WINTER WONDERLAND Read Online Free PDF Page B

quickly set down the clattering coffee cup and switch to a more manageable glass of orange juice. Just do it – just waltz back over to the table with a cheery, ‘ Bonjour! ’
    ‘So of course you know Gilles from last night … ’ Annique places one hand on his back, the other on his forearm, as if presenting a prize on a game show.
    ‘Yes I do.’
    ‘And how was that?’ she asks.
    ‘Um … ’ I give him a panicked look.
    ‘The photography went well?’
    ‘Oh yes, very good,’ he muffles.
    ‘Lens didn’t get too steamed up?’
    ‘Pardon?’ I gulp.
    ‘With so much cold air … ’
    I look to Gilles.
    ‘It was fine.’
    ‘I’d love to see the images.’
    ‘Just as soon as I’ve had a chance to edit them,’ Gilles flushes.
    Oh this is horrendous! But now I’m even more confused. They obviously didn’t spend last night together. Or what was left of it after he was done with me …
    ‘Gilles, why don’t you get some breakfast and then we can talk about our plans for the day?’
    Annique and I watch him head to the buffet, her seemingly admiring the view, me just waiting until he’s out of earshot.
    ‘So … ’ I begin. ‘Have you two known each other long?’
    ‘ Non ,’ she says with a coquettish head tilt. ‘Just three days.’ And then she adds, ‘ Trois jours … ’ with such breathy wonder she may as well be saying, ‘ Three miraculous sex-filled days … ’
    I am at a loss for a response.
    ‘We met to discuss this project and then … ’ She gives the classic Gallic shrug. ‘ Voilà! ’
    ‘ Voilà ,’ I repeat.
    ‘I love how passionate he is about his work.
    ‘Isn’t he just … ’
    When Gilles returns to the table I see him hesitate for a second – who should he sit beside? But Annique quickly clears her coat and suggests he take the chair nearest the window, in case he wants to take pictures. Which he does. Conveniently covering his face with the camera for the majority of our meeting.
    ‘And what is that building?’ he asks, pointing over to our furthest right.
    Annique looks to me, testing my memory.
    ‘That’s Parliament,’ I tell him.
    ‘I think I just walked past that on the way here.’
    ‘Yes, you see the Carnival lies just beyond it?’
    As they reposition themselves for a better look, I retreat inward. In the background I can hear Annique reeling off the list of activities she has planned and though I am ooohing in the appropriate places, I don’t hear any of them. All I can think about is getting back to the room to call Laurie.
    And then the two of them slip into French, making me feel even more the odd-woman-out. Instead of saying something, I pretend to be oblivious, captivated by the view, which actually isn’t too much of a stretch – why, I would like to know, is snow tumbling from just that one roof down there? Wouldn’t the wind be catching the whole row? It’s then I realise there are two men with shovels – or rakes or brooms or some custom-made combo of the three – systematically brushing and scraping the snow off the edge and sending it cascading down onto the street below. And I thought chimney sweeps had tough working conditions.
    Annique notices my stare and tells me that it is a safety precaution, but I have to say the houses look far prettier heaped with snow – while its neighbours have the equivalent of a full head of hair, the cleared one looks as if it got its head shaved with semiblunt clippers, leaving scrappy little patches—
    ‘Okay,’ Annique interrupts my inner pontifications. ‘Time to go.’
    Oh thank goodness.
    ‘So I’ll just go back to the room and get into my warm gear and then meet you in the lobby?’
    ‘Perfect.’
    I can’t get out of there quick enough. But of course they are right behind me and there is an interminable wait for the lift. At one point I hear her give a girlish giggle behind me and I feel sick.
    ‘This is a nightmare!’ I wail to Laurie via Skype. ‘And look at what I have to wear