I’d finally admitted to Carolyn that I wasn’t eighteen when we met, but seventeen. By then, my birthday had come and gone, so I was officially an adult. When I also admitted that I’d been sleeping outside and was down to my last ten pounds, she’d been appalled.
“I don’t know what would have become of me if you hadn’t offered me this job,” I’d told her. “You saved my life.”
“I’m glad I did,” she’d said, hugging me. “And actually, you saved my life. I was so depressed after my ex left me that there were days when I couldn’t get out of bed. I couldn’t focus on anything; my work was suffering and I was so close to giving up. But that day I saw you in the café—I couldn’t get you out of my mind. You were so young, and so hungry, and I couldn’t stop wondering what your story was, why you’d followed me home. You’re amazing, Amelie, so resilient. When I think of all that you’ve been through—well, I’m in awe.”
Since then, we’d become really good friends. She was like the sister I’d never had and I would do anything for her.
I dusted the flour from my hands and went into the hall. “Dinner’s nearly ready,” I said, then stopped because she wasn’t alone. Lina Mielkut?—the beautiful Lithuanian woman I’d seen in the café that day with Carolyn and whom I’d met several times since—was with her, and another woman, standing with her back to me. They turned at the sound of my voice and Lina came over, kissing me on both cheeks.
“Amelie, this is Justine Elland. She works with me at Exclusives.”
Justine smiled and I felt an immediate sense of connection.
“Lina told me about you,” I exclaimed, moving toward her. “You’re half-French, like me!”
“Yes, my mother is French,” Justine said, embracing me. “Et maintenant, nous allons pouvoir parler Fran?ais ensemble.”
“？a me manque de ne plus parler Fran?ais,” I admitted, because I hadn’t spoken a word of French since Papa died.
“Yes, Lina told me,” Justine replied in English. “Don’t worry, if you like we can meet each week and speak it together.”
“And then you’ll be able to say things to each other that Carolyn and I can’t understand,” Lina said, poking me in the ribs and laughing.
“I’ve invited Justine and Lina to stay for dinner, I thought we could order in if there’s not enough,” Carolyn said, trying to catch my eye as she hung their coats on the hooks by the front door.
“There’s plenty, I made a boeuf bourguignon.”
Justine clapped her hands. “Perfect!” She took a bottle from her bag. “I’ve brought some wine, will you have some, Amelie? It’s a Bordeaux, the region where I’m from.”
“I’m afraid I don’t drink,” I said. I felt horribly unsophisticated but Papa’s dependency on whisky had made me wary of alcohol.
“I’ll get you a soft drink,” Carolyn said, disappearing into the kitchen. “And check on the dinner. It smells delicious!” she called over her shoulder.
“I’ll get a corkscrew and glasses,” Lina offered.
I followed Justine into the sitting room and folded myself into an armchair, touched that Lina had thought to introduce me to Justine after I’d mentioned that I missed speaking French. I studied Justine a moment; with her long dark hair, dark eyes, and matte skin, she reminded me a little of myself.
“So, Amelie, tell me about yourself,” she said, sitting down opposite me. “I know from Lina and Carolyn that you came to London after your father died, and I know that you’re working for Carolyn. What else?”
“I’m studying,” I said. “I want to go to college, to study law.”
“And you came to London to do this? You couldn’t study at home?”
“No, once my father died, I had to leave. We only rented our house. I couldn’t stay, so I decided to come to London.”
“Couldn’t you have gone straight to college?” Lina asked, walking into the living room with four glasses and a corkscrew in her hands. She put them down on the table and came over to sit on the large corner sofa.
I blushed. “I didn’t have the money. My dad was ill…” I glanced away. For a moment I could smell our old house, the mix of tobacco and whisky. “It was hard for him.”
“For you too,” Justine said softly.
I nodded, and she reached over and squeezed my hand. “Let’s talk about something else. Your turn to ask.”