Ticket to Paris

By Pearl M Wilson

Annie Green is tormented by the memory of what she once had and no longer knows who she is or where she belongs. When her daughters surprise her with a ticket to Paris, she reluctantly leaves Australia on an emotional journey of self-discovery. Her first days in Paris are a disaster. With her broad Australian accent and penchant for garish cloth

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bakers Road Entertainment
• Release date: Apr 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9780648955382

Pearl M Wilson

Pearl Wilson is a journalist who has worked in print media and public relations both in Australia and the United States. During her early career, she wrote five books - a medical series for children and two local history books. She teaches creative writing and organises literary events. Pearl also has facilitated a writing group for the past twelve years.

Book preview

1

Nothing looked real as the taxi crawled through the heavy traffic. Annie pulled her cardigan across her chest, trying to take it all in. Paris was so big, so beautiful and she felt so small huddled there on the back seat. Formal gardens in front of her stretched out towards the Arc de Triomphe, and in the distance the Eiffel Tower stood like a mirage on the horizon. Sun reflected off a glass pyramid in a crowded plaza.

The driver smiled when he heard her intake of breath. ‘Is this your first time here?’ he asked, his French accent caressing the words.

‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘but I never imagined it would be like this.’

‘A lot of people say that,’ he nodded, steering around the Louvre.

They drove by bridges with ornate streetlights and green bookstalls lining the banks of the river. Sun sparkled on olive-green water while tourist boats trailed long ribbons of foam.

She rolled down the window, breathing in Paris. Trees in blossom flashed by, reminding her of ballerinas in pink tutus. Footpaths were a kaleidoscope of people, shop fronts, flower sellers and outdoor cafés. As the taxi rounded a corner, an artist stood painting the streetscape like a scene from a postcard.

She craned forward, trying to see the canvas before they crossed a bridge to an island in the middle of the river. The taxi rattled over cobblestones, driving into another world resembling a provincial village. Paris seemed to disappear as she gazed out at streets only wide enough for one-way traffic. They passed apartments with wrought-iron balconies and rows of miniature shops.

Somewhere close by, bells chimed as if heralding her arrival. She sat back, rubbing the goosebumps on her arms while the stirring chorus reverberated through the car. When they reached the end of the street, the taxi stopped in front of a hotel with red awnings.

The driver glanced around. ‘We’re here,’ he said, pulling on the handbrake. ‘This is your hotel, Madame.’

Annie sat riveted to the seat, remembering all the tears and angry words leading to this one moment. The bells were now silent, replaced by her own pulse pounding in her ears. She was a world away from everything she knew and unsure if she would ever make it home again.

2

Months before Paris, on a Melbourne summer morning, Annie stood in a sea of knee-high weeds, as if waking from a trance. She looked out across her parched garden, struggling to process what she was seeing. A dead mouse by the front gate swarmed with ants, and drifts of junk mail lined the fence. She glanced back at the verandah littered with leaves blown across from the garden, wondering how her life had come to this.

‘Why are you out in this stinking heat?’

She spun around, squinting at the blurry face peering over the palings. ‘I can’t see in this glare – is that you, Jess?’

‘Well, it’s not a movie star,’ the old woman cackled. ‘What are you doing over there?’

‘Wondering how I’m going to clean up this mess.’

‘It’s too hot. Come over for a cuppa.’

‘Sorry, not now.’ She shielded her eyes with her hand in the shimmering heat. ‘I might start weeding before it gets any hotter.’

‘You’ll get sunstroke,’ Jess lectured. ‘Stop being so stand-offish. I’ll put the kettle on and expect you in five minutes.’

Annie swayed in the heat haze, her red hair a halo of damp curls. Trickles of sweat pooled in her bra and the beginning of a headache jabbed at her temples. She closed her eyes; there would be no way to get out of this.

Everyone knew a conversation with Jess could be tricky and sipping tea in the neighbourhood busybody’s stifling kitchen was the last thing Annie intended to be doing when she’d dragged herself out of bed that morning. She’d never meant to talk about anything more than the weather, but an overwhelming need to confide in someone marred her better judgement. Later, she would blame her lapse on the heat.

It started when she mentioned she wasn’t sleeping well. Jess pounced on the morsel of information like a bird with beady eyes. Before she could even finish her tea, Annie found herself answering the old woman’s string of prying questions.

‘I really shouldn’t be telling you any of this,’ she whispered.

Jess ignored the comment, leaning across the table. ‘You’ll feel better when you get it off your chest.’

A clock in the corner ticked away the seconds while Annie grappled to find the right words, her eyes bright with tears. ‘I’m having horrible nightmares and they never change,’ she finally said, trying to keep any emotion out of her voice. ‘They started after Leo died.’

‘What are they about?’

‘I’m on a balcony with my yellow tote bag. I stand on it so I can get my leg over the side of the railing. While I’m teetering there, I look down at a rose garden.’

‘Where’s the garden?’

She knew where it was but admitting it would be a step too far. ‘I’m not sure, although it seems familiar.’

‘That doesn’t sound like a nightmare.’

‘It is to me. I let go of the railing and hit my head when I fall over the side. I can taste blood and hear my skirt snapping around me as I scream for forgiveness.’

‘To God or your daughters?’

‘I’m only trying to tell you what I’ve been dreaming.’ Annie glanced away, twisting her wedding ring. ‘Anyway, God doesn’t listen.’

Jess crossed herself. ‘How can you say that?’

‘Because I’m not even sure there is one.’

‘What do Mia and Lucy think about it all?’

Annie’s heart began to race. ‘They don’t know. It’s been hard enough for them losing their father. If you see them, please don’t mention this. They don’t need anything else to worry about.’

‘My lips are sealed.’ Jess patted her mauve perm. ‘I won’t breathe a word.’

‘Let’s talk about something else. Have you heard if there’s going to be a cool change?’

‘Wait.’ Jess put up her hand. ‘What happens at the end of those dreams? Do you ever hit the ground?’

‘No, they always end with the rose garden rushing at me before I wake up. Now I’m afraid to close my eyes at night. You can understand why I don’t want the girls to know any of this.’ She glanced around the spotless kitchen, wondering how to escape the interrogation. The only way out would be to cut and run.

‘I once saw a film about a man living the same day over and over again,’ Jess said, interrupting Annie’s exit plan.

‘What’s a film got to do with anything?’

‘It’s like you on the balcony every night in your dreams. Eventually he stopped trying to fight it. Maybe you should, too.’

‘My life isn’t a film, and these aren’t just little dreams. You don’t seem to understand how disturbing they are.’

‘I’m trying, dear.’ Jess smirked across the rim of her teacup, arching an eyebrow. ‘You should see a doctor to get something for your nerves. I’m sure some medication would help you forget your troubles.’

‘I don’t pop pills.’

‘Maybe it’s time to start. You need to make an effort. You’ve let yourself go, not to mention your poor garden.’

Annie swallowed her hurt feelings with the bitter stewed tea. What would Jess know anyway, she thought. Mrs Suburbia in her neat little house, living her safe little life.

A week later Jess rang for an update. Annie flinched when she heard her neighbour’s high-pitched voice.

‘How are you today? Still upset?’

‘I’m fine,’ she whispered, guessing Jess had already told most of the street about the nightmares.

‘But you weren’t last week.’

Annie leant against the kitchen bench, resolved not to cooperate with another grilling. ‘I’m on my way out and can’t talk.’

‘Where to?’

‘You sound like a detective.’ The comment didn’t register as Jess rushed on to what she’d been fixated on for days.

‘Before you go, have you seen a doctor yet? You know, one specialising in mental problems.’ The question hung between them, stretching out in a long silence. ‘Are you still there?’

‘I can’t believe you’re asking me this,’ Annie gulped, the words almost choking her.

‘I only have the best intentions. It’s been days since I saw you and you should’ve at least made an appointment by now.’

‘I think I’m entitled to be upset. I don’t need a shrink; I need Leo.’

‘But he passed over months ago and you have to get used to life without him. Shouldn’t you be moving on?’

‘How can I move on when my life’s already over?’ Annie blurted, clutching her chest.

‘Don’t get dramatic; you have to pull yourself together.’

Annie began to answer her but clicked off the phone instead, shoving it into her pocket. The old woman’s words churned up doubts she already had about her own sanity. Tears streamed down her face as she lurched across to the stool by the sink, wishing she would keel over and end it all on the tiles. She didn’t know where to turn or how to ask for help, her reasoning dulled by lack of sleep and the sad memories haunting her every waking hour.

3

Lucy could see her sister trying to cross Chapel Street. Each time she stepped off the kerb, the break in the traffic disappeared, forcing her to jump back. Her skin-tight skirt and high-heeled sandals made her antics even more precarious in the heavy traffic. It was agonising to watch.

Lucy reached for her phone. ‘Mia, I can see you. I’m already at Coco’s. Go up to the lights before you get flattened.’

‘Sorry I’m late!’ she shouted over the street noise.

‘Do you want me to order for you?’

‘Awesome. Ask for something cold; I’m boiling. See you soon.’

Five minutes later a waiter slid her iced coffee on the table as Mia hurried into the café still clutching her phone. ‘How brilliant is that!’ she said, flashing a dazzling smile at him. She plonked on a chair and puffed out her cheeks, dropping her bag at her feet.

‘What’s up? You look a bit wasted.’

‘You always get to the point,’ Mia grinned. ‘My mother-in-law had a pool party for her sixtieth last night. It went on until well after midnight. I’m just a bit tired.’

‘It’s lucky you don’t have to teach today.’

‘I know, I got to sleep in. And by the way, thanks for meeting me. We don’t get to do this often enough.’

Lucy shrugged. ‘Closing the shop for just an hour won’t matter much on a Monday. There was only one customer this morning.’ She swirled a straw in her lemonade. ‘Why did she have the party on a Sunday?’

‘Now she’s retired she’s forgotten anyone else has to work. She’s going through her cashed-up retiree stage. You know, yoga, meditation, vegetarian cooking classes in India; she’s having a ball.’

‘I wish we could say the same about our Mum.’ Lucy watched Mia’s smile fade as she spoke. ‘No yoga or meditation for her.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so insensitive. Do you think I shouldn’t have gone to the party?’

‘I’m not saying that, just don’t mention it to Mum. You know how she doesn’t want us to celebrate anything this year.’

‘But she can’t dictate that about anyone else. I still think it’s all a bit over the top.’

‘It’s her call; we can’t change anything now.’ Lucy shook her head. ‘She’s too fragile.’

‘Someone told me it’ll get better after this first year. Do you think that will happen?’

‘Who knows; this is all new to me. All I want to do is get through Dad’s first anniversary. I think that’ll be the toughest day of all.’

‘So do I, but at least I have David’s shoulder to cry on.’

‘Lucky you.’

Mia reached out for her sister’s hand. ‘You know I’m always here for you.’

‘Yeah, whatever.’

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

Lucy glanced away, avoiding her sister’s pitying eyes. Now wasn’t the time to discuss how much she was hurting. ‘I’m fine. I don’t need anyone’s shoulder.’

‘Mine is here if you change your mind.’

‘Give it a break; can we talk about something else?’

Mia sat back in her chair. ‘Did you speak to Mum on the weekend?’

‘Only briefly. She didn’t want to talk. It’s like all the lights have gone out in her life. She keeps telling me she feels like a person without a country. Stateless.’

‘I should’ve called her,’ Mia sighed. ‘I ran out of time with all the party preparations. When I went around to see her last week, she was talking to herself in the garden. She didn’t know I overheard her. The garden was a mess. It’s all so sad.’

Lucy rubbed the muscle knotting in her neck. ‘Sometimes I worry that she won’t survive without Dad. If only she’d gone back to work after the funeral, things might have been better by now. At least all those little kids at the kindergarten would’ve been a distraction from the grief.’

‘She says her nest egg is keeping her going, but it has to eventually run out.’

‘Maybe when it does, she’ll be forced to at least get back to her art for some extra cash.’ Lucy frowned and looked out the window. ‘I don’t think she’s even picked up a brush since Dad got sick.’

A tram trundled by and they fell silent, watching it sway along the tracks in the busy street. The waiter returned with their lunch, breaking the silence. Mia unfolded her paper napkin, leaning across the table.

‘We should give her something to look forward to.’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know, but it would need to be pretty cool. What about a trip somewhere? My mother-in-law sometimes goes to France and loves it. She says Paris mended her broken heart after she split with David’s father. Remember? It was just before our wedding and he didn’t show up for his own son’s big day. She went to Paris later that year.’

‘I remember when they divorced, but not any details. Did Paris really help?’

‘She seemed better when she got back. Maybe the City of Light might help Mum, too.’

‘I’m not so sure about that.’

‘Why don’t you ask about a few prices at that travel agency near your shop?’

‘I guess it would save trolling through the internet, although I think a trip overseas would be a problem with her thing about flying.’

Mia giggled. ‘I forgot about that. What a way to start her honeymoon, vomiting all over the groom as soon as the plane took off.’

‘That one rough flight to Tasmania doomed us to all those camping trips when we were kids. All because she wouldn’t get back on a plane. It’s ridiculous when you think about it now.’ Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘God, I hated camping.’

‘It would’ve been a lot easier if they hadn’t been such purists. I could never understand why it was so important to camp in the bush away from civilisation. Remember Dad sending us out in the dark with a torch, shovel and a roll of toilet paper to do a poo?’

‘Don’t mention it,’ Lucy shrieked. ‘Can’t you see I’m eating here?’

‘You brought it up,’ Mia grinned.

Glossy posters of European river cruises, African safaris, North American train trips and tours of China were all vying for attention in the travel agency window. An Eiffel Tower poster stuck on the glass door advertised Bastille Day.

A young woman with a pixie haircut looked up from her computer when Lucy walked in. ‘Are you browsing or do you need some specific help?’

‘My sister and I want to organise a trip for our mother, but we don’t have time to do it ourselves.’

The young woman walked across to her. ‘As you can see, we can arrange trips for anywhere in the world,’ she said, pointing to a display of brochures on a long shelf. ‘What kind of holiday do you have in mind?’

Lucy glanced back at the poster on the door and the young woman smiled, reaching for several glossy brochures. ‘Good choice, everyone loves France.’

‘You read my mind,’ Lucy laughed, ‘although I’m not sure if we can afford this.’

‘Why don’t we check out a few prices? There’s no obligation to book anything, but if we look at places and availability now, you’ll at least have a better idea. We actually have a few good European deals going at the moment.’ She pulled out a chair in front of her desk. ‘Take a seat. By the way, I’m Deb.’

‘And I’m Lucy.’

‘Can I make you a coffee before we get started?’

‘No thanks, but I might need a strong espresso after I see the prices.’

‘Now, what’s your mother’s name?’

Lucy smiled as Mia’s idea took wings. ‘Her name’s Annie, Annie Green.’

Two days later Lucy rang her sister, armed with a stack of glossy travel brochures and a long list of prices. ‘Mia, it’s me. I thought I’d catch you between classes. Got a minute?’

‘I don’t have long. Where are you?’

‘At the shop. It’s a bit quiet at the moment.’

‘Have you been to the travel agency yet?’

‘Yep. Are you sitting down?’

Lucy told her about the prices for a month in France. ‘So, now you know how expensive this would be, are you still asking for my blessings? Or is it more like my money and my blessings?’

‘Come on, Lucy, stop joking around. I can’t do this alone. Maybe we should cut it back to three weeks. That would be more doable.’

‘I know we have to try something, but I’m not convinced this will work.’

‘A trip away could make a real difference.’ Mia’s voice became breathy as she pitched her idea. ‘We could tell her on Dad’s anniversary to get her through the day. It would be worth the cost if it helps.’

‘It’s not so much about the money, I just doubt if Paris could fix anything. But since you’re all fired up, we might as well get on with it now. I’ll email the travel agent and get things rolling. Listen, kiddo, someone just walked in the shop and I’ve got to go.’

‘Why don’t we go over everything on your birthday? We could have breakfast at the botanic gardens.’

‘I thought birthdays weren’t on this year.’

‘I don’t think we can call breakfast a celebration. I’ll meet you at our usual spot about ten. I might bring a cupcake with a candle on it.’

‘Try to find an Eiffel Tower candle,’ Lucy laughed.

Sunday morning traffic inched around the Royal Botanic Gardens. Lucy could see families with picnic baskets and people walking dogs while she did two slow circuits searching for somewhere to park. By the time she slid into a tight spot fifteen minutes later, she was late. She hurried along a track on the perimeter of the gardens, dodging joggers powering towards her. When she reached the main entrance, Mia was slumped on a retaining wall while she waited, her long hair the colour of corn in the morning sun. Lucy called out to her twice before she looked up.

‘Hey, you were away with the fairies,’ she smiled, sitting next to her. ‘Sorry I’m late; the parking’s chockers.’

‘No stress. Anyway, I’m still half asleep.’ Mia kissed her cheek, handing her a paper bag. ‘Happy birthday, big sister. I couldn’t find the candle you wanted, but I managed a French vanilla cupcake.’

‘I never really expected you to. Thanks.’ She propped the bag next to her on the wall. ‘Are you all right?’

‘You drive me crazy; I can’t hide anything from you,’ Mia said.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘A bit of friction on the home front.’

‘It shows; you look like shit.’

‘Thanks a million.’

‘Want to talk about it?’

Mia looked out to the gardens. ‘David isn’t impressed with the Paris trip. When I told him about it, he accused me of being secretive.’

‘When did this happen?’

‘A few days ago. I guess I should’ve discussed it with him first before I paid for my half.’ She pulled at her hair as she talked.

Lucy studied her sister’s pinched face, unexpectedly grateful she didn’t have a partner to justify anything to. ‘There wasn’t anything secret about it,’ she offered. ‘Did you tell him we would’ve missed a great deal if we didn’t book before the deadline?’

‘I tried to, but he wouldn’t listen. Not even when I kept telling him I’d cover it all with extra hours in the after-school program.’

‘Did you use a credit card?’

‘There was no other way to pay for it,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘He was awful and kept lecturing me about how we’re battling to save for a deposit on a house. In the end, I said the wrong thing.’

‘What was that?’

‘That I’d ram the card up his bum after I paid it off. Now he won’t talk to me.’

Lucy stood, grinning down at her. ‘He’ll get over it; try not to worry.’ As they began to walk, a jogger brushed by them, forcing them to jump sideways to get out of his way. ‘Watch where you’re going!’ Lucy shouted at the Lycra-clad man.

‘You’re a bit edgy today.’

‘Sorry, I can’t help it. I keep thinking about my birthday last year. Remember how Dad insisted on getting out of bed for that little afternoon tea Mum organised for me?’

‘He was so weak. I don’t know how he did it.’

‘I still can’t believe it all went so pear-shaped the next week.’

‘Everything will get better.’ Mia reached for Lucy’s arm. ‘It just has to.’

‘I need a coffee. By the way, where’re we going?’

‘The café near the observatory – my treat.’

‘Thanks, kiddo, we can eat while we figure out how to get our darling mother on that plane.’

4

Alone customer ordering coffee