Honeymoon in Paris: A Novella by Jojo Moyes Read Free Book Online

cannot be entirely unexpected. It is only natural that those who have known Édouard longest will feel a little proprietorial towards him. After all, we know so little about you … . other than … You are a shop girl, yes?’
    ‘I was. Until I married him.’
    ‘And, of course, then you had to leave your … shop. What a pity. How you must miss your shop friends. I know only too well how comforting it is to be immersed in one’s own social circle, among one’s own kind.’
    ‘I’m quite happy in Édouard’s circle.’
    ‘I’m sure you are. Although it can be so terribly difficult to make proper friends when everybody else has known each other for years. So hard to penetrate those shared amusements, all that history.’ She smiled. ‘Still, I’m sure you’re doing quite well.’
    ‘Édouard and I are happiest alone.’
    ‘Of course. But you cannot imagine he will want to stay that way for long, Sophia. He is, after all, the most gregarious of creatures. A man like Édouard needs to be allowed the utmost freedom.’
    I was struggling to keep my composure. ‘You speak as if I have become his gaoler. I have never wanted Édouard to do other than what pleased him.’
    ‘Oh, I’m sure you haven’t. And I’m sure you are quite aware of your good fortune in marrying someone like him. I just thought it politic to offer some advice.’
    When I did not reply, she added, ‘Perhaps you believe me to be terribly presumptuous, advising you on your own husband. But you know that Édouard does not follow the rules of the bourgeoisie, so I felt that I might also be allowed to step outside the constraints of normal conversation.’
    ‘I’m sure I am most grateful, Madame.’ I wondered whether I could just turn and leave her then, invent some forgotten appointment. Surely I had endured this for long enough.
    She lowered her voice, took a step away from the stall and gestured for me to do the same. ‘Well, then, if we are speaking frankly, I feel it my duty to advise you on another front. Woman to woman, if you will. As you will be aware, Édouard is a man of great … appetites.’ She looked meaningfully at me. ‘I’m sure he is delighted to be married now, but as he begins painting other women again, you must be prepared to … allow him certain freedoms.’
    ‘I’m sorry?’
    ‘You wish me to spell it out, Sophia?’
    ‘Sophie.’ My jaw had become so tight. ‘My name is Sophie. And, yes, please do spell it out, Madame.’
    ‘I’m so sorry if this is indelicate.’ She smiled prettily. ‘But … you must know that you are not the first of Édouard’s models he … has had relations with.’
    ‘I don’t understand.’
    She looked at me as if I were stupid. ‘The women on his canvases … There is a reason Édouard gets the images he does, of such delicacy and power, the reason he is able to portray such … intimacy.’
    I think I knew then what she was about to say, but I stood there and let the words fall around me, like the blades of little guillotines.
    ‘Édouard is a man of swift and unpredictable passions. When he tires of the novelty of being married, Sophia, he will return to his old ways. If you are a sensible girl, and I’m sure you are, given your … shall we say
practical
? ‒ background, I would advise you to look the other way. A man like that cannot be confined. It is against his artistic spirit.’
    I swallowed. ‘Madame, I have prevailed upon your time long enough. I’m afraid we must part company here. Thank you for your … advice.’
    I turned and walked away, her words ringing in my ears, my knuckles white with the effort of not hitting something. I was halfway to rue Soufflot before I discovered I had left the bag that contained the onions, cabbage and cheese sitting on the ground by the stall.
    Édouard was out when I returned. It was no great surprise: he and his dealer would generally retreat to a nearby bar and conduct their business over glasses of
pastis
, or if it grew