It still felt strange to walk in the park without lugging a backpack. Just for fun, without looking for a new hideout or food or supplies. Unburdened, somehow, physically at least, although now there were other things weighing Jade down.
Should she reclaim her independence, given that she was no longer ill? How long would Adelphine and Josse allow her to stay? What did they want in return? Was it a price she was willing to pay?
She had already done three rounds of the park while she considered her options, and she didn’t feel like heading back to Jos Le Rêveur. She’d go stir-crazy if she didn’t occasionally leave her room, and now that she no longer dared enter the tavern, there was nowhere else for her to be on the premises.
Might as well just find a nice spot and stay there until it was time to go home.
Home. Well.
She sat down near a fountain, Zina settling under the bench, and watched the showers of droplets raining down from its jets. She had never really noticed the bright morning light dancing in the sprays, breaking into shimmering haloes, twinkling like shards of a rainbow. A liquid chandelier.
Presumably, the conditions had to be just right to produce this dazzling display, and the first passing cloud would soon cut it short. No point getting carried away, no point getting too attached, so far as Jade was concerned. Life wasn’t all lollipops and pink unicorns and happily ever af…
“Zina! Get back here, now!”
The dog had suddenly darted away to jump right into the pond in pursuit of a duck. A big mutt creating a big splash, which it clearly enjoyed.
“Stop it right now! Zina! Heel! Now!”
Zina, wagging wildly, turned around to grin at her friend. Life isn’t all doom and gloom either, she seemed to say. Her prey had retreated to a safe spot on the far side, eyeing the fanged intruder with world-weary disgust.
What could you do but laugh?
“Get back here, stupid. What if the park warden sees us?”
Sure enough, a uniformed man was approaching.
“Bonjour. Il est à vous, ce chien?”
Jade nodded.
“Faut le tenir en laisse, s’il vous plaît. C’est dangereux de le laisser courir ici, et de toute façon c’est interdit. J’ai pas du tout envie de vous coller une amende.”
“Désolée, j’avais pas vu,” Jade lied, and followed up with yet another lie as she reached for Zina’s collar. “Ça n’arrivera plus!”
“C’est ça. Bonne journée.” The warden sighed as he left. The same conversation, a hundred times per day. Again and again and – oh. Just look at the fountain; it’s magnificent when the sun is out.
***
“Je peux voir le patron?” Mr Obnoxious stood at the bar, all suit and large, shiny cufflinks.
“Il est occupé au bureau. Je peux prendre un message?”
“Vous pouvez l’appeler? Et je prends un double espresso en attendant.”
Mirko frowned and signalled for another waiter to take over. The tavern was quiet, a mere half-dozen regulars all sitting alone. The lunch crowd had yet to arrive, but it wasn’t wise to leave the till unattended while there were customers present. No one wanted to have to explain a Ladrache extravaganza to innocent bystanders if some fool tried to make off with the float.
He walked through the kitchen and opened the door in the party wall, assuming that Josse was next door Chez Adelphine. And, sure enough, he found the landlord chatting with the kitchen witch, who had just told him that the lutins had asked for help to go shopping.
“The crook is back,” he announced. “He wants to see you.”
“Oh well,” Josse replied. “Might as well get it over with.”
He followed Mirko back into the tavern and walked up to the man at the counter, fixing the unwelcome guest with a level gaze. The guy had threatened him when they last met; no hollow courtesies would be offered.
“Ah, vous voilà,” his visitor said. “Ça fait trois fois que je passe sans vous trouver.”
Josse saw no reason to reply.
“Ah, je vois. On est du genre rancunier,” the intruder resumed. “Pas grave. Avez-vous eu le temps de réfléchir à mon offre? Je vous ai fait un petit dossier, vous verrez que c’est une affaire juteuse.”
He extracted a glossy presentation folder from the depths of his briefcase and pushed it towards Josse on the counter.
“Je vous ai déjà dit que je ne suis pas intéressé. Inutile d’insister.”
“Oh, faites-moi confiance, vous allez changer d’avis. Je vous laisse les infos, avec mes coordonnées. On se reverra.” Mr Obnoxious downed the rest of his coffee and gathered his things.
As soon as he had left, Josse opened the file. Slick images, high-quality paper, pretentious prose. Mr Obnoxious had included a detailed financial proposal and what looked like an overly optimistic completion timeline, and he had even had the gall to give his delusive apartment complex some cringe-worthy name.
Apparently, he wasn’t prepared to take no for an answer.
***
At the fabric shop later that day, Adelphine found herself in the sequin section rifling through eye-watering patterns on net. It took a lot to get her out of the alley and into a busy shopping street, but the lutins had been insistent – apparently, materials for a show they were planning had emerged as a matter of life or death.
They were stubborn, single-minded little pests. Once they’d made their minds up, arguing with them was about as useful as shouting at rain, and they wouldn’t hesitate to make her life a misery if she didn’t give in. If she did help them out, they would instead be disproportionately grateful for quite a while. Resistance was futile, as anyone dealing with lutins would quickly find out.
She’d agreed to take two, one in each of the deep pockets of her wide winter coat, and she was wearing headphones so that no one would think that she was muttering to herself. Unfortunately, once they had arrived at the shop, both tiny reprobates had immediately climbed out to run along the long table in the centre, tugging at bolts as soon as the other customers had their backs turned. At least, they had had the good sense to stay invisible.
It hadn’t taken them long to conclude that the inconspicuous, practical cottons on the central display weren’t quite what the alley’s lutinry had in mind. Where were the rhinestones, where was the lace?
Eventually, they found what they were looking for in a corner at the back of the shop, where Adelphine had since joined them and was now fingering fabrics dubiously.
“You know this stuff is dry cleaning only, right?” The frilly, embroidered lime green and tangerine improbability she was holding looked like it would fall apart if someone opened a window. “And you’d better not stand too close to an open flame.”
The lutins were far too excited to listen. They had taken it upon themselves to test the sturdiness of a mesh best described as a neon sunset by using it as a makeshift swing. It turned out to be far stronger than Adelphine would have thought.
In fact, there was something glorious in all these exuberant designs. Something beyond grey Monday mornings and rinsing out rubbish bins and a 600-year fight against facial hair.
Maybe her own wardrobe could do with a boost. A midnight blue lurex with shimmering silver dots was calling out to her, as was its champagne-coloured neighbour with the gold appliqué.