“What kind of woman does that?” Solange said, her eyes fixed intently not on me, but on the screen.
We went to the cinema more to escape the rain than to watch the film. It was a neighborhood I was all too familiar with. Saint-Germain des Près was where Jean-François and I spent the last nine months as a couple.
“I would have seduced him.”
I laughed, knowing she would have done just that.
It was all a ruse. Jean-François and I were intelligence agents, operatives on a covert mission.
“What kind of woman seduces her superior officer only hours after they are introduced?” He grinned and lit a cigarette, his blue eyes peering into mine.
We had both known what the assignment would require. Our first night together was not unlike the one in the movie. With light from the Eiffel Tower visible from our windows, we gave in to our baser instincts, as the Americans say.
“You’re still in love with him, Danielle,” Solange said. My closest friend could always read my thoughts.
“That’s absurd,” I said.
But it was true.
©2016 Cate Derham. All rights reserved.
Early sun on the canal
Quickly faded into grey
And you were the storm
On the horizon
Holding me breathless
Speaking to me
Of secret desires
You left then
Leaving me in the shadow
Of the Grand Canal
In April rain
Uncaring of my pain