Page 10 of The Paris Trip

‘You drive awfully fast,’ she said out loud, without really thinking through how that would sound.

Rude, she realised a split-second late, grimacing. Very, very rude. And ungrateful. Yet again.

But it was said now.

He hesitated before answering, ‘This is my normal speed.’ He sounded mildly surprised.

Maeve tried not to say anything else about it. She pressed her lips tightly together and stared straight ahead. But as he weaved like a maniac through a busy intersection, almost hitting another equally fast-moving motorist and practically scraping the side of a lumbering night bus, she blurted out, ‘Do you have many accidents?’

‘Never.’ There was a short silence as he slowed for a red light ahead, which kindly turned back to green before they reached it. Though ‘slowed’ didn’t really sum up the jolting change from insanely fast to almost dead-stop, returning to insanely fast at such a pace that Maeve could have sworn she felt her brain hit the back of her head and rebound, wobbling painfully. ‘Well, perhaps once.’

‘Perhaps? Either you had an accident or you didn’t.’

‘It was the other driver’s fault.’

‘Oh, naturally.’

He flashed her a sharp look. ‘You know I’m doing you a favour, oui?’

‘Yes, of course. Sorry.’

She felt ridiculously tearful again, and clasped her hands in her lap. Her empty hands. No purse with cash and cards to help her navigate the world like everyone else. No phone to check for messages or social media updates. No notebook crammed with important times and dates and instructions so she wouldn’t be late for whatever came next. Not even a bag containing a modicum of make-up, plus her sunglasses, lip balm, hand sanitiser, crossword book and other vital knick-knacks.

‘I didn’t mean to criticize you,’ she went on. ‘In fact, you’ve been marvellously kind, taking me in like this. I was just trying to distract myself.’

‘No, I’m the one who should be sorry.’ Leo slackened off his pace, turning a corner and heading uphill at a more reasonable speed. Which was still too fast for her. ‘I had forgotten how much slower the British drive. No wonder you were scared.’

‘Not scared,’ she said at once, sitting up straight, lips pursed. ‘I just thought maybe you were in training for a Formula One race.’

He laughed then, a hoarse bark of genuine amusement. ‘Now you sound like my grandmother.’

She sneaked a shy look at him, studying his lean, hawkish profile. ‘You know the UK well, then? I suppose you must. You speak very good English.’

‘My mother is British.’

‘Oh, really? Will I meet her? And your father?’

‘My father hasn’t lived with us in years.’ Leo was looking ahead, not at her, but she sensed a shift in atmosphere, his hands tightening on the wheel. She instantly regretted having made him uncomfortable. Her insatiable curiosity again, always asking questions… ‘And my mother is dead.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ Now she felt awful.

‘No need to be. It was all a long time ago. Anyway, I wouldn’t worry about your lost passport. I’ll drive you back to the embassy tomorrow morning and I’m sure it will all be sorted out soon enough.’ He paused, frowning. ‘But even if it takes another day or so, we’re very happy to put you up at Château Rémy. I left my sister Bernadette sorting out a guest room for you. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us.’

Maeve stared at him, taken aback. Château Rémy? That sounded rather grand. ‘It must be a big house,’ she said cautiously. ‘I’m very grateful to your sister too. Are there many people living there, or just you, your grandmother and Bernadette?’

He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. ‘I wish! No, we always have a full house at the château. Cousins, siblings, hangers-on.’ When she said nothing, feeling awkward, he glanced at her sideways. ‘I wasn’t including you in that category, of course. You are very welcome to stay. If you hadn’t so kindly stopped to help my grandmother, none of this would have happened to you. You would have been on that ferry back to England by now, n’est-ce pas?’

He really was rather good at reading her mind, she realised, which made her a little uneasy.

‘True, but I think that debt has been well and truly repaid by now, don’t you think? You and your family have been more than generous, Monsieur Rémy.’

‘Leo, please. But let’s not talk about my family. Between you and me, talking about my family gives me a headache. What about you? Is there anyone at home you need to contact? Mother? Father?’ His dark gaze flashed to her ring finger, which was bare. But he still added speculatively, ‘A boyfriend or husband expecting you off the boat tonight?’ He paused. ‘Or a girlfriend, perhaps?’

This made her gurgle with laughter. ‘No, no boyfriend or husband. And no, I’m not gay, so no girlfriend either. Plus, my parents are both dead.’

‘My apologies,’ he said gravely. ‘I didn’t mean to pry.’

‘Oh yes, you did.’

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