She toys with a Gui donkey ornament. ‘Fine,fine. I’ve got a date, but I didn’t want you to make a big deal about my cancelling on you for it, especially on our traditional decorating-the-Christmas-tree day.’
I take the Gui donkey from her hand because she’s about to decapitate it with all her handwringing. ‘We can decorate another day, that’s no problem. Honestly, I’m happy to write instead because I’ve got such a long way to go with the first draft. Why didn’t you tell me you had a date?’
‘Because you’re going to fuss and ask me questions relentlessly until I give you every last detail.’
‘Oui!Isn’t that my job as older cousin? Who is he?’
‘Never you mind!’
This is always the way it is with Manon and men. She is not the commitment type, so I will always quiz her relentlessly, fascinated by the fact she doesn’t want long-term relationships, doesn’t subscribe to committing to only one man, and is veryopen and honest about it. It’s not like her to try and keep it from me.
‘OK, I won’t ask about him. Where are you going?’
She looks under her lashes at me. Coy Manon is not a Manon I’m familiar with. ‘Jardin des Plantes, the winter festival of lights.’
The botanical gardens are in the Latin Quarter in the 5th arrondissement. Every winter, the gardens are illuminated in a grandiose fashion, and each year there’s a different theme, usually relating to conservation. It’s quite the spectacular immersive experience and is popular among locals and tourists alike.
‘Bonne journée.’
She gives me a hard stare. ‘That’s it?’
‘What?’
‘Come on, Anais. You never give up so easily. Aren’t you curious?’
‘But you said…’
‘When do you ever listen to me? You normally browbeat me into submission.’
‘I’m getting whiplash here, Manon. All these twists and turns.’
‘Fine, if you’re not going to let this go. I’m going on a date with JP and I don’t want to hear a word about why it’s a bad idea.’
I gulp. ‘JP, our building supervisor JP?’
‘The very same.’
I hold up a palm. ‘I trust you to make good choices that won’t affect the working relationship we have with JP.’
‘No, you don’t. You don’t trust me one little bit.’
I frown. ‘What’s going on, Manon? You’re speaking in riddles.’
The wringing of her hands continues. She’s fidgety and distracted; it’s so unlike her.
As she struggles to respond, I say, ‘Ah. This isn’t your first date, is it?’ I recall all those times recently where I’ve been holed up in the secret library and she’s stepped out to meet ‘friends’. I never thought much of it, because Manon does have a lot of Parisian friends.
‘Non, it’s our third. And’ – Manon’s face is pinched – ‘he’s very sweet. A real gentleman. I, uh, I haven’t quite felt this way before, and I don’t really like it.’
‘What do you mean you haven’t felt like this? Why don’t you like it?’ I consider the fall out if Manon breaks JP’s heart. It won’t be ideal, but we can deal with any awkwardness if we have to.
‘I like… love him?’ She covers her face with her hands. ‘It’s insane. He’s cast some spell over me, and I absolutely despise it.’
My jaw drops. Manon in love? My wayward cousin who claims love is a concept for romance novels? Who says she’d never commit to one person because the world is full of too many options? ‘Youlovehim? After three dates?’
‘Oui, and I hate him in equal measure for making me feel this way.’ She cups her face and wails. I’m so shocked I don’t quite know how to react, or what to say. This has never happened before. Manon always casts men away as soon as they get love hearts for eyes. She’s ruthless and I’ve been on the end of many a call when her significant other has reached out and asked why she’s disappeared and if there’s any hope.
Too many times I’ve had to be the bearer of bad news and enlighten the poor men that if they’ve received the obligatory break-up textI’m not into this, then there is no hope. I’ve never faced a lovelorn Manon before, so I grapple with how to navigate this.
