Ada & The French (The Woodhouse Series #2)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14 

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*Quatre Pigalle, Paris*

This was dangerous.

I was an idiot, a fool. 

Why would I go to a place like this? 

I kept my head low and I kept focus on listening to anything that may be familiar. 

It was getting dark, a lamplighter lighting dim lights to give a slight glow but the streets were still dark and even though it had not rained for a few days, it was still damp. 

I heard laughter and singing from the many taverns and bars I passed, women screaming playfully and passionately. 

A dark, narrow alleyway revealed a man and woman in a passionate embrace. She was screaming and he was grunting as I quickly hurried along - my face blushing instantly. 

I was not that sheltered to not know what was going on. 

I continued through the street, the doors of a tavern opening quickly as I saw a bare-breasted woman laughing on a table as men were around her. 

Maybe I should never have come?

“Bonsoir, jolie demoiselle…” An overly make-upped woman in curly blonde, piled on her head like a Georgian was standing in the doorframe of another building, another woman next to her, shorter with brown hair in a similar style. Both were smoking something, the plume of smoke hitting me in the face as I walked past. “Vous après un peu de plaisir? Je peux aller dans les deux sens!” The woman laughed as I hurried along, looking down to avoid eye-contact. 

And I noticed a few men, slipping through an alleyway, observing their surroundings as they did. 

That had to be it. 

I entered through the gate, being aware of my surroundings at all times. 

It was damp, smelling of sulphur and sewage but I could hear the hubbub of chatter through a fence. 

I peered through a gap and saw people, entering a run-down building, others waiting outside, smoking or drinking. 

Men and women - young and old. 

I saw a young boy run of one of the men smoking outside, telling him something before passing on a silver coin, the boy with great delight in my his face as he ran off as there was the sound of feet banging on the floor inside the building, the stragglers and smokers, heading in. 

I had to get inside. 

I ran my hand along the panels, one of them moving little and I peered through the gap to make sure no-one was watching, before I pushed the panel to the side, slipping through into the courtyard and hiding in the shadows. 

There was a dim light from the building, a grimy window as I slowly made my way over. Wooden crates and barrels were outside the window and I stepped between two barrels and two pulled crates - a perfect hiding place, right under the window. 

I could hear everything but understood nothing. 

“Notre prochaine cible est le fou, Charles Toussaint. On sait qu'il sera au Palais-Royal demain alors, messieurs..."

There were cheers as the voice continued. 

“Ne nous laisse pas tomber.”

There were cheers again as I frowned.