Page 15 of Be Less Panda

‘Apfelschnaps, ladies?’ Ingrid asked.

Nancy opened her eyes again to see Ingrid with a tray of shot glasses filled with a clear liquid.

‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ Olivia replied.

‘But I’ve never had Apfelschnaps,’ Nancy protested.

‘And you’re not having it now.’ Olivia sounded adamant about that. Nancy knew there was no point in arguing with her when she used that tone of voice.

‘I think we should go back home so you can sleep off what you’ve drunk already,’ Olivia suggested. ‘Though how I’mgoing to manage to get you across the road and up four flights of stairs, I’m not quite sure.’

That was the last thing that Nancy remembered before drifting off into a strange dream about being dragged along a tarmac path by a horse and then falling into a soft white cloud, though it was baffling how you could fall into a cloud in the sky when you were lying on the ground.

10

When Nancy arrived at the bookshop the following morning, Madame Dubois looked her up and down, raised an eyebrow, and suggested that she tidy the books on the second floor. Nancy smiled appreciatively. Her head was throbbing, and sudden movement or loud noises were not what she needed this morning. An hour earlier, she’d not been convinced that she would actually manage to get washed and dressed, let alone walk to work. The relative peace and quiet of the history section would be a perfect place to recover from last night’s excesses.

She slowly climbed the stairs and walked through the archway into Floor 2’s sales area. It was smaller than the lower floors. Nancy assumed that Madame Dubois’s private rooms took up more space up here. The table of recommended books in the middle desperately needed tidying, but if she tried that now, she was sure her brain would explode through her eye sockets. It would have to wait until her hangover had eased sufficiently to allow her to look down without being in pain. Nancy headed for the bookshelves at the back of the room. She’d concentrate on sorting the books at eye level until the aspirin Olivia had given her at breakfast kicked in.

She had settled into rearranging the Ancient History section into alphabetical order when she heard a polite cough.

Nancy turned to see a tall man leaning casually against one of the bookshelves near the stairs. He looked amused. He was about Nancy’s age, possibly a little older. It was difficult to be sure as he was dressed quite conservatively in a suit and tie. The suit didn’t fit him very well, and his hair was unusually short. He wasn’t a follower of fashion, obviously.

‘Can I help you?’ Nancy asked abruptly, put out that he seemed to find what she was doing entertaining.

‘Possibly.’ He gave her a lopsided grin and walked over to the table. ‘I’m looking for a copy ofBleak House.’

His words were perfect, but he had an accent. Not French. Dutch maybe?

‘Charles Dickens?’ she asked.

‘Yes. Is there another one?’

‘No. I just wanted to make sure we were talking about the same book. I’m afraid you won’t find it on this floor. It will be downstairs in classic fiction.’

‘Perhaps you could show me.’

‘Of course.’ Nancy led the way down the stairs, concentrating hard to keep her head level. She could feel him looking at her as they walked down to the ground floor. It ought to feel creepy, but somehow it didn’t. He grinned at her again as she pointed to the shelf near the shop’s front door. ‘Do I amuse you?’ she asked him directly.

‘I find you pleasing to look at.’

Nancy wasn’t sure how she felt about that, though as she’d only spoken a few words to him, he was hardly going to say it was her witty repartee that attracted him. With his sparkling blue eyes and strong jawline, Nancy was finding him pleasing to look at, too.

‘You don’t remember me, do you?’ he said.

‘No. Should I?’ Nancy was puzzled that she couldn’t recall him at all. She prided herself on having an excellent memory for faces.

‘I’m somewhat disappointed that you don’t.’

Nancy tried to concentrate. He carried on before she could reply. ‘I was at Ingrid and Christa’s party last night.’

Oh God. He must have turned up after she had downed that lethal blue cocktail. ‘Were you? I don’t remember seeing you there.’

‘We had a conversation about horses while I was helping your friend to get you back to your apartment.’ He looked slightly abashed.

That explained it. Nancy had no recollection of how she’d ended up back in her own bed. She’d assumed Olivia had guided her there alone, but it sounded as if she’d needed help.

‘I’m afraid I don’t remember much at all after Christa’s rather generous cocktails.’

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