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Back The Lollipop Shoes
Chapters (96)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Book
  3. The Lollipop Shoes
  4. Dedication
  5. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  6. PART ONE
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. PART TWO
  13. 1
  14. 2
  15. 3
  16. 4
  17. 5
  18. 6
  19. 7
  20. 8
  21. PART THREE
  22. 1
  23. 2
  24. 3
  25. 4
  26. 5
  27. 6
  28. PART FOUR
  29. 1
  30. 2
  31. 3
  32. 4
  33. 5
  34. 6
  35. 7
  36. 8
  37. 9
  38. PART FIVE
  39. 1
  40. 2
  41. 3
  42. 4
  43. 5
  44. 6
  45. 7
  46. 8
  47. 9
  48. 10
  49. 11
  50. 12
  51. PART SIX
  52. 1
  53. 2
  54. 3
  55. 4
  56. 5
  57. 6
  58. 7
  59. 8
  60. 9
  61. 10
  62. 11
  63. 12
  64. PART SEVEN
  65. 1
  66. 2
  67. 3
  68. 4
  69. 5
  70. 6
  71. 7
  72. 8
  73. 9
  74. PART EIGHT
  75. 1
  76. 2
  77. 3
  78. 4
  79. 5
  80. 6
  81. 7
  82. 8
  83. 9
  84. 10
  85. 11
  86. 12
  87. 13
  88. 14
  89. 15
  90. 16
  91. 17
  92. 18
  93. 19
  94. Epilogue
  95. About the Author
  96. Also by Joanne Harris

And beneath the cloche, the blue-eyed doll in the fur coat and hat smiled serenely out at me, like a child frozen in a bubble of ice.

8

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Saturday, 15th December

I COULD HARDLY wait to see Roux today. To see if things were different; to see if I’d managed to change the wind. I’d expected a sign. Snow or something, or northern lights, or a weird weather change, but when I got up this morning it was the same yellow sky and the same wet road, and although I kept an eye on Maman, she didn’t look any different, but worked in the kitchen like she always does, with her hair tied back sensibly and an apron over her black dress.

Still, you have to give these things time to work. Things don’t change so quickly, and I guess it wasn’t reasonable for me to expect everything to happen – for Roux to come back, and Maman to wake up to the truth about Thierry, and for it to snow – all at once in a single night. And so I stayed cool; went out with Jean-Loup; all the time waiting for three o’clock.

Three o’clock, by Dalida’s tomb. You can’t miss it – it’s a lifesized sculpture, though I’m not quite sure who Dalida was – some kind of actress, probably. I got there a few minutes late, and Roux was waiting for me. At ten past three it was already quite dark, and as I ran up the steps towards the tomb, I could just see him sitting on a gravestone nearby, looking a bit like a sculpture himself, very still in his long grey coat.

‘I thought you weren’t coming.’

‘I’m sorry I’m late.’ I gave him a hug. ‘I had to get rid of Jean-Loup, you see.’

He grinned at that. ‘You make it sound so sinister. Who’s he?’

I explained, feeling a bit embarrassed to say. ‘A friend from school. He loves this place. He likes to take photographs here. Thinks he’s going to see a ghost some day.’

‘Well, he’s in the right place,’ said Roux. He looked at me. ‘So. What’s going on?’

Oh, boy. Well, I didn’t even know where to start. So many things have happened over the past few weeks, and—

‘Actually, we had a fight.’

Stupid, I know, but my eyes were watering. Nothing to do with Roux, of course, and I hadn’t meant to mention it, but now that I had—

‘What about?’ he said.

‘Something stupid. Nothing,’ I said.

Roux gave me the kind of smile you sometimes see on the faces of church statues. Not that he looks anything like an angel, of course. But – kind of patient, if you know what I mean – a kind of I-can-wait-all-day-here-if-I-have-to smile.