fascinated. I’m trying not to picture little legless frogs in tiny wheelchairs, staring sadly into an empty pond.
David’s knife finally cuts through a kneecap. The little froggy stump flies off his plate in a burst of gravy, before arcing over the silverware and landing, with perfect precision, in the
middle of Barbara’s beautifully framed cleavage.
She squeals and stiffens in shock as the stump disappears deep into her jacket. David turns ninja, reacting with such speed that he blurs in my vision. Without stopping to think, he thrusts his
hand in pursuit of his escaped frog-stump. His expression is perfect as his thoughts catch up with his actions. He’s leaning across the table, his hand down Barbara’s jacket. His face
freezes.
Meanwhile, Barbara’s
un
freezing. With a scream, she pulls away and clutches her chest. David’s hand pops out. He’s holding the frog-stump.
Sam starts to clap. ‘That was a great save, Dave,’ he grins.
Poor Barbara is flapping and red-faced while Cindy tries to calm her. Rupert leaps to his feet and starts dabbing at Barbara’s gravy-stained jacket with his napkin. She fights him off,
squawking like a wet hen.
David sits down, lays the frog-stump on the side of his plate and calmly wipes his hand. ‘No harm done.’
Barbara stops in her tracks and glares at him. Her pink jacket is polka-dotted with frog-juice. Her hair has escaped its chignon and is flapping round her face. ‘
No harm
done?
’
‘What’s all the fuss?’ David crosses his arms sulkily. ‘It was just an accident.’
Rupert sits back down. ‘The waiter must think we’re insane.’ He pauses. ‘And we didn’t even have to jump in the river.’ He reaches out and grabs my hand.
‘River. In-Seine. Get it?’
‘Got it,’ I answer, unimpressed. Then I notice Sam. His delight at David’s flying frog leg has gone. He’s watching Rupert laugh heartily at his own joke, his expression
stony. Clearly, Sam is not impressed with Rupert’s wit.
As I untangle my hand from Rupert’s, Cindy leans closer to Sam. ‘Be a honey and refill Barbara’s water.’ I wait for her Sugar Plum Fairy act to uncrease his brow. But he
just frowns harder and sploshes water ungraciously into Barbara’s glass.
I glance round the table. David’s sulking, Sam’s scowling. Cindy’s helping Barbara towards the Ladies, so she can clean up and calm down. Rupert’s the only one
smiling.
This is turning out to be the lunch from Hell.
Wistfully, I wonder how Treacle and Savannah are getting on.
I look up and marvel at the great glass roof pyramiding above us as we file into the Louvre. Not even Willy Wonka could have dreamed up something that amazing. A wide blue
April sky shows beyond the thousands of triangular panes of glass. Tourists swarm round us, floating up escalators, queuing at ticket counters, bumbling around like lost sheep.
‘Green Park High!’ Madame Papillon’s voice wails over the murmuring of the crowds.
‘This way.’ Rupert grabs my hand and starts dragging me through the crowds. I glance over my shoulder and glimpse Cindy steering Barbara behind us. David and Sam dodge between
sightseers to keep up.
I get a glimpse of Madame Papillon, flapping students towards her like a ruffled chicken. Then I see a flash of chestnut hair and a streak of black.
‘Treacle!’ I break free of Rupert and push my way through to Treacle and Savannah. We hug like long-lost sisters.
‘How was lunch?’ Treacle asks.
‘Don’t ask.’ I know they’d love to hear about the frog leg incident, but they won’t understand what a setback it is in my David and Barbara love plan. ‘How
was yours?’
‘Wonderful!’ Savannah beams. ‘Marcus found this cute little noodle bar that serves the best Thai-French fusion food in Paris.’
‘Cool!’ I wonder if I’d made a mistake choosing Cindy’s group instead of staying with Treacle and Savannah. I certainly hadn’t smoothed the path of true love. I
might
David’s knife finally cuts through a kneecap. The little froggy stump flies off his plate in a burst of gravy, before arcing over the silverware and landing, with perfect precision, in the
middle of Barbara’s beautifully framed cleavage.
She squeals and stiffens in shock as the stump disappears deep into her jacket. David turns ninja, reacting with such speed that he blurs in my vision. Without stopping to think, he thrusts his
hand in pursuit of his escaped frog-stump. His expression is perfect as his thoughts catch up with his actions. He’s leaning across the table, his hand down Barbara’s jacket. His face
freezes.
Meanwhile, Barbara’s
un
freezing. With a scream, she pulls away and clutches her chest. David’s hand pops out. He’s holding the frog-stump.
Sam starts to clap. ‘That was a great save, Dave,’ he grins.
Poor Barbara is flapping and red-faced while Cindy tries to calm her. Rupert leaps to his feet and starts dabbing at Barbara’s gravy-stained jacket with his napkin. She fights him off,
squawking like a wet hen.
David sits down, lays the frog-stump on the side of his plate and calmly wipes his hand. ‘No harm done.’
Barbara stops in her tracks and glares at him. Her pink jacket is polka-dotted with frog-juice. Her hair has escaped its chignon and is flapping round her face. ‘
No harm
done?
’
‘What’s all the fuss?’ David crosses his arms sulkily. ‘It was just an accident.’
Rupert sits back down. ‘The waiter must think we’re insane.’ He pauses. ‘And we didn’t even have to jump in the river.’ He reaches out and grabs my hand.
‘River. In-Seine. Get it?’
‘Got it,’ I answer, unimpressed. Then I notice Sam. His delight at David’s flying frog leg has gone. He’s watching Rupert laugh heartily at his own joke, his expression
stony. Clearly, Sam is not impressed with Rupert’s wit.
As I untangle my hand from Rupert’s, Cindy leans closer to Sam. ‘Be a honey and refill Barbara’s water.’ I wait for her Sugar Plum Fairy act to uncrease his brow. But he
just frowns harder and sploshes water ungraciously into Barbara’s glass.
I glance round the table. David’s sulking, Sam’s scowling. Cindy’s helping Barbara towards the Ladies, so she can clean up and calm down. Rupert’s the only one
smiling.
This is turning out to be the lunch from Hell.
Wistfully, I wonder how Treacle and Savannah are getting on.
I look up and marvel at the great glass roof pyramiding above us as we file into the Louvre. Not even Willy Wonka could have dreamed up something that amazing. A wide blue
April sky shows beyond the thousands of triangular panes of glass. Tourists swarm round us, floating up escalators, queuing at ticket counters, bumbling around like lost sheep.
‘Green Park High!’ Madame Papillon’s voice wails over the murmuring of the crowds.
‘This way.’ Rupert grabs my hand and starts dragging me through the crowds. I glance over my shoulder and glimpse Cindy steering Barbara behind us. David and Sam dodge between
sightseers to keep up.
I get a glimpse of Madame Papillon, flapping students towards her like a ruffled chicken. Then I see a flash of chestnut hair and a streak of black.
‘Treacle!’ I break free of Rupert and push my way through to Treacle and Savannah. We hug like long-lost sisters.
‘How was lunch?’ Treacle asks.
‘Don’t ask.’ I know they’d love to hear about the frog leg incident, but they won’t understand what a setback it is in my David and Barbara love plan. ‘How
was yours?’
‘Wonderful!’ Savannah beams. ‘Marcus found this cute little noodle bar that serves the best Thai-French fusion food in Paris.’
‘Cool!’ I wonder if I’d made a mistake choosing Cindy’s group instead of staying with Treacle and Savannah. I certainly hadn’t smoothed the path of true love. I
might
Similar Books
