Alice-Miranda in Paris 7 (11 page)

‘Oh,’ the lad replied, nodding. ‘Cool.’

The professor and Miss Grimm exchanged grins. Figgy was a constant surprise. Who’d have thought the boy might consider an old church to be ‘cool’?

Sloane put her hand up and glanced down at her strappy sandals. ‘Are we walking there?’

‘Yes Sloane, we’ll be doing quite a bit of walking, at least to begin with,’ the headmistress replied. ‘I recommend sensible shoes for everyone.’

Sloane was standing near Miss Reedy and asked if she could dash back upstairs to her room to find her sandshoes. The teacher agreed and whispered that she should make it snappy.

The children set off with the teachers in what was becoming a familiar formation. Professor Winterbottom and Miss Grimm were leading the charge with Mr Grump halfway along the line, then Mr Trout and Mr Plumpton. Bringing up the rear was Mrs Winterbottom and Miss Reedy, who had garnered the attention of Mr Lipp. His simple tan trousers and white shirt were something of a surprise, although he finished the outfit off with a red polka-dotted bow tie and red braces, so still managed to stand out from the crowd.

The group crossed the road just along from the Pont de l’Archevêché, which led over to Notre Dame.

‘What’s on the bridge there?’ Millie called as they reached the intersection.

‘It looks like . . . padlocks, I think,’ Lucas answered.

‘Yes, they are,’ Miss Reedy nodded. ‘They’re love padlocks. Each one has the names of a couple in love and the story goes that once the padlocks are locked onto the bridge the two people named will be together forever.’

‘That’s a bit stupid,’ Sep piped up. ‘What if you break up?’

‘I think it’s a very romantic gesture, don’t you Miss Reedy?’ Mr Lipp raised his eyebrows at the teacher, whose cheeks looked as if they’d caught alight.

‘Me too,’ Jacinta agreed. ‘I know whose name I’d want beside mine.’

Millie and Sep giggled. Lucas looked ready to crawl under a rock.

‘Nonsense, Mr Lipp,’ Deidre Winterbottom chimed in. ‘It’s ridiculous. If you love someone and they love you back, you don’t need a padlock to prove it. I can’t imagine my Wallace ever buying into rubbish like that.’

Mr Lipp looked stung and was suddenly rather quiet. Jacinta was too.

Millie gave her friend a sympathetic smile and changed the subject. ‘Hey, that must be our boat.’

Down below the bridge, several vessels were moored along the edge of the river. Two looked to be restaurants but another had a glass roof, almost like a floating gazebo, and bore the name of a famous French actress, Catherine Deneuve. Miss Grimm and Professor Winterbottom led the group down a steep set of stairs onto the lower concourse. A long line of tourists were already there waiting to embark. The children were directed to the front of the craft, much to the obvious displeasure of several people in the queue. A short man with a shaggy beard snorted and waved his arms about.

‘We’ve been here for ages,’ he grouched to his wife, who smiled nervously at the children and told her husband through gritted teeth to stop making a fuss.

Despite the man’s protests, it didn’t take long to load the boat. With all of the passengers in their seats, it pulled away from the pier and began its slow journey down the river. A commentary blared from the loudspeakers alternating between French and English, outlining information about the grand buildings along the route and then directing passengers to listen to additional information on the personal handsets built into each seat. Alice-Miranda and Millie were sitting in the front row with Jacinta and Sloane. Sep and Lucas were there too. As the boat approached the Pont Neuf, Alice-Miranda glanced up to study the beautiful bridge. A woman was racing along the footpath, hidden behind an enormous pair of sunglasses. Her long black hair was flying.

Millie had been looking at the shoreline and listening to the commentary about the city when she turned to say something to Alice-Miranda.

‘What are you staring at?’ Millie glanced up at the bridge.

‘Nothing.’

‘Hey, isn’t that –’ Millie began.

Alice-Miranda cut her off. ‘No, it’s not.’

‘Not what?’ Jacinta turned to see what the girls were talking about.

Alice-Miranda gave Millie a pointed stare and shook her head ever so slightly.

‘It’s not the Pont Royal, it’s the Pont Neuf,’ Alice-Miranda replied.

‘Seriously? Who cares?’ Jacinta frowned. ‘It’s a bridge. There are loads of them.’

By this time the woman had disappeared and Jacinta was staring at the buildings to the left of the river.

Millie tugged sharply on Alice-Miranda’s sleeve. ‘I need to go to the toilet.’

Alice-Miranda said ‘me too’ and the pair of them walked off to another part of the vessel.

‘That was Jacinta’s mother,’ Millie whispered urgently.

‘Yes, I know it was,’ Alice-Miranda nodded.

‘Thanks for stopping me from saying anything.’ Millie sighed. ‘Why wouldn’t she have told Jacinta that she’d be here this week? They’ve been getting on so much better. Jacinta will be so mad when she finds out.’

‘She doesn’t have to find out,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘I mean, there are thousands of people here this week, in addition to the millions of Parisians who live here. What are the chances that we’ll see her again?’

‘I hope we don’t, for Jacinta’s sake,’ said Millie.

The two girls made their way back to their seats.

‘You took your time,’ Jacinta grumbled. ‘You’ve missed lots of things.’

‘Never mind,’ said Alice-Miranda as she sat down beside Jacinta. ‘You can tell us all about it instead.’

Lucas leaned around and looked at his cousin. ‘There was this huge medieval palace where they held all the prisoners before they were taken to the guillotine. Imagine that.’ He rubbed his neck.

Lucas’s face was close to Jacinta’s. Her eyes grew rounder and she took a deep breath.

Lucas rolled his eyes. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Nothing, nothing at all,’ Jacinta gulped.

The rest of the children giggled.

Lucas’s face turned bright red.

The students had arrived at the basilica by bus and were allotted forty-five minutes to explore the area. They were split into four groups, with Miss Grimm and Mr Grump taking one, Professor Winterbottom and Mr Lipp another, Mr Trout and Mr Plumpton the third and finally Miss Reedy and Mrs Winterbottom looking after Alice-Miranda, Millie, Sloane, Jacinta and Sep. Lucas had been targeted by Professor Winterbottom, who hoped the young lad might be a steadying influence on Figgy and Rufus, who had become a little rowdy by the end of the boat cruise. He wondered if it was something to do with the fizzy drinks Mr Lipp had bought for the children. Neither the professor nor Miss Grimm had been remotely impressed when Mr Lipp returned from an expedition to purchase water and juice. Instead he carried three trays of fizzy cola and was boasting that he’d saved at least ten euros.

‘That’s an amazing view,’ Millie said. She snapped a picture of her group standing at the lookout below the steps that led to the church.

‘It’s quite flat for a city, isn’t it?’ Jacinta said.

‘Except this bit,’ said Sloane, glancing up at the white edifice atop the hill behind her.

‘Mmm, there aren’t many skyscrapers when you look out there,’ Alice-Miranda agreed. ‘It’s certainly different from New York. The only places you’d get a view like this are the top of the Empire State Building or the Rockefeller Center. On street level you feel a bit like an ant most of the time.’

‘I want to go to New York,’ Sloane whined. ‘It sounds amazing.’

‘It is,’ Alice-Miranda agreed. ‘I wish you could all meet Lucinda and Ava and Quincy. They’re so much fun. Come to think of it, Lucinda wrote to me and said that her father is finally going to bring her and her mother and brothers to Paris. Lucinda and her mother have always wanted to visit but Mr Finkelstein hasn’t been a very keen traveller up to now, even in New York.’

‘That sounds a bit strange,’ Sloane replied. ‘Does he have arachnophobia or something?’

Millie giggled and rolled her eyes. ‘I think you mean agoraphobia, Sloane, otherwise he’s afraid of spiders.’

‘Whatever!’ Sloane retorted. ‘I’m not a dictionary, you know.’

‘No, you’re not, but I might buy you one,’ Millie teased.

‘Please don’t fight,’ Alice-Miranda begged her friends. ‘Anyway, I don’t think Mr Finkelstein has agoraphobia. He’s just very protective.’

‘It would be funny if she was here in Paris now,’ Sloane said.

Alice-Miranda wondered. It would be a lovely coincidence, but probably not likely. Lucinda hadn’t mentioned any dates in her letter.

‘Come along, children, we’d better get inside and have a look before our time’s up,’ called Mrs Winterbottom. She directed the group up the stairs, where Millie insisted they all pose for several more photographs.

As they entered the church, Alice-Miranda noticed Professor Winterbottom standing in one corner. Nearby was a display of candles for sale, some large but mostly little tea lights. The professor’s face was red and he looked as if he was doing his very best not to explode.

Millie had seen him too. She pulled at Alice-Miranda’s sleeve. ‘What’s going on over there?’

‘I’m not sure, but it doesn’t look good,’ said Alice-Miranda.

The girls were reading a plaque about one of the saints when the professor could no longer control his rage. He began to whisper hoarsely. Several of the people sitting in the pews looked up from their prayers, wondering at the source of the noise.

‘Figworth, Pemberley, I have a good mind to send you both home on the next flight,’ the professor hissed through gritted teeth. ‘What were you two thinking?’ Unfortunately his plan to have Lucas exert a good influence on the two lads hadn’t worked. The professor had been enjoying Lucas’s company so much as they walked around appreciating the architecture that he forgot his other charges. But Mr Lipp should have been watching them too.

The professor cast his eyes towards a section of candles where one lonely flame flickered.

Rufus hung his head. ‘We didn’t know what they were for, sir.’

‘And I thought it was dangerous to have so many naked flames in the building,’ Figgy added. ‘I mean, some lady almost caught on fire when she leaned in to light another one. We thought we were being helpful.’

The two boys didn’t dare look at each other.

‘That is not true at all,’ said the professor furiously. ‘I saw you with my own eyes. You were having a competition to see who could blow out the most candles in one breath.’ The boys stifled smiles. ‘Do not move. I’m going to find Mr Lipp right now. Perhaps he can shed some more light on the situation.’

Figgy and Rufus had to cover their mouths – they couldn’t believe the professor had said ‘shed some light’.

The professor charged off to locate Mr Lipp, who had bumped into Miss Reedy and was now walking with her.

The professor tapped the Drama teacher sharply on the shoulder. ‘Mr Lipp, you were supposed to be keeping an eye on the boys in our group, weren’t you?’ he hissed.

Mr Lipp spun around. ‘Ah, yes, of course professor. Is there a problem?’

‘I’ll say there is.’ He pointed at Figgy and Rufus. ‘Those two have been blowing out the candles,’ the professor explained as they reached the boys, who were hanging their heads and trying hard not to laugh.

Mr Lipp gulped. He felt as if he was about to be in as much trouble as Figworth and Pemberley. He glared at the two boys.

‘It says quite clearly that the candles are lit for prayers. And now they’ve extinguished at least twenty of them. How much pocket money do you have on you?’ the professor demanded.

‘Well, I’m not sure.’ Mr Lipp reached into his pocket to retrieve his wallet.

‘Not you, you twit.’ The professor glared at Mr Lipp, who hastily put his money away. He turned to the boys. ‘Those candles cost two euros each. You are going to make donations of twenty euros
each
for your ridiculous behaviour.’

The boys stopped giggling and started to feel very sorry for themselves. Figgy hadn’t bought his mother a present yet and he’d been looking forward to getting one of those rare action figures from the shop over in St Germain near their hotel. They were expensive too.

‘All right, stand there while I re-light the candles. And if you move, I’ll be calling your parents.’ The professor was almost foaming at the mouth as he took a long taper and proceeded to ignite one candle after another.

An old woman dressed in black from top to toe and with a scarf around her head nodded at the professor with sad eyes. Who knew how many people he was praying for? Clearly his life was heavily burdened, she thought to herself.

Mr Lipp stood next to the boys, wondering if he should assist the professor or just stay well out of the way.

Fifteen minutes later, with the candle situation rectified, the children made their way back to the bus. Figgy and Rufus were in a far more subdued mood than when they had arrived.

‘Stupid white church on a hill,’ Figgy mumbled as he hopped on the bus. Although he’d spotted the funicular and rather fancied a ride in it down the hill, he’d thought better of asking.

Miss Grimm and Professor Winterbottom decided that there was time for the children to have a return visit to the park and a rematch of their basketball game, except for Figgy and Rufus. The professor had another task in mind for them. There were twenty pairs of school shoes, which the children would be wearing with their school uniforms for their performances, that could do with a polish. Under Mr Lipp’s supervision, Figgy and Rufus were the perfect candidates to get it done.