A French Girl in New York ( The French Girl Series #1)

Chapter 4

Mrs. Bonnin walked so fast that James Baldwin had trouble keeping up with her, especially as he was surprised to hear her muttering animatedly to herself, all the while glancing at him from time to time. They quickly arrived to 29, rue du Général de Gaulle, and James Baldwin turned to her.

"Thank you," he said, "thank you so much. You are very kind." He turned towards the doorbell, expecting her to leave. The dear baker just smiled at him, waiting for him to ring the doorbell.

He shrugged and turned back towards the door, thinking that his wife was right to say the French were strange folk, and rang.

Maude appeared, breathless at the door, her left hand mixing cookie dough in a big bowl held by her right arm, her brown cheeks streaked with traces of flour. She was in the middle of her Sunday baking session, but no one else had wanted to open the door, so she'd rushed, her apron flying behind her, almost tripping on one of the twins' toys.

When she opened the door and saw who was on the doorstep, she gasped.

And of course, what was inevitable, happened.

The bowl went crashing to the floor, the loud crash ringing in the house, glass and cookie dough splattered all over the floor that Maude had washed that same morning, onto Maude's feet and James Baldwin's black polished shoes. Only his suitcase was spared, as well as Mrs. Bonnin, who always stayed at a safe distance from people during the winter to avoid catching their germs.

Before Maude could utter a word, an irate voice echoed through the halls of the house.

"What's going on?" yelled Mrs. Ruchet from the couch she hadn't moved from all day. "Who's at the door?"

Mr. Ruchet, who was somewhat more prone to movement than his wife was, appeared at the doorway.

"What is this mess?" he said. "Clean this up, Maude, this is such a waste. Now, what will we have with our tea, I wonder?" Then turning and seeing his uninvited guests, he asked, "Who is this, Maude? And Mrs. Bonnin, what are you doing here?"

While saying this, he had a sudden realization. If Mrs. Bonnin was here, it could only mean one thing: a fresh scandal was brewing and this stranger was probably at its source.

Maude hurried back into the house to fetch a mop. Mr. Baldwin was back! Just when she'd given up hope he had come back for her.

"Mr. Ruchet," whispered Mrs. Bonnin, bending towards the door. "This man speaks English. He doesn't speak French. And he wants to see Maude."

Mr. Ruchet looked at the stranger, looked back at Mrs. Bonnin, and told her in a firm tone "Thank you, Mrs. Bonnin for bringing him. I will take things from here."

He looked at her coldly and even Mrs. Bonnin knew that she had outdone her welcome, if she ever had been welcome.

She turned towards James Baldwin and smiling at him she said loudly as if he were deaf "Au revoir, Monsieur. Good morning!" she said proudly, thinking how wrong foreigners were to say the French didn't know a word of English. She'd just spoken two!

And quite content with herself, Mrs. Bonnin waddled away.

Mr. Ruchet turned towards James Baldwin and invited him inside. They went to the living room where Mrs. Ruchet was gloomily wondering what all the commotion was about.

Mr. Ruchet, as a former international human rights lawyer spoke English very well, though with a strong French accent that used to make American girls swoon every time he pronounced "the," "ze," almost spitting on them as he did, though they never seemed to notice.

The men sat down, and Mr. Ruchet spoke in English "You have come to see Maude?"

"Yes," Mr. Baldwin said slowly. "My name is James Baldwin, and I'm a music producer from Soulville Records in New York." He handed Mr. Ruchet his card.