‘Not a clue. But I know how to point at things and grunt.’
Mum sighs. ‘If it isn’t like you to have done no preparation at all. Have you learned any of the language?’
‘Only what we did at school. I’m sure I’ll pick it up when I’m there. And the course is in English.’
‘Maybe you’ll meet a nice French man while you’re out there,’ she says hopefully. ‘They’re very handsome, aren’t they?’
‘All of them?’ I ask.
‘You know what I mean! All the French presidents are very good looking.’
‘Maybe that’s how they got to be president,’ I say. ‘All the other French men are so hideously ugly that there was no competition.’
She pulls out a pile of sweaters. ‘I think we’d better start again from the beginning. You’ve put your boots on top of everything. They should have gone in first.’
‘Feel free, if it makes you feel better,’ I say resignedly.
She sits back on her heels, looking anxious. ‘I’m worried about you, going so far away all by yourself.’
It’s barely further than university,’ I say. ‘And you don’t worry about me there.’
‘Of course, I do!’ she says. ‘But we could get to you in a couple of hours in an emergency. It would take us much longer to get to Paris. There’s the Channel, for one thing.’
‘You could always swim.’ I see her anxious look and relent. ‘I’ll be perfectly ok. I’m staying with a family, and several of my friends are going too. It’s only until Easter. I’ll be back before you know it.’
‘Maybe we could come and visit you,’ she says, brightening.
I quail. ‘I don’t think there’ll be time. I’ll be extremely busy with my studies. The exchange program has arranged several trips for us, and my host family says they’ll take me down to their ski lodge one weekend.’
‘It doesn’t leave you much time for meeting anyone,’ she says, returning to the subject like a dog with a bone.
‘Who says I want to meet someone?’ I ask, trying not to smile as I think about Alex.
Mum eyes me keenly. ‘You never tell me anything about your personal life. Are you seeing anyone at university?’
‘Not at the moment.’
She pauses. ‘What about down here?’
My first instinct is to deny that too. But she’s going to find out at the party tonight anyway. I give her an enigmatic smile. ‘You never know.’
‘I won’t say I haven’t had my suspicions,’ she says.
‘I’ve never known you not to have suspicions. But they’re rarely correct.’
She locks the suitcase. ‘Come downstairs and have a cup of tea. You can tell me all about it.’
‘I didn’t actually say there was anything to tell,’ I say, following her. But this seems as good a time as any, and I’m sure Alex won’t mind. For all I know, he’s already told his parents.
As I close my door, there’s a loud crash and a scream, followed by a series of muffled thumps.
I run to the head of the stairs and look down in horror. Mum is lying at the foot of the stairs, crumpled up in a heap.
‘Mum!’ I shriek, racing down the stairs and kneeling next to her.
She doesn’t move. Horrible visions chase each other through my head as I kneel there, panic stricken. I should check whether she’s still breathing. I put a hand on her back.
She groans and rolls over. ‘What happened?’