Her reaction made me wish I’d worn the golf knickers and tie I had finished sewing last week. Her nostrils flared as if she smelled something bad. A cheeky move, I know, but I refused to stand there and let her berate me. The look was inspired by a Coco Chanel design I saw in Vogue magazine.Īs Mum inspected me, I did a twirl and asked her if she liked my frock. I’d paired it with stockings and laced-up oxford shoes. I love the loose, straight drop-waist skirt that falls just below my knees. Lorgnette in hand, Mum moved her disapproving eyes to my chemise, which I’d made myself out of remnant fabric my boss let me take home. Instead, I murmured that it was just hair. I wanted to tell her the Eton crop was a statement about a woman’s self-confidence, and that confidence, in turn, accentuated femininity. How no man would want me now because I looked like a boy. In true Constance Braithwaite fashion, she gasped and grabbed a hunk of my hair, going on and on about how I’d ruined my beauty. She made no pretense of what she thought of my new Eton crop hairdo. Outside, they retrace her steps through the city in an attempt to understand why she went to such great lengths to hide her Paris identity from future generations.Ī heartwarming and charming saga set in the City of Lights, Lost in Paris is an unforgettable celebration of family and the love between a mother and a daughter. Inside the apartment, Hannah and Marla discover mysterious clues about Ivy’s life-including a diary detailing evenings of drinking and dancing with Hemingway, the Fitzgeralds, and other iconic expats. Hannah, wary of her mother’s motives, reluctantly agrees to accompany her to Paris, where against all odds, they discover great-grandma Ivy’s apartment frozen in 1940 and covered in dust. Its contents? The deed to an apartment in Paris, an old key, and newspaper clippings about the death of a famous writer named Andres Armand.
Marla’s brought two things with her: a black eye from her ex-boyfriend and an envelope. But on New Year’s Eve, everything comes crashing down when she arrives back at her London flat to find her mother, Marla, waiting for her. Hannah Bond has always been a bookworm, which is why she fled Florida-and her unstable, alcoholic mother-for a quiet life leading Jane Austen-themed tours through the British countryside. When a deed to an apartment in Paris turns up in an old attic trunk, an estranged mother and daughter must reunite to uncover the secret life of a family matriarch-perfect for fans of The Little Paris Bookshop and The Beekeeper’s Daughter.
I adored this book.” -Kristan Higgins, New York Times bestselling author “A luscious, layered story of inheritance, heartbreak, reinvention, and family.
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