Poppy Does Paris (Girls On Tour 1) (Girls On Tour Book) by Nicola Doherty Read Free Book Online Page B

wondering: what is Jonathan thinking now? What’s it going to be like seeing him tomorrow for lunch? And what am I going to wear?
    Walking by a shop window, I catch sight of my reflection and feel a moment of doubt. Is this jumpsuit as cute as I think, or do I actually look as if I’m in fancy dress? I’ve never been interested in expensive designer clothes; I’ve always wanted to have fun with what I wear. I’m used to looking at clothes in shops and thinking that I could make something nicer, or find the original that it’s ripped off. But the clothes here are something I could never make.
    One dress in particular catches my eye – a simple sleeveless shift in a zingy orange colour. I walk into the shop and try it on. The size 40 fits me perfectly and the material is so lovely; a smooth silk-cotton mix.
    ‘I have the bigger size, if you would like it,’ the sales assistant says – in English, to add insult to injury. Surprised, I go back and check my reflection from different angles, but it seems to fit perfectly. What a cow. I tell her the 40 is just fine and take it to the till. It’s more than I’ve spent on a dress in a long time, but I tell myself it’s a professional investment. Also, it’s euros, which don’t count.
    After walking home the long way round – via the Louvre (well, via a
millefeuille
pastry at Angelina’s next door), the Tuileries and the Pont des Arts – I arrive back at the hotel and run straight into Charlie in the lobby.
    ‘How’s it going? I see you’ve hit the shops,’ he says.
    ‘What? Oh, yes.’ I sit down in one of the couches to rest my aching feet, and he sits opposite me. ‘We had lunch and then coffee . . . and then I walked home. I think it went well. We talked about the book and he liked my suggestions.’ I pick up a flyer for the Louvre and fan myself with it, hoping he’ll attribute my blush to the heat. ‘How about you, how did you get on with the lovely Constance?’
    ‘It was fantastic! I talked her through our publishing plans, and then we went for a ride all along the quays – it’s a scooter she’s got, not a motorbike – as far as the Eiffel Tower and back. We stopped off at this amazing little café and had the best lunch . . . and then I went up to this park near here called the Luxembourg Gardens, that Constance told me about. Why did no one ever tell me about all this before?’
    I don’t even know how to begin to answer that one.
    ‘Um, well, Paris is quite popular—’
    ‘All anyone ever talks about is the Louvre, though. But Constance says it’s too big, and she much prefers the Musée – D’Olay or something?’
    ‘The Musée D’Orsay. Yes, that is a great museum.’ My head’s beginning to hurt from a combination of sun, Kirs and anxiety, and I decide I have to get away from Charlie, have a cold shower and lie down somewhere.
    ‘Anyway,’ Charlie says. ‘When are you meeting your friend?’
    ‘What? Oh. Not till later. I’m just going to have a little freshen-up first. What are you doing?’
    ‘I’m going to head out with Constance. I would have asked her if you could join us, but you said you were busy. I booked us a restaurant for tomorrow, by the way. Not the one Jonathan said – that was a bit pricey – but another one.’
    ‘Great. Lovely. Look forward to it,’ I say, and flee up the stairs before he can ask me any more questions. Let him go out with Constance; I’m staying in my hotel room tonight and ordering room service, before I get into any more trouble.
    ‘Are you nervous?’ Charlie asks me the next day, as we go up in the lift towards Les Ombres restaurant. It’s on the roof of the ethnographic museum on the Quay Branly, which seems an odd place to find a great restaurant, but Constance recommended it and presumably knows what’s good.
    ‘Nervous about what?’ I say, edgily.
    ‘About whether they’re going to accept our offer? I get the impression they’re going to tell us over