Paris!” and Isabelle swept her arm out gesturing around here.
    As they turned the corner, the real life of Montmartre greeted them.  The