Page 10 of Be Less Panda

The living room had two small windows, partially obscured by heavy curtains, which made it quite dark even though it was still broad daylight outside. ‘If you’re up to walking a few more steps, I’ll show you around our stately home,’ Olivia said.

Nancy reluctantly got up again.

‘I’m through there.’ Olivia pointed to an open door to another room with a double bed, a large wardrobe similar to the ones in Nancy’s grandmother’s mansion, and an ornate dressing table. ‘And this one’s yours.’

Nancy looked into a bedroom that was just big enough to hold the single bed pushed next to the window. She opened the door in the corner, which revealed a small closet.

‘There’s some space in my wardrobe if you’re stuck.’ Olivia sounded apologetic. ‘But you have a great view if that’s any consolation.’

Nancy knelt on the bed and opened the net curtains. Olivia was right. The top-floor window had a view across the local rooftops. In the distance, the Eiffel Tower broke the skyline - a picture postcard scene. She’d have to photograph it at some point, but she was too tired to get her camera now.

‘Welcome to Paris, Nancy.’

The following morning, Nancy awoke to the sound of her alarm clock ringing on the floor beside the bed. At least the lack of space for a bedside table forced her to get out of bed to turn it off. Otherwise, she’d have preferred to turn over and go back to sleep. She groaned as her stiff arms and shoulders objected to moving. She should’ve packed less. She headed across the living room to the bathroom. The sound of Olivia singing in French drifted through the door.

‘Are you going to be long?’ Nancy shouted.

‘Five minutes. Make the coffee, will you.’

Nancy headed to the kitchenette area and looked around for a jar of Nescafe. There was no sign of one anywhere, but she did find a bag labelled ‘café’.

She grabbed two coffee cups from the solitary wall cupboard, boiled some water on the hob, and put a spoonful of coffee in each cup. Despite vigorous stirring, the coffee didn’t dissolve very well. Perhaps the grains were supposed to settle.

She put Olivia’s cup of black coffee on the dining table while she looked in the fridge for milk for hers. Olivia emerged from the bathroom.

‘That’s super, thank you.’ She picked up the cup and drank. She spluttered. ‘Nancy, what did you do?’

Nancy explained.

Olivia laughed. ‘It’s not instant. You need the cafetière.’

‘I need what?’

Olivia grabbed a glass jug with a chrome lid and a plunger. ‘This. Didn’t you have one at home?’

‘No, I’ve never seen one of those before.’

‘Watch and learn,’ Olivia said as she put the coffee grounds inside the cafetière along with hot water from the kettle, then attached the lid. ‘We leave it for four minutes to brew.’

‘Isn’t instant a lot easier?’

‘Yes, but it doesn’t taste as good.’ Olivia disappeared into her room to get dressed while Nancy swilled away her failed coffee-making attempt.

‘Should be ready now,’ Olivia said, returning to the kitchenette. Nancy watched as she pushed down the plunger and poured the dark, hot liquid into the freshly washed cups. She handed one to Nancy.

Nancy took a tentative sip and grimaced. ‘That’s so bitter. I’ll stick to tea. I assume there’s no weird French device for making that?’

‘No,’ Olivia laughed, passing her a teapot and a jar labelled thé. ‘Will you be alright going to the bookshop on your own? Madame Dubois wanted to get all her daily admin jobs done before she started training you today, so she’s expecting you at half past ten, but I’ve got to be at work before that.’

‘I’ll be fine.’ Nancy had looked at a new map that Olivia had drawn her last night. The bookshop was only three streets away.

Nancy went into her bedroom and returned, clutching a pair of trousers and a Crimplene dress. ‘What should I wear?’

‘Definitely the dress - stick to whatever you wore to the office at home. Technically, it’s illegal for women to wear trousers here.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously, though, I doubt you’d get arrested. I think it has more to do with stopping you from rebelling during the revolution.’

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