Paris Crush Read Online Free PDF Page A

to stop myself snatching it from Madame Papillon’s hand.
    I skim the text.
    April . . . Three days, two nights . . . Tour of the Eiffel Tower . . . Breakfast and dinner included . . .
    £350!
    How will my parents ever afford that? We’ve just paid for a new nebulizer for Ben. Dad’s been working overtime since Christmas. We haven’t had a family holiday since forever.
How can I expect them to blow £350 on a trip only I will enjoy?
    As the last of the air splutters from my happy-balloon, I fold up the form. Savannah leans across the aisle and flaps hers in my face. ‘I hope Dad lets me go,’ she squeaks.
‘Can you imagine it? We would have
such
fun!’
    Treacle’s sitting next to me. ‘Jeff’s going on this trip,’ she grins. ‘We could visit the Stade de France together.’ Her eyes are moons. Mine are clouds. I
blink back disappointment. Perhaps I could get a Saturday job and find a way of paying for the trip myself.
    ‘Marcus!’ Savannah’s hissing across her desk. ‘Are you going?’ Marcus is in front of her.
    He turns, smiling. ‘Maybe we’ll get to Disneyland Paris after all.’
    Madame’s ears prick like a cat’s. ‘Disneyland Paris!’ she hisses. ‘This trip is about culture.’
    Bilal leans back in his chair. ‘Disneyland Paris is culture, Miss,’ he argues.
    Zhang Wu, the class brain, nods. ‘Most historians would argue that popular culture is as valid as elitist culture. Disneyland Paris probably provides a better critique of modern society
than the Louvre.’
    ‘I’ve been to the Louvre,’ Rupert chimes in. ‘It was
Louvre
at first sight.’
    Ryan groans. ‘Can’t you stop his jokes, Miss?’
    Rupert objects. ‘I’m
jest
having fun.’ Ryan puts his hands over his ears.
    Rupert turns to Madame Papillon. ‘A trip to Paris sounds fun. There’s nothing
Toulouse
.’
    Madame’s lips tighten. ‘Rupert, I think that if you’re joining us on this trip, you’d better improve your jokes.’
    Rupert salutes. ‘
Oui, Madame
.’
    I zip my trip form into my bag and sigh. Every cloud has a silver lining. If I’m stuck in England while Rupert’s in Paris, I won’t have to listen to his stupid comedy
routine.
    It’s Ben’s night to choose what we watch on TV, which means cars. A large man with a sagging belly and a bulging midlife crisis is declaring undying love for a
four-wheel drive. Ben watches transfixed as the large man announces he’s going to drive to France.
    France
.
    The word rings in my brain like an unanswered phone. I’ve not told Mum and Dad about the Paris trip. I’m not even sure I’m going to. It’s way out of our budget. Why make
them feel guilty? But the thought of it keeps nagging.
    Large TV man is still blithering on. ‘So I’ll drive my big powerful car and boast while my colleagues try to keep up with me on pogo sticks.’
    ‘Mum.’ I hook my legs over her lap. ‘Have you ever been to France?’ Perhaps she’ll say,
No, Gemma, but I’ve always dreamed of having a daughter who’d
go before she was sixteen.
    She doesn’t. But her face suddenly melts into soft focus. ‘I went there with your dad, before we were married.’
    ‘Really?’ I sit up. ‘Where did you go?’
    ‘We went to the Côte D’Azur first, then we headed for Paris.’
    Dad’s at the other end of the sofa with Ben. ‘Our van broke down outside Lyon,’ he chips in. ‘By the time it was fixed, we’d run out of time and had to head
straight for the ferry.’
    Mum sighs wistfully. ‘I was looking forward to Paris.’
    Dad stretches out a hand and wiggles her knee affectionately. ‘One day, honey.’
    ‘Shh!’ Ben pokes Dad hard in the belly and stares fiercely at the TV. ‘I can’t hear.’
    The TV glazes in front of my eyes. How can I even ask about Paris when it’s Mum’s dream city and she’s never been?
    The doorbell buzzes.
    ‘I’ll get it.’ Mum heaves herself to her feet and heads into the hall. Five seconds later, Treacle and Savannah bounce in