Read Online The Train to Paris by Sebastian Hampson - Free Book Online

‘Is there much more to it than that?’
    Ã‰lodie’s eyes opened wider than usual. I could see the slight blemish in her mascara. I realised that I was playing to her expectations. It was as though I were a circus act, giving her the entertainment that she craved.
    â€˜Now that is completely limp,’ she said. ‘Did you steal it from a clergyman?’
    â€˜All right, I have to concede that I don’t have my own definition of love. That wasn’t my question, though.’
    â€˜You have never been in love, Lawrence, so you wouldn’t know. Shall we say that I love him by my own definition of the word? He is a large part of my world. One day you will understand what I mean by that. Sadly it isn’t something that can be explained easily.’
    â€˜And yet you’re perfectly happy to be unfaithful.’
    She snorted, rather an unpleasant noise, and I hoped never to hear it again.
    â€˜Faith? I have never come across a sillier idea. If I devoted the whole of my life to one person, then wouldn’t you think that rather a dull life?’
    â€˜I suppose so.’
    â€˜No, Lawrence, you don’t suppose anything. Either yes or no. Which is it?’
    Her eyes flitted around while she spoke. She never lingered. I must have given much more away with my eyes. They were always open and waiting to be caught. I had not thought about it before. It was intimidating to sit across from her, now that our faces were on the same level.
    â€˜I don’t know,’ I said at last. ‘I can imagine fidelity working for most people.’
    â€˜But not me.’
    â€˜How can you know if you’ve never tried?’
    â€˜Oh, I have tried.’ She said this in a defensive way, as though she had been expecting the question. She previewed everything somehow, like a clairvoyant. ‘Your failures in adulthood might be easy to guess, but rest assured that mine aren’t.’
    â€˜That’s very reassuring.’
    I had been about to say something else, but I held back.
    â€˜We must get some dinner,’ she said. ‘Or are you feeling the effects of that revolting bouillabaisse?’
    â€˜Not really.’ This was a lie, and she must have seen it. ‘You don’t like to stay in one place for long, do you?’
    â€˜Not if I can help it. We miss out on an awful lot if we stay in one place. Who knows what might be going on elsewhere?’
    She stood up, and I needed no persuasion to abandon my martini. She drew into the light beneath a chandelier, and I had to marvel at how smooth her skin was from this particular angle. It took on an even more lustrous gold.
    â€˜You look beautiful, by the way,’ I said. She smiled at me in her usual mischievous way. As we walked past the barman’s field of vision, I tried to avoid him.

7
    The decor in the hotel’s restaurant was in keeping with everything else. I was becoming accustomed to the excess. There were three layers of linen on each table. I took issue with the china plates, which were decorated with violent pink roses. The waiter had to ask twice before I gave him my coat.
    We sat at an angle next to each other, close to touching. Élodie ordered a bottle of Bordeaux that was not even the most expensive on the menu, and I told her so once the waiter had left.
    â€˜The most expensive wine is not usually the best,’ she said. ‘It depends on what you want out of the wine. The waiter would disagree. That is another point, in fact. The waiter does not always know best. I should start writing all this down for you.’
    â€˜I’m sure I can remember,’ I said dryly.
    She hit me with her napkin in a way that I never could have without somebody noticing.
    â€˜This is all useful. One day you might impress a girl with it.’
    I had to wonder what sort of a girl would be impressed by any of this. Did she mean Sophie? The dining room was impressive, but only in the way that Albert