‘Have you spoken to James?’
The question caught me off guard. ‘No.’
‘What are you going to do?’
I looked away. ‘I don’t want to talk about it now.’
‘Fine.’ He bit off the word savagely. ‘I’ll go and book the flights, you get our stuff and check out. Here’s my key, my bag is packed and ready. And for Christ’s sake, don’t take that bloody great suitcase with you.’
He thrust his room key at me. A little hurt at this dismissal, I went upstairs to get our stuff. Somehow it felt too intimate to be in his room after last night’s conversation. I sat down on the edge of the bed for a few moments and spread my palm out on the sheets that had so recently enveloped his body.
Then I remembered the girl he’d had in here a few nights ago and I stood up abruptly. Even assuming he was telling the truth about not sleeping with her, did I really want to get involved with a guy who’d invite a complete stranger into his hotel room just to get information? I thought again about Nick telling me to relax, to go with the flow. It wasn’t like he’d suggested I go ahead and sleep with him, and my gut feeling told me it was more than just physical, especially after what he’d said to James. But going with the flow was exactly how I’d ended up in bed with him in the first place, and I wasn’t going to trust myself with him again.
It was absolutely, definitely, probably never going to happen again.
I went to my own room, stuffed several changes of clothes into my bag then lugged the whole lot down to reception to check out. Nick was already waiting for me in the lobby. The smirk was back on his face.
‘What took you so long? You weren’t going through my underwear, were you?’
I scowled at him. ‘You’re disgusting. When are our flights?’
‘In three hours, so we may as well go straight to the airport,’ he said. ‘I’ve booked a hotel in Montmartre near where the bar is.’
I called Katrina on the way to the airport to update her on what I’d found out over the last couple of days, but something made me leave out the bit about Adelita. I’d filed away that whole experience in the back of my mind, just in case. But a small part of me also wondered whether I hadn’t told Katrina because of Adelita’s offer to share the story more widely, or because I didn’t trust Katrina not to undercut me and go straight to Adelita.
The train pulled into Gare du Nord and I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder, mentally preparing myself to navigate yet another city and communicate in yet another language.
‘The hotel is on Boulevard de Magenta,’ Nick said as we emerged from the station. The cheery sun peeked through the leaves of the plane trees that lined the road, casting greenish dappled shadows over the footpath. The air was warm, but it was softer and gentler than the dusty, exhausting heat of Rome. My spirits rose immediately.
I looked around and saw a street sign. ‘This is it.’
I stepped further out onto the footpath and stared up the road, trying to work out which way the numbers were going. The frenetic ringing of a bicycle bell startled me and I jumped out of the way just in time as a cyclist swerved and missed me by centimetres. He yelled over his shoulder at me.
Nick grabbed my elbow and pulled me back. ‘You’re on the bike path, doofus.’
For the first time I realised there was a cycle track running up the centre of the footpath. Numerous bicycles glided up and down the streets.
‘I think it’s this way.’ I pointed to the right, but Nick was too busy staring at Google Maps on his phone to pay any attention.
‘It’s this way.’ He pointed in exactly the direction I’d just indicated.
‘Oh, well done.’
As we walked up the tree-lined boulevard, I couldn’t contain my wonder. Where the layout of Rome had been grand and chaotic, its buildings grimy and ancient, Paris was elegant, clean and neat. The stately cream buildings, uniform in size and structure, were radiant in the soft afternoon light, their identical steel terraces catching and reflecting the rays of sun. I could only imagine how wonderful it would be to have the freedom to sit down outside one of the cafes in this beautiful and serene city with a glass of wine and a good book.
Alas, we reached our hotel all too soon and were forced to step out of the warm sun and into the dark lobby.
The woman behind the reception desk greeted us with a friendly smile. ‘Bonjour.’ She was petite, with brown hair and eyes and a sweet face.
‘Bonjour,’ Nick replied in his best pick-up voice. He flirted shamelessly with her during the whole check-in process, and by the time we reached the elevator I was trying unsuccessfully to hide my annoyance.
‘What’s your problem?’ Nick asked as I stabbed the button for our floor.
‘Another city, another girl, hey?’
‘Here we go again. I’m not really sure why you think it’s any of your business.’
‘So this is my punishment for rejecting you?’
‘Punishment? What punishment? I was just flirting with the girl. It’s not like I ravished her on the desk in front of you.’
‘You could try not being such a sleaze.’
‘You could try not being such a butthead.’
When the lift doors opened, I gathered all the graceful disdain I could muster and walked to my room without another word. That was it. I wasn’t going to let him get to me again. From now on, I would be unflappable Sarah. Nick would never know his actions and provocations had any effect on me whatsoever.
I had a quick shower and put on a new set of clothes, then
