Page 39 of Be Less Panda

‘I thought you said you’d got it all planned out.’

‘I had, but the price has gone up. Our captain has gone overboard on the refit.’

Hans looked shocked. ‘She’s fallen in the sea?’

Nancy smiled. ‘No, she’s fine. It means she spent more than she intended.’

‘Oh. I had not heard that phrase before. So what are you going to do?’

‘Stop eating?’

‘I can help with that a little. I can save you some money on food this evening,’ he said with a grin. ‘Would you like to join me for a meal?’

‘At yours?’

‘No. A meal in a restaurant cooked by a proper chef this time. One who comes highly recommended. I will pay. I’m sure there is a better way to say that.’

‘My treat?’

‘Yes, that’s it. My treat. It’s my birthday, so you would be doing me a kindness by not letting me eat alone.’

‘Happy Birthday! I’m sorry I haven’t got you a present.’

‘As I didn’t tell you it was my birthday, I don’t think you need to apologise,’ he said. ‘The pleasure of your company will more than make up for it.’

‘You’re a gentleman, Hans,’ she smiled.

‘I try hard to be.’

‘The restaurant is only a few minutes’ away,’ Hans said as they set off up the street. ‘It’s called Les Deux Chat Noir.’

After a few turns, he pointed to an ornate Art Nouveau clock on the wall opposite with two black cats painted on the dial. ‘We have arrived,’ he said, crossing the road and holding the door open for her.

The maitre d’ recognised him straightway. ‘Bonjour, Monsieur Schmidt,’ he nodded. ‘One moment.’ He headed towards the back of the restaurant.

‘You’ve been here before then?’ Nancy asked, suspecting that this was one of the venues where he used to woo Christa. Had he brought the woman with the white hair streak here, too?

‘I’ve eaten here a few times. It was good, but there is a new chef now, one who is even better than the previous one.’

The maitre d’ returned. ‘Your usual table is ready, monsieur,’ he said, ushering the pair of them to a cosy corner at the back of the restaurant. ‘I trust this is fine?’

‘Yes, excellent, thank you,’ Hans said.

The maitre d’ pulled out Nancy’s chair and settled her at the table, handing her the thick linen napkin.

‘I will be back to take your order shortly,’ the maitre d’ said, bowing slightly, as another waiter placed the menus and the wine list on the table.

‘This is posh,’ Nancy said, stroking the expensive leather on the menu.

‘Posh? Is that bad?’ he asked, sounding worried.

‘No. It means expensive, something that is good quality.’

‘You deserve something posh,’ he laughed. ‘I suspect you are used to posh restaurants at home.’

Nancy laughed. She loved how he tried out new words as soon as he learnt them. ‘Sadly not. My father considers eating out to be a major extravagance.’

‘I thought you said he owned a factory.’

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