‘Oh God, I forgot! Do we have to?’
‘Absolutely! Your wardrobe’s appalling, Jack. You can’t keep turning up in jeans and checked shirts all the time. And that infernal bomber jacket! The country-boy-from-Oz image is wearing thin, believe me.’
‘It is? I hadn’t noticed.’
‘In here, Jack,’ said Rebecca, taking Jack by the hand. ‘Armani. That’s you.’
‘I feel like a five-year-old getting his first sailor suit.’
‘For goodness’ sake, Jack! Just for once, do as you’re told!’
i thought it took a little more than that,’ Jack suggested meekly.
There was no reply.
He paled when he was handed the bill by the smiling shop assistant, but wisely held his tongue.
‘One good thing about all this gear, I suppose,’ said Jack, pointing to the Armani bags on the footpath, ‘I should fit in rather well …’
‘Fit in where?’ asked Rebecca, trying in vain to flag down a cab in the crowded street.
‘When we meet the countess …’
‘What on earth are you talking about?’
‘Anna Popov’s mother is a Russian countess,’ answered Jack.
‘What?’
‘You heard. Not only that, she runs a boutique hotel just outside Paris. We’re going to stay there on Saturday,’ he added, casually.
‘We can’t do that!’ Rebecca almost shouted. ‘You have commitments!’
‘Haven’t you forgotten something?’ replied Jack, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper – his list of UK engagements – and pointed to a particular entry. ‘It says here – in black and white, I might add – “weekend free”.’
‘Yes, but …’ protested Rebecca.
Jack held up the piece of paper and shrugged.
‘The weekend’s on me, by the way. I booked the best suite in the chateau. It’ll do you good, you’ll see. Especially after all this shopping. Look, here comes an empty one,’ said Jack. Stepping off the curb, he whistled like a coachman pulling up a brewery horse. The cab stopped and Jack opened the door for Rebecca. ‘Après vu, mademoiselle. Don’t forget the bags.’
‘You are incorrigible,’ said Rebecca, clenching her fists in mock frustration. ‘I don’t know why I bother!’
‘What’s wrong? I’m just practising my French for our little weekend away.’
PS Don’t forget to visit us again next Friday for your next instalment of The Disappearance Of Anna Popov. Or better still, may I invite you to subscribe to our blogs, Letters from the Attic, and you will be notified when a new one is due. That way, you will never miss out!
