Read Online Poppy Does Paris (Girls On Tour 1) (Girls On Tour Book) by Nicola Doherty - Free Book Online Page B

chips?’ I ask, mentally adjusting to this new picture of cordon-bleu Charlie.
    ‘Of course. We even have a deep-fat fryer.’
    ‘I don’t think I could trust myself with a deep-fat fryer,’ I admit.
    ‘I know. When I first got it, everything we ate was crispy brown for weeks. What about you, do you like cooking?’
    ‘I love it. Sometimes I’m a bit lazy when it’s just me, but I love having people around. Especially for brunches. I do a big frittata with feta and spring onions, and make a batch of mimosas. You should come some time,’ I add, impulsively.
    ‘I would love to,’ he says, looking pleased. ‘This is excellent, by the way. Would you like to try some?’
    I’m relieved that he doesn’t try to feed me, but puts a bit on my plate. ‘Wow. Yum. So where did you learn to cook?’
    ‘Well, my dad was a cook.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘Wormwood Scrubs.’
    ‘What, the prison?’
    ‘Yep.’ He takes a sip of wine. ‘I used to cook at home with him. And then when I left school, I got work in a restaurant kitchen in Richmond. But I wasn’t cut out for kitchen life so I decided to escape it for something clean and dry. So I applied to college and did my English degree . . . and here I am.’
    Good lord. So Charlie, who I always took to be a middle-class boy who was putting on a mockney accent, was basically raised in a prison. I shake my head.
    ‘I wish Jonathan had been listening to you yesterday, not me. He’d have found a lot more to put in his notebook.’
    ‘Well,’ he says, ‘you’re a lot prettier than me.’
    I don’t know what to say to that, so I change the subject. ‘So what’s the story with you and Constance?’ I say coyly. ‘You seemed to take quite a shine to her.’
    ‘What – you mean romantically?’ He looks blank. ‘No. She’s a nice girl, and she
does
have a scooter, but . . . I suppose I like a woman with a bit more fire in her belly.’ He grins at me, and my stomach does a backflip. I’m a little nervous for some reason; I think we need another subject change.
    ‘So,’ I say, ‘don’t you think it’s unfair that Katie Chipshop’s books are going to sell billions of copies when my novel got turned down?’
    ‘Not really. I think if your novel was good enough it would have spoken to more people there. And Katie –’ he reaches out and pulls a bit of wax off the candle. ‘She may not have had much education but she’s had lots of interesting experiences. I think it’s good that she’s able to tell her story, and that people who wouldn’t read otherwise might be tempted to read because they know her.’
    I hadn’t thought of it that way before and I have to admit he makes a good point. I like the way he’s thinking about it. And I like his blue eyes and the stubble on his chin. In fact, there’s no point in denying it any more: I like him. I like Charlie. And it’s not just because he’s so handsome; it’s because he’s so much brighter, and more interesting, than I’d realised.
    ‘Why did you diss the coffee at my pet sandwich bar?’ I ask him suddenly. ‘I was trying to support them, by bringing in their cakes.’
    ‘Oh. Sorry about that. I shouldn’t have kicked them in the nuts while they were down. But seriously, you have to admit their coffee is rank.’
    ‘Hmph.’ It is true their coffee isn’t great. It’s sort of thin and watery. ‘Well, maybe. But you have to admit their
pasteis de nata
are sublime.’
    ‘The cakes were delicious,’ he says solemnly. ‘Best I’ve ever had. I’ll write to
The Times
about them. Get Giles Coren to do a review.’
    ‘Don’t take the piss.’
    Charlie leans forward. ‘Poppy,’ he says softly, ‘I really am sorry I dissed the café. The cakes really were delicious.’
    I look down and see that his hand is lying very close to mine on the table. He moves it closer, until our fingers are touching. I look up to find him still looking right at me.
    ‘
Désirez-vous un dessert ou un café?
’