First of all for the fans of Forest of Dreams don't worry. Part five is underway and will be up soon.
Thank you as always to my proofreaders, Eyehawk, Angel, Jen, Suzy and Jill.
And of course, I dedicate this story to Jill.
Anna
Xxx
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I was in Paris for a week, taking in some of my favourite sights and haunts but with one specific destination in mind. I was close to my thirty third birthday, single, and just enjoying one of my favourite cities.
I had had a wonderful morning walking in the warm, late spring air through the Tuileries and Carousel gardens. Given the mild weather I was wearing a long sleeved, mid thigh length, light cable knit dress. I had knee length cream boots with three inch heels. My long red hair was tied back in a ponytail and I had my purple, long strapped bag over my right shoulder, the strap going between my breasts with the bag resting on my left hip.
I had then headed for Musée du Louvre with just one object in mind, to see the painting that I hadn't known existed until a couple of weeks before.
I was now standing in the long gallery staring up at Madame Récamier with a smile on my face. I had finally got the joke.
I let out a little laugh and was surprised when I felt a gentle touch on my arm. I turned to see an attractive woman who looked to be in her late twenties with long, wavy blond hair and blue eyes. She was dressed in skinny jeans, a cream coloured, cable knit sweater, which coincidentally matched the weave, and almost the shade of, my dress, and open toed heels.
She had an enquiring look on her face and said, "Um.. parlez-vous anglais?"
I could tell from her accent that she was clearly unused to speaking French. I thought I detected a slight American edge to her pronunciation.
I smiled at her, "Yes, I do as it happens. I'm actually English."
"Oh wonderful! I was beginning to think I was the only English speaker in the whole country."
I smiled, her accent was delightful. "So, how may I help you?" I asked.
"Um, well two things really. I was a little intrigued as to why you were laughing at the painting. I don't see the joke..." I was about to answer when she carried on, "and I'm kinda lost. Do you know where the Mona Lisa is?"
"Well, I'm happy to explain the small joke and I'll happily guide you to La Gioconda," she looked confused, "the real name for the Mona Lisa," I explained, "but you're going to be disappointed I suspect. I was quite let down the first time I saw it."
A small frown creased her brow, "Really? But it's such an iconic painting. Okay well I can't go home and tell my family I came here and didn't see it. So... why the laugh?"
She was disarming and so friendly. I already felt a connection with her and said, "Well, if I'm going to be your art guide to the Louvre we should be formally introduced. I'm Anna," and held out my hand.
She took mine in hers, her soft skin was warm and we shook a little awkwardly.
"Hi Anna... I'm Jill."
"Nice to meet you Jill," I said, "So... I laughed because one of my favourite artists is Renée Magritte and he did a painting called
'Madame Récamier by David'
and I always wondered what it was about. I didn't get the joke. Then I heard that the original was here in the Louvre and so I sought it out and... well, now I get the joke."
She stared into my eyes and laughed gently, which made me go a little weak in the knees. She had such an infectious way about her. "Well, perhaps as you lead me to the Mona Lisa you can explain a little more?"
I said, "Gladly, follow me."
As we walked I explained the joke that Magritte had made in that his painting was essentially the same but instead of the society beauty on the chaise longue there was a coffin in the same pose. A sort of joke on the superficiality of beauty and the true meaning of immortality. It could be achieved through art but not in the traditional sense of living forever.
We got to the room and I led Jill in. The usual crowd of tourists was ten deep and Jill finally said, "Where is it?"
I laughed and pointed over the heads of the gawking onlookers. "Just over there."
From where we were you could just make out the top of the environmentally controlled case that contained La Gioconda.
"How big is it?" She asked.
"That's the disappointment, I'm afraid," I said, "It's tiny. I swear it was supposed to be an oversized postage stamp."
She giggled and said, "Okay, but I still have to see it."
We waited as the crowd slowly thinned in front of us. As we had some time I said, "Hey, do you like good coffee?"
She grinned into my eyes and said, "No. I
love
good coffee. Why, do you know a good café nearby?"
"As it happens I do. One of my favourites. It's only a ten minute walk from here. Once we've finished how about we go and get one?"
She seemed genuinely thrilled, "I'd love to! It's so wonderful to find someone who knows their way around Paris who also speaks English. You must have spent quite a bit of time here."
"Oh, I come here every opportunity I get. My friend Agnes, spelled a-g-n-e-s but pronounced ann-yes, has an apartment just off the Rue de-Rivoli and lets me use it any time I want."
We finally got to the painting and Jill stared at it.
"Oh. Yes. I see what you mean. It's still an enigmatic smile though," she said, turning to me, "but yes. Not that great. Now, how about showing me this amazing café"
I was a little taken aback. I was getting very mixed signals from her. There was a mixture of a certain aloofness combined with a clear desire to spend time with me. Perhaps it was nerves and the sudden relief at finding someone she could communicate with.
I smiled and said, "Have you seen everything you want to see here, then?"
"Oh, pretty much," she replied, "I mainly came to see this," she pointed at the Mona Lisa, "and I saw a painting that made you laugh too so I call that a win."
"Come on then," I said, turning and allowing an asian couple into our slots, "let's get a coffee."
We walked down the hallways and stairs towards the entrance and out into the mid afternoon air. I led us out onto the street and across, then down to the café. As we walked we chatted. Jill asked me about the apartment I was using.
"Oh, it's just a one bedroom apartment but it's so close to the centre that it's perfect for me."
"And how does... ann..."
I smiled, "Agnes."
"Yeah, her," she said, laughing, "how does she feel about you staying with her. Must be cosy."
I laughed with her, "Agnes lives out near Versailles most of the time. She has a glorious country house, a husband and three children along with dogs and horses. This is just her pied-å-terre for when she needs a break. I get lucky because she rarely uses it."
"Oh god... sorry.. A pee-ed...?"
"Stop apologising, Jill!" I said, "It's okay to not speak French. Not everyone does. It literally means
'foot on the earth'
but is a common phrase taken to mean a small apartment."
"Wow, lucky you," she said, "having almost your own place in Paris. I'm jealous."
