Free The Train to Paris by Sebastian Hampson Page B

been reading about. Ed nodded along like a bored parent.
    â€˜Boy, that sounds interesting,’ he drawled. ‘So what are you hoping to do with your degree?’
    â€˜I never really set out with a plan. I just want to do something that interests me.’
    â€˜Fair enough, kid. You’re young. Hell, I didn’t know what I was doing until I hit thirty. Then I decided to turn my life around. And look where I am now.’
    â€˜Well, we’re both here,’ I said. He ignored me. I wondered what my role was in this conversation, if I even had one. He and Élodie continued to talk without me. I excused myself to the bathroom.
    The table was near to the doorway, separated by a pillar, and I realised that I could hear them from the other side of it. I drew in close, so that I would not be standing in the way of the waiters, and tried to make out what they were saying. They were laughing, and it took them a while to recover.
    â€˜Who the hell is that guy?’ Selvin asked.
    â€˜I don’t know,’ she said dismissively. ‘He’s a project. I wanted to have some fun if I had to be stuck here. Trust me, if I had known that you were going to be here then I wouldn’t have bothered.’
    â€˜And what about Marcel?’
    â€˜ What about Marcel? Darling, you know what I should do. I will kick my way out if I have to.’
    â€˜You probably won’t get a chance. How do you think he will react when he finds out what you’ve been doing?’
    â€˜It really doesn’t concern me. How will Vanessa react when she finds out about me?’ She drawled the name, as though it was the most absurd that she had ever heard.
    â€˜She won’t.’
    â€˜But you want her to. You want another excuse to escape.’
    â€˜You flatter yourself.’
    â€˜And yet it is an attractive prospect, wouldn’t you say?’
    â€˜It sure is,’ he said. ‘But I need to know that I can trust you. I need to know that you won’t go running off with the project, or whatever the hell he is. It’s no way for a woman of forty-five to behave.’
    â€˜Oh Ed, don’t pretend you know how old I am. But don’t worry. The last thing that I need is another lovelorn puppy hanging off my arm.’
    I decided to leave. Surely I was more than that? Surely she saw more in me? I recalled what she had said about potential in the taxi. She could have changed her mind. She might never have made up her mind about me. And she could say whatever she wanted about me when I was gone and I would never have to hear it. I took a step towards the exit.
    But then I stopped myself. Biarritz was no less alien than Hendaye. There was nowhere to go in the night with no money. I thought about sleeping on a park bench, clinging to my suitcase and waiting for the sunrise. That would be a bitter dénouement. And Élodie would keep playing to this script without me. I wanted to see where it would take me, if I were to keep acting out this role that may or may not have been written for me. There were no other lavish film sets in this town. There was only the park bench.
    These thoughts drove me to abandon my hiding place, even though the timing was wrong. I returned to the table. Élodie continued to talk as if nothing had happened, while Selvin was tense and unhappy about being interrupted.
    â€˜That was fast,’ she said. ‘We were discussing your fascinating account of… What was it? Le Violon d’Ingres ?’
    â€˜Something like that.’
    The two of them might as well have been a married couple, and me their unwanted child. Selvin’s cheeks were flushed and veiny. His eyes were tired but not kind.
    â€˜Say, I fancy a smoke,’ he said. ‘You like cigars, kid?’
    â€˜Can’t say that I do.’
    â€˜He’s never tried one before,’ Élodie said, ‘so he wouldn’t know. I say it’s a fabulous idea. We can have our