Paris Love Match - By Nigel Blackwell Page 0,38
that helps clarify everything, doesn’t it.”
She turned away from him and faced the girl. “I’m going to need a coat. Wool. Something durable.” Sidney cast a disparaging glance at Piers, “You better get him . . . something similar.”
The girl disappeared behind a multicolored series of overlapping circles and emerged with two coats. Black. Matching.
“Twee,” Piers said.
“No,” said the girl, a shocked look on her face, “Ralph Lauren.”
They both tried them on. Piers’ was too tight. He handed it back. Sidney took hers off. “I’d better have a larger size, too.”
The girl looked puzzled. “But it seemed to fit perfectly, madame.”
Sidney shook her head. “I’m going to need something with a bit more room to move. Life’s been action-packed since he turned up.”
The girl smiled.
Sidney shook her head and frowned. “Sadly, it’s not what you might think. So far today I’ve been shot at, been rescued by an idiot on a motorbike, been threatened by the mob—”
Piers’ face fell. “Sidney, stop it.”
“Forced down a garbage chute—”
“Sidney.” Piers grabbed her elbow.
“Showered in a public cubicle,” she shook him off, “forced to lie—”
“Sidney.”
“And gained a dog.”
The girl’s eyes went wide. The features of her face seemed to move in slow motion. “Oh. My. God.” Her hand flew to her face and she started bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”
Piers touched Sidney on the arm “I think we need to go.”
“No!” said the girl. She rushed around and stared at Piers’ face from different angles. “My god. You’re the man on the motorbike, the guy on TV. I should have known. Everyone’s talking about you. That was soooo brave.”
“Brave?” said Sidney, her face screwed up.
“Oui, how he rescued you. C’est magnifique!”
“You obviously don’t know him like I do.”
The girl clutched Sidney’s arm. “You are so lucky.”
“I’m lucky to even be alive after meeting him.”
The girl shook her head in awe. “In the middle of such danger, he whisks you away. It is soooo romantic.”
Piers looked at Sidney with a smile that she didn’t return.
“Okay. We need to go,” Piers said.
The girl’s eyes widened even further. “Oh non, non, wait, wait.” She pulled out an iPhone from behind her counter. “I need a picture. Pleeeaaase.”
“This might be exciting news for you, but we’re trying to keep a low profile.”
The girl waved her hands. “I know, I know. Now you are being hunted by the police. It’s like, like, like Bonnie and Clyde. Ahhhh. It is so romantic.”
Piers stared at her. “Bonny and Clyde ended up dead.”
The girl shrugged and regained her composure. “Please, you must let me have a photograph.”
“Well.”
Sidney put her arm through Piers’. She gave her best smile and hugged him toward her. He joined her smile and the girl took a picture. She waved her phone in front of Sidney who oohed at the photo.
“Just one more,” said the girl, “please?”
She took several more, moving them around the small shop, snapping away.
“Okay, we’ve really got to go,” said Piers.
Sidney flipped through the pictures on the phone while the girl added up the bill.
“Can we have a talk,” whispered Sidney, dragging him into the cubicle. She took a deep breath. “This isn’t working out as I planned.”
“Meaning?”
“Well, she’s nice.”
“And?”
“Nice. She’s nice. She’s so excited to see us, and she took pictures … of us. So, we can’t, I mean, I can’t, maybe you can, but I can’t . . .”
“What? Can’t what?”
Sidney leaned in close. “Run out on her.”
“Run out on her? In these clothes? Was that your plan coming here? Try a few things on and steal them?”
Sidney crossed her eyebrows. “All right. We’re not all blessed with a sugar mummy.”
“I don’t have a sugar mummy.”
“She’s phoned you twice in one day. I’d say she’s looking after you.”
“She just doesn’t have anything else to do.”
“Except look after you.”
“All right, all right. So, if your master plan of stealing these things isn’t on, what now? I don’t have enough cash, and I’m guessing you don’t either since I’ve paid for everything since we met.”
“Oh, right, money. Just like a man.”
“Look, I’m just trying to be practical.”
“Oh, yeah, the dog catcher, you’re all about practical.”
“What’s that supposed … oh, never mind.”
She stared at him and he stared back. He cracked first. “I have to pay with a credit card, don’t I?”
She gave a sheepish smile. “She’s been so nice. Took pictures and everything.”
“Pictures? Is that all you think of?”
“Pictures are important.”
“What’s important is that the police will have our location