French Kissing

French Kissing

Lynne Shelby

Anna Mitchel has been writing letters to her French penfriend, Alexandre Tourville, for fifteen years, but hasn't seen him since an exchange trip when they were at school. But when Alex, now a successful photographer, has the opportunity to work in London, Anna offers him a place to stay but is astounded that the small, geeky boy she remembers is now tall, broad-shouldered and gorgeous, and has just broken up with his long-term girlfriend.

Anna's female friends are soon swooning over Alex's Gallic charm, and Anna's boyfriend Nick is becoming extremely jealous of their friendship. Then Alex has to return to Paris to oversee the hanging of his photographs in an exhibition, and invites Anna to accompany him so that he can show her the city he adores...

Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-one

Twenty-two

Twenty-three

Twenty-four

Twenty-five

Twenty-six

Twenty-seven

Twenty-eight

Twenty-nine

Thirty

Thirty-one

Thirty-two

Thirty-three

Contemporary Women's Fiction

One

Chère
Alexandra,

Je m'appelle Anna Mitchel. J'ai onze ans. J'ai une sœur
. My French teacher says we have to write to our penfriends in French but I do not know many French words yet because I have only been learning it for one term at my new school. French is hard. I live in London.

Á bientôt,

Anna

Dear Anna,

My name is Alexandre. Alexandra is a girl's name. I am a boy. I am eleven years old like you. I have one sister like you. My father is French but my mother is English. I speak English because my mother taught me so it is easy for me. I live in Paris.

Yours sincerely,

Alexandre Tourville

Cher
Alexandre,

J'espère que tu as aimé ta visite à Londres
… I hope you enjoyed your visit to London. I'm sorry that I left you on your own so much. Thank you for not telling my parents that it was my fault you got lost on the underground. Thank you for saying I was with you the whole time at the disco. Do your parents really let you drink wine? …
boire du vin
?

Á bientôt
,

Anna

Dear Anna,

I enjoyed my visit to London very much. I took some great photos. The best is the photo of you in Regent's Park. I showed it to my sister and she said that you are very pretty and look older than thirteen. I told my parents that the reason I got lost was because I do not have a mobile phone and I could not call anyone, and at last they have agreed to buy a phone for me!! All French teenagers drink wine.

Best wishes,

Alexandre

Cher
Alex,

I passed my A Levels – and got the grades I need to go to university! For French I got an A!!!! In September I'm off to study the History of Art for three years. I can't wait to be a student and live away from home.

On Saturday my friend Beth and I went clubbing and met these two really hot guys. We're going back to that club next weekend!!

Ciao,

Anna

Dear Anna,

My first term as a photography student has been amazing and has gone unbelievably fast. I thought I was a good photographer, but now I know I have so much to learn.

I am sad for you that you broke up with Daniel. But not
very
sad, because he sounds like a total jerk.

I am still dating Francine, but all we seem to do is argue – even when we are in bed. She wants us to move in together, but for me it is far too soon to make that sort of commitment.

It is good to hear that you are enjoying your studies of art history. One day I hope you will come to Paris, and I will show you my favourite paintings in the Louvre and the Musée D'Orsay.

Best,

Alex

Cher
Alex,

I have a job! Tomorrow, I start work as an account executive at Nova Graphics, a small graphic design company in Camden. It's not exactly the gallerista job I had in mind when I graduated, but Oliver and Natalie (partners in life as well as professionally), who own the studio, are lovely, and the money is good enough that my friend Beth and I can afford to rent a flat together!! Which I'm
really
pleased about, because moving back home to live with my parents after uni has certainly
not
been easy!

The other big event in my life is that Tom and I have decided we should stop seeing each other. There are no hard feelings – we've just drifted apart. Actually, several of my friends recently split up from the people they were dating at uni.

Maybe one day, if the invitation still stands, I'll just jump on the Eurostar and come and visit you in Paris. I would love to see Paris, and you of course.

Ton amie,

Anna

Hi Anna,

I have my first commission! It has taken months of trudging round photography agencies with my portfolio and pitching for work, but I am finally booked on a fashion shoot. Caroline is a great photographer, and I have learned more in the year I have been working as her assistant than I learned in college, but it is time I struck out on my own …

Your friend,

Alex

Cher
Alex,

Nick wants me to meet his parents! He has invited them to join us for lunch at his golf club. I don't mind admitting that I'm terribly nervous, but I guess that's normal when you meet your boyfriend's mother for the first time. I so want his family to like me …

Ton amie,

Anna xx

From:
[email protected]

To:
[email protected]

Subject: London

Hi Anna,

Just a quick email to let you know that I've taken a six-month contract with an English magazine, and from next week, I'm going to be based in – cue drum roll – LONDON. We will finally have a chance to meet up again! I won't have time to sort out my accommodation before I arrive in England, so can you recommend a hotel for me, preferably near where you live?

Alex

From
[email protected]

To
[email protected]

Subject: London

Cher Alex,

I know you're used to living out of a suitcase, but there's really no need for you to book into a London hotel. You're very welcome to come and stay in my spare room until you find a place of your own.

Anna xx

I listened with growing impatience to the voice on the other end of the phone. Alex's train was due to get in at 6.00 and it was already gone 5.30.

‘I'm afraid Oliver has left for the weekend,' I told the client, ‘but I'll have him telephone you first thing Monday morning …'

Finally, the client was happy, and I was able to end the call.

Natalie came out of her office, already wearing her outdoor coat.

‘Coming for a drink, Anna?' she said.

‘I can't tonight. I'm meeting Alexandre off the Eurostar.'

For a moment, Natalie looked puzzled, but then she said, ‘Oh, yes, your Frenchman.'

‘Well, Alex is French, and male, but I don't know that he'd like being described as “my Frenchman”.'

‘I guess it does sound a little proprietorial.'

Natalie waited while I put on my coat and picked up my bag, and we walked downstairs and through the revolving doors that led onto the street. Outside, it was dark, cold, and just starting to rain. February was certainly not the best time of year for Alex to be coming to London.

‘Goodnight, Anna,' Natalie said. ‘I'll see you and Nick tomorrow, at the party my husband has so kindly arranged to “celebrate my fortieth birthday”.'

‘Your fortieth!The big Four-O.'

Natalie grimaced. ‘Tomorrow I'll be forty. I'll be embarking on my fifth decade. And I'm
absolutely fine
about it.'

I glanced at my watch. 5.45. From Camden Town to St Pancras was only two stops on the tube, but I was going to be late.

I said, ‘Nat, I really have to shoot off. I'll see you tomorrow.'

‘You can bring your Frenchman, if you like,' Natalie said. ‘I'm worried Oliver hasn't invited enough men.'

‘I'll bring Alex, then – if he hasn't made other plans.' I couldn't resist adding, ‘The French appreciate an older woman's charms.'

‘Not helping, Anna.' Natalie headed off to the pub (where Oliver and the rest of my co-workers were no doubt already making inroads on the wine) and I hurried to the station.

As always in central London on a Friday night, the underground was crammed with commuters returning home from work (or an after-work drink with their colleagues) and revellers making their way into town. By the time I'd queued to get through the ticket barriers and down the escalators, battled my way on and off the packed train, and followed the signs to the Eurostar terminal, it was nearly 6.30. I was hideously late. I scanned the crowds milling around the arrivals gate. There was no sign of Alexandre. He'd been in London for less than half an hour, and already I'd managed to lose him. Again. Just like the last time. My heart started thudding in my chest, but then I realised that there really was no need to panic. Alex was no longer a shy thirteen-year-old schoolboy on his first trip abroad, but a twenty-eight-year-old man and a successful professional photographer, whose work had taken him all over the world. And he had a mobile phone.

I fished my iPhone out of my bag. I had one missed call and a text.

Hi Anna. Cannot find you at arrivals. Will wait for you by bronze statue of man and woman. Guidebook tells me it is called The Meeting Place, so it seems appropriate! Alex xx

Being unfamiliar with the layout of St Pancras, I looked around wildly for the famous statue of the embracing couple. As it was about ten metres high, and situated under the clock, I saw it immediately, even though it was on the upper level of the station. I pelted across the concourse and leapt up the stairs two at a time. Reaching the top, I dodged past the people heading the opposite way, and tried to spot someone near the statue who could be the adult version of a boy I'd last seen fifteen years ago. Most men of the right age were either with a girl or a group of friends. There was a guy in a leather jacket, standing with his back to me, who seemed to be on his own, but his hair was too dark for him to be Alex. Another lone man, with lighter hair, was reading a newspaper, holding it up so I couldn't see his face. I really can't start accosting strange men in a train station, I thought.

Realising that I was still clutching my mobile, I scrolled through my address book and called Alex's number.

The dark-haired guy reached into his jacket for his phone.

‘
Bonjour
, Alex,' I said, when he answered.

‘Anna. Hi. Where are you?'

‘I'm standing right behind you.'

He turned around.

‘Alex?'

The last time I'd seen Alexandre, he'd been a head shorter than me, a scrawny boy, with a pale face and thin, bony shoulders. The man striding towards me, carrying a holdall and a camera case, was well over six feet tall, and his shoulders were broad. His brown hair had grown so dark it was almost black, he was tanned, and his jaw was covered in stubble. And he was
gorgeous.
I stared at him, not quite able to believe that anyone's physical appearance could change so much. Deep within me, I felt the unmistakable stirring of desire. I reminded myself
very
firmly that I had a steady boyfriend.

‘Anna? Is that really you?' Alex bent his head to greet me the French way, with a kiss on either side of my face. I breathed in a deliciously masculine scent of leather and cologne.

‘Don't you recognise me?' I'd never thought about it, but obviously I also looked somewhat different to my gawky teenaged self. For one thing, I'd long ago stopped slouching in an effort to appear less than 5' 8” tall. These days, I was very rarely seen in public without my high heels.

‘I didn't recognise you at first. But I do now.'

‘I'm so sorry I was late meeting you,' I said.

‘Not to worry, it gave me a chance to admire the statue.'