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By Root 704 0

wanted much more than a baguette and a carafe of the house red for lunch he might have to finance it. Last night Rose had dropped by. ‘I’ve bought you something for your birthday.’ She told her what it was before Natalie opened it. Rose always did that. She was usually far more excited about her present than the recipient was. ‘It’s four of those diddy bottles of champagne, like they have at posh parties in Hello! and OK!. And they have the cutest little things, look, that you slot in the top when you take the cork out and then you can sip them – see? Through there – and you don’t need a straw or anything. And it’s Veuve Clicquot, darling, not just any old plonk. I thought you could have one each on the way there and save one for the journey home. Do it in style, you know.’

Natalie had hugged her. ‘Thank you – it’s perfect!’

‘Well – you know, the capital of romance!’

‘Why does everyone keep calling it that? Even my dad did!’

‘Him, me and the rest of the world, honey. Including Tom.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t mean anything. Just that you’re taking him to a city that the entire world considers the most romantic place in the world outside the Taj Mahal, which you couldn’t afford.’

‘Mistake?’

‘You tell me.’

‘I hate it when you’re cryptic, Rose. Be obvious.’

‘Only a mistake if you’re not up for romance.’

‘We’re only going to be there for about ten hours.’

‘Only takes most blokes ten minutes.’

‘Rose!’

‘Sorry.’ Rose tried to look serious. ‘Look, Natalie, as I see it, you’re in denial of something that is undeniable. Tom has the patience of Job. He can see it, we can see it. Everyone gets it, except you. It’s obvious.’

‘It’s a day trip.’

Rose put up her hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘Fair enough. I presume friends can enjoy a glass of Veuve Clicquot on a train, same as lovers can?’

Natalie smiled. ‘Course they can. Thanks, Rosie. I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

She picked up her car keys, and stood up to leave. ‘So does Tom,’ she muttered, under her breath.

‘Rose!’

*

The sun was out by the time they arrived at the Gare du Nord. Natalie had pored over her Time Out guide the night before and had planned an itinerary that wouldn’t have disappointed a coachload of Japanese tourists. They were to have lunch within sight of the Arc de Triomphe, ram-raid the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa, meander down the Champs-Elysées, climb the Eiffel Tower, take a short ride on a Bateau Mouche and end up, at sunset, beside Notre-Dame. An early supper on the Île St Louis, then back to the station.

‘Blimey. When do I get a Gauloise and a coffee in a pavement café?’

‘First?’

‘First sounds good.’

They wandered towards the nearest authentic-looking café, and sat down on the varnished wicker chairs outside.

‘You don’t really want a Gauloise, do you?’ she asked, as the black and white waiter approached.

‘No. Just joking. Although if any capital city was going to make me want to smoke, this is the one. A coffee would be great.’

Natalie smiled at the waiter. ‘Deux cafés, s’il vous plaît.’ That was the only part of the conversation that Tom understood. The waiter asked her something, she answered, gesticulating and rolling her shoulders like a native. After a couple of minutes of this, the waiter glanced at him, laughed, shrugged and wandered off indolently.

‘What were you saying to him?’

‘Just passing the time of day.’

‘Just taking the piss, more like. I’d forgotten you were fluent.’

‘Not fluent, I shouldn’t think. Not now anyway. I’m a bit rusty.’

‘You sounded like a Frenchwoman to me.’

‘Merci, monsieur!’

It was funny, that, wasn’t it? Tom thought. You knew someone for so long and all this stuff about them, but you forgot it. Like the roller-coasters, which was definitely best forgotten. And the French, which was a lovely surprise to rediscover. She had sounded confident, relaxed and accomplished. He smiled at her. ‘De rien!’

‘Not so bad yourself.’

‘Don’t get excited. That’s about the only phrase I remember.’

‘Good job I’m here to do your talking for you, then, isn’t it?’

‘Very good job.’

Their coffee came, and tasted