Endings and Beginnings

She bit into the éclair while watching the couple holding hands crossing the street, and thought, “how sweet”, she wasn’t quite sure though if she meant the cakes or the couple.

The couple crossed the street and walked towards her; as they grew closer, she was surprised to see that they were older than they had appeared, in fact they must have been in their late 80s. Immaculately dressed in the style of years gone by, each wore a hat, leather gloves, and a stylish suit – hers with a nipped in waist and wide swinging skirt, his broad-shouldered and double-breasted.

They were chatting animatedly and had eyes only for each other. Their obvious affection touched Giselle deeply, and she remembered how her own grandparents had been totally devoted and deeply in love, passing away within weeks of each other as if they could not bear the separation.

Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over onto her cheeks, she missed them so!

The couple had now reached the café where Giselle was seated, and the man spotted her tears.

“Cherie, do not cry, it is a beautiful day! And you have eclairs and the best coffee in Paris!”

He had spoken in French, but thanks to the tutelage of her grandmére, Giselle understood and smiled.

“Would you join me? I’m visiting Paris for the first time since my grandparents passed away, and I would welcome the company.”

The couple glanced at each other and then nodded in unison.

Fifteen minutes later, they were all on first name terms…Patrice and his wife Elodie who had lived in Paris all their lives.

Giselle was charmed by the way the couple interacted with each other, how she wished she could find someone to love, who would love her in return. She asked how they had met.

Patrice grinned. “It was during the war!”

“But you can’t be old enough!” Giselle interjected.

“Au contraire mon enfant, sadly we are old enough…just! We were seven years old when we first met in 1942.”

Elodie took up the story.

“Rationing was strict back then, and even if you were in the right place, with the right coupon, at the right time, there was no guarantee that the food you wanted would be there. Everyone became really good at making something out of nothing and listening out to hear news of possible sources of supplies.”

Patrice nodded. “Our mothers were queuing for eggs with us, when the news came that there were none left. Everyone was furious, but what could they do?” His shoulders moved in that typically Gallic shrug. “Ma mére had heard a rumour that a friend, of a friend, may have a secret supply source, and she whispered this to Elodie’s maman. We all set off on an adventure.”

“And we have been together almost ever since!” Elodie finished. “I’ve known this man almost 80 years…hard to believe I know.”

Giselle was captivated. “And…did you find any eggs on that adventure?”

Elodie laughed, a pretty tinkling sound, “No, but we did find someone with a basket of oranges that he had smuggled out of a Nazi held bistro. He’d put a dozen or so at the bottom of a wastebasket and then covered them with rotten refuse and walked out of the kitchen with them. No one questioned him apparently.”

“That basket did stink Elodie, so it’s perhaps not surprising no one stopped him.”

“He gave our mother’s an orange each, and we shared them sitting down by the Seine. They were the sweetest thing I had ever tasted.”

Patrice smiled and patted her hand, “Not as sweet as you my beloved.”

“Oh get away with you, you old romantic.” The smile on her face belied the slight scold in her words.

The waiter appeared to ask if they needed more drinks; Giselle raised an eyebrow in query towards the old couple.

“Is it too early for wine?”

“My dear, this is Paris – it is never too early for wine!” Patrice then spoke in rapid French to the waiter, too fast for Giselle to follow, although she did catch the words special, four glasses, and phone…which confused her mightily.

Whilst they waited for the wine to be served, Giselle told the couple about her grandparents, Henri and Marine who had lived in Paris before the outbreak of the war. They would have been slightly older than Elodie and Patrice and, along with their families, had escaped to England when Nazi Germany invaded France.

“They were Jewish you see,” Giselle told them.

“Ah yes, ma cherie, they were without a doubt better off out of France during those days! But they returned here later?” Elodie asked.

“In the mid-1980s, yes, my mother was grown by then and away at University, and Grandmére and Grandpére wanted to live out the rest of their days in the city of their birth. They were wealthy by then and could afford to buy an apartment in the 16th arrondissement.”

Patrice whistled through his teeth. “Wealthy indeed!”

Giselle grinned, “They were so proud of that place, and it was beautiful; I loved to visit as a child. They spoiled me rotten as the only grandchild, and I loved them.” Her eyes filled with tears once more, and Elodie leaned across to brush a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“I’m sure they knew that Giselle, and they must have loved you too.”

“I know they did, and they left me that apartment when they died – I just haven’t dared to visit it since, too many memories. That’s why I’m here in Paris now, to work out what to do with it. I’m staying in a hotel though – I don’t want to be there alone. You two remind me of them if I’m honest, so much in love! I only wish I could find such happiness.”

“There is someone for everyone ma chére – but sometimes it takes longer to find the right fit.”

As Elodie finished speaking a shadow fell across the table, and Patrice exclaimed, “Ah, Guillaume, here you are! Giselle, meet our only grandson – Guillaume, meet Giselle.”

The two younger people rose to greet each other, and as their eyes met, each felt a kind of deep-seated recognition of the other. A smile passed between the older couple, the moment they had begun speaking to Giselle, they knew that she and their precious grandson would be a perfect match.

Something began that sunny Parisienne day.

At the café Le Consulat in the heart of Monmarte, a young couple found each other.

Under the watchful eye of their respective grandparents – Elodie and Patrice, and Henri and Marine, who smiled down from a black and white photo inside the café, they took the first tentative steps on their journey together.

Endings and beginnings entwining to spin a new future for each of them.

? Laura Billingham 2022