The Freefall Trilogy (Complete Collection) (20 page)

Her blue eyes cut him dead, mid-snigger.

'I like them,' she squeaked, smile disintegrating, cheeks flaring up.

'Very good, Mademoiselle.  May I say, an excellent choice.'

She beamed up at the waiter.  Josh glared at him.

'And to drink?  ...I think
ze Saint-Aubin will go very well with ze frog's legs,' the waiter told Lucy with a flirtatious giggle.

Josh swallowed.

I'm going to deck you in a minute...

'I'll just stick to the water,' Lucy told him, crinkling her nose.

'Very good.  And for you, Monsieur?' the waiter asked impassively, as an afterthought.

'Just a cola, please.'

The waiter didn't even look at him.  He was still eyeing up Lucy.  Joshua saw his lips twitch.

'I'm sorry, Sir,' he said, in thinly veiled contempt.  'We don't sell children's drinks here.'

Joshua chewed his lips.  Fifty quid a head to sit there and be snarked at? 

'Water then,' Joshua snapped, 'You know. 
Wasser, agua... l'eau?'

The waiter's gaze bounced up in surprise.  Joshua wasn't taking anymore of his shit. 

'Very good, Monsieur,' the waiter said meekly, taking back the menus, squirming beneath Joshua's angry stare.  He turned on his heels and scuttled away.

Lucy smirked back at him.

'Oh, you've done it now!' she snickered.

Josh frowned at her.

'...What do you mean?'

'Honey, you piss off the waiter
after
you eat,' she smirked.  'Never before.  I dread to think what you're going to get served up on your plate.'

Josh stared at her.

He wouldn't dare...

'He was flirting with you,' Joshua grumbled.

She grinned.

'You were jealous!'

His green eyes flared.

'Of course I was!'

He felt her squeezing his thigh under the table.

'Aw!  That's so sweet...' 

She turned away from him, waving her hand in the air.

'Excuse me!  Umm, Monsieur!'

The waiter prowled back towards them.  Josh could hear the
Jaws
theme tune in his head.  He rolled his eyes at her.

Not again...

'Is everysing OK?' the waiter asked quietly.

'Oh yes,' Lucy told him, in her telephone voice.  'But do you think you could bring a couple of spare plates?'

The waiter's dark brow gathered up in a frown.

'It's just that...  well, to be honest...' she shrugged, lowering her voice.

Josh watched her batting her eyelashes; started getting pissed off again. 

'Oh, what the hell.  I'm so tired,' she sighed, sinking back into her seat.  She stared up at the waiter, thrumming her fingers on the table.  'You know, we've been travelling all through the night to get here,' she said, crinkling her brow.  'Look,
please
don't say anything, I'd probably lose my job...'

The waiter went on frowning at her.  Joshua joined him.

What's she up to now?

'I'm with a travel website,' she sighed, without so much as a flicker.  'I've come to do a review.'

It took a moment for the penny to drop.  The waiter blinked down at Josh anew.

'...Coca Cola, did you say?' he murmured.

Josh smiled up at the whitening cheeks.

'Yes please.'

'No problem, Monsieur,' he breathed. 

He suddenly stood bolt upright, heels clicking together. 

'
Absolutement!  No problem at all!'

Lucy waited until the hurried footsteps fell into silence.  She leant across the table, grabbing Joshua's hand.

'I don't think he's going to spit in your food now,' she whispered conspiratorially.

He blinked up at her.

'I can't believe you're such a good liar.'

Lucy's smile dropped.

'To him.  Never to you.  Anyone who pisses you off, pisses me off,' she told him, sipping her water with a shrug.  'I'm just more subtle about it, that's all. 

‘Besides, I'm a member of Trip Advisor.  I'm always leaving reviews.  You should see the one I left for you.'

He stared back at her, raising his eyebrows.

Josh frowned down at the five pairs of legs dancing across her plate; the drizzle of butter and herbs.

'Oh God,' he murmured, shaking his head.  'That just looks...
so wrong
.'

Lucy smiled down at them, tilting her head to one side.

'They look like men in tights,' she mused.

'...You're not really going to eat that, are you?'

'Of course,' Lucy nodded back at him.  'And you're going to try some too.' 

'...I am not!' he said, balking, gulping his cola.  He followed her nod to the kitchen hatch.  The waiter and chef stood there looking on, whispering; waiting expectantly.  In his periphery, he saw a pair of legs on the spare plate, sliding slowly towards him.

'You have got to be shitting me,' Joshua growled. 

He ignored her, picking up his knife and fork; staring down at the duck.  It wasn't cooked through.  He eyed it suspiciously, slicing off a tiny sliver.

'How is it?' Lucy asked, covering her mouth with her fingers. 

He noticed her nails: pillar box red.

Joshua's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he chewed.

'Good...' he murmured.  'Really good.'

He picked up a fork full; then another, and another.  He glanced across at Lucy's plate, balking at the little stack of bones.  Josh remembered himself.  He picked up slithers of duck with his knife and fork, putting them on his spare plate.  Lucy waved her hand in protest.

'That's enough.'

Thank God...

He didn't have very much left.

He reluctantly pushed the duck towards her, staring down at the frog's leg exchange.

'What does it taste like?' he asked, prodding it with his fork; biting his lip.

'Chicken,' Lucy told him, diving in.

Joshua scoffed.

'People always say that.  That's why I never order chicken.'

'Just try it,' Lucy coaxed. 

She pulled a face as she chewed. 

'Actually... don't.' 

She dabbed her mouth with her white linen napkin, crestfallen. 

'On second thoughts, I'd like them back please.'

He waved her hand away, staring down at them, picking up his knife and fork.  It really didn't look right.  He dissected a section from the white meat of the thigh, closing his eyes as he put it into his mouth, praying he wouldn't throw up. 

He started chewing.  His eyes burst open.

'It's nice...' he said in amazement.

'See?' Lucy grinned, pulling the duck back towards her, picking her fork up again.

'It's not like chicken at all,' Joshua told her, busy carving out more.

'No?' Lucy shrugged.

'No,' Josh told her.  'It's better.' 

Lucy smiled at him, sipping her water, watching him pick the bones clean.  He mopped up every splash of sauce.  He didn't even look up.

'You do realise what we've just done?' Josh said, wiping his mouth with the napkin, quirking an eyebrow at the leg bones on his plate. 

Lucy frowned.  Josh sighed theatrically. 

'Alas, poor
Froggy.  I knew him well.'

Lucy's laughter bubbled up.

'In fact,' Josh teased, leaning across the table and snatching her little fingers, 'I think you just consumed his entire family.'

'I wonder what he's doing right now?' Lucy mused.

'Who knows with Froggy,' Josh said quietly, smile fading, eyes flickering around the room.  'You don't want to go just yet, do you?  I think I'd like to stay for dessert.'

Lucy wandered out onto the street alone as Joshua settled the bill.  She needed the air - the frog's legs were fantastic, but they were already repeating.  She left Josh in the capable hands of their waiter, Jean-Luc.  The two men were on first name terms by the time the coffee came around.  Chatting away, first about football, then about work; then about skydiving. 

She saw the familiar spark of admiration in Jean-Luc's eyes as Joshua bashfully revealed his profession.  Their locked horns were long forgotten.  Jean-Luc was clearly in awe. 

He started probing Josh with a stream of questions.

'You teach people to jump out of planes?' gawked Jean-Luc.  'No-no-no-no, wait a minute,' he said, shaking his head.  'You mean to tell me you actually get paid for doing somesing you love?'

Joshua smiled up at him.  Jean-Luc raised his eyebrows.

'You're a lucky man, mon frère.'

Suddenly, it was as though Lucy wasn't even there.  She smirked to herself, sliding out of the leather seat, throwing her napkin down on the table.

I should have worked for the UN.  My work here is done.

An old guy with a neatly clipped grey beard sat at one of the round tables outside.  He was smoking a pipe - that vanilla tobacco she'd always loved.

'Bonjour,' he cooed, smiling up at her. 

'Bonjour,' she said politely, lowering her head and holding her breath. 

The aroma was cloying; too strong. 

Her eyes traced her blue suede shoes across the grey cobbles as she hurried past.  She saw a glimpse of black shiny leather; felt the impact against her chest; Lucy's heart lurched.  She fell backwards; felt the sense of dread that precedes falling flat on your arse.  His fingers dug into her arms, swiftly yanking her up.

'
Sh.... I'm so sorry!' she blurted.

She met his piercing dark eyes and gasped. 

'...
Froggy?'

She scanned his face.  No beard.  No dreadlocks.  His skin was white and smooth; dark hair cropped closely.  He wore pin-striped trousers and neatly pressed shirt.

'Sacrebleu!  J'ble-bla!'

He released her, stepping back, holding his palms up.  Lucy hesitated, then stepped forward, frowning.

'
Froggy?  Froggy!  It's me!'

It was him.  It had to be.  She'd know those eyes anywhere. 

Lucy heard a shop door jangle open and turned her head, watching the skinny blonde skip down the steps.  She wore kitten-heeled boots, tight black jeans, a beige satin blouse and a fedora hat. 

She looked like she'd fallen straight out of a fashion magazine, swinging the boutique bag inches over Lucy's head as she ran headlong into his arms.  Lucy stepped back.  She peered up at him sheepishly.  He stared back over the Frenchwoman's shoulder.

Fucking hell...  FROGGY?  What were you thinking?

It didn't look like him at all. 

Could she have been any more insulting - saying that to a Frenchman?  No wonder he was pissed off. 

'Sorry,' she muttered, quickly looking away as she saw his eyes close; the Frenchwoman's pink tongue push into his mouth. 

She stalked towards the shop window; anything to get away from them, any excuse to turn her back.