easily to Kate, as she showed her to her room.
“It’s nice to have someone to talk to now and then. Have
you known Jean-Paul long? I like him a lot, but he is a bit
deep, isn’t he? Doesn’t give away much. I wish you could
stay longer than one night, but I suppose you’ve got a job,
like the rest of us. Although my job is Sacha. You’ll meet
him tomorrow morning, I expect. He’s a demon—four years
old and knows everything! Of course, we christened him
Stephen, but everyone calls him Sacha, I don’t know why.
What lovely hair you’ve got. Do you mind my saying that? I
hope the bed is comfortable. I do hate a lumpy bed, don’t
you?”
Kate was kept busy just nodding or shaking her head.
She did not even try to get a word in edgeways.
After a cup of strong French coffee, Jean-Paul took her
out to lunch at an expensive and luxurious restaurant,
where she ate a shrimp omelette with green salad, and
frothy zabaglione. Afterwards they walked through the
shopping streets, Jean-Paul patiently amused as she
studied the windows with rapture. He took her on a
lightning tour, in his little red sports car, round the famous
landmarks, then drove her back to the Murray apartment
to change.
Clare Murray greeted them cheerfully, carrying a small
boy whose freckled face bore traces of jam and butter.
“Hallo, can’t stop. Sacha has disgraced himself again—
more food on the outside of his face than the inside! Help
yourselves to a chair. I’ll see you later.”
Kate laughed. Jean-Paul stared after Clare with awe.
“She always talks like that,” he confided. “And when she