The things we do for love

 “

I’m bored!” I kick the edge of our tarpaulin.

“Jojo, you knew I was coming to sell necklaces at the market. Why don’t you go for a walk?”

“No-one’s buying these though, are they? Maybe you should have strung the stones on chain rather than leather, Tino.”

“Look, little bro, leather is cheaper and more hip. We’ll see.”

At that moment, a girl carrying takeaway coffees trips over the edge of our tarpaulin and nearly tumbles straight into my lap. I steady her and she looks down to thank me.

She is drop dead gorgeous. Light brown curls frame a heart of a face, currently pink with embarrassment. Big blue eyes, with tears on their lashes, look straight at me.

She straightens. “I er… must get back.” And she is gone.  A group of stupid tourists blocks my view, and I can’t see her.

“Tino, did you see her?”

“See who? I was just mending this pendant.”

“An angel just nearly lands in my lap and you don’t even notice?”

“What?”

“She was so beautiful, so perfect. She wouldn’t want anything to do with me, a gitane, though. She was real classy.” I can feel myself wilting.

“Some girls love travellers. How do you know if you don’t ask her, bro? Take her a pendant, girls love presents. Go find her!”

I walk up and down the aisles, Tino’s pendant in my pocket. I am not at all sure she would want anything as…as clumsy as this. She needs something fine. I can’t see her. She must be working here though, as she was carrying takeaway coffee to someone. Not a boyfriend, I hope, but how could she not have one?

There’s a gift worthy of her. At that stall, there are pretty, woven silver bracelets. They cost a fortune. I can’t see the stallholder. There is murmuring from behind the stall, as if they’re bending down.

“Owww!” Some old man has hold of my wrist. He looks ancient but his grip is tight.

“Now sonny, what do you think you’re doing, stealing from my stall?”

Two heads bob up from behind the stall. One is a dark-haired woman who is scowling at me. The other… oh no…is my angel. Have I just tried to steal from my angel’s stall?

“Er…so sorry, Monsieur, Dames.  I was um…er… I saw an angel just a little while ago and I wanted to find a present worthy of her.”

“You wanted to steal a present for her?”

I can feel the heat on my cheeks like a furnace. I look straight at my angel. “No!”

“I’m calling your father, Mollie.” To me he says, “He’s a cop, he’ll sort you out.” My heart sinks. I know what cops think of travellers.

“Mollie,” With my free hand, I pull the pendant out of my pocket. “My brother gave me this for you, but I thought it wasn’t good enough.”

She blushes again. I can see she’s interested, though.

“I believe him, Tonton,” she says, pulling at the old man’s sleeve.  It’s too late, though, I can see a burly man in a leather blouson, jeans and boots pushing his way through the crowd.

“Hi Claude, what did he steal?”

“Thanks Didier, he stole this silver bracelet. He says he wanted to give it to your daughter.”

The man, who I guess is a cop, looks thunderously first at me and then at Mollie. She is now crying and I reach out to her. The cop slaps my arm down.

“I think his brother is that traveller, selling pendants down there,” says Claude.

The cop drags me down to where Tino is now standing, watching us come towards him.

“Is this your brother? What are your names?”

“Yes, he’s Jojo Garcia. I’m Tino.”

“Where do you live?”

“We have a houseboat at the Arsenal basin. What’s he done?”

“Theft. He’s under arrest.”

“Jojo? Why? Where are you taking him?”

I can’t tell Tino it was because I thought his pendant wasn’t fine enough for Mollie.

“To the police station, 14^th arrondissement.”

Tino nods, wraps everything up in his tarpaulin and follows us.

As we pass Mollie’s stall, she rushes out. “Papa, please, don’t arrest him. I believe he just wanted to get me a present. He gave me this, look!” She waves the pendant in front of him.

“I wanted something finer for you.” I look straight at her, putting all my love for her into my eyes. She returns my look, her eyes shining, her mouth set in a determined line.

The cop pulls me away. “Mollie, I don’t want you having anything to do with the likes of him. He’s a thieving gypsy.”

I hear her calling after us, “Papa, if you don’t let him go, I’ll call the police chief and tell him you’re just arresting boys to keep them from me. You’ll be a laughing stock. How can it be theft if he picks up a bracelet from our stall to give to me?”

She’s defending me! Oh my, this is wonderful! I turn to blow a kiss to her, but the cop is hauling me away.