Paris Crush (13 page)

I wonder if the stars can really guide our fates.

Oh, darling, don’t be silly.
Jessica Jupiter sounds in my head.
A few coincidences, that’s all. Our fate is not in our stars, you silly goose. We control our own
destiny.

I guess she’s right. After all, it was me who steered Treacle and Jeff together and helped Savannah realize Marcus was the only boy in the world for her. Stars didn’t guide them. I
did.

I think of David and Barbara. Perhaps this is one love match too many. Savannah and Treacle were easy. They’re my friends. I know them inside out. But Barbara and David live in another
world – a strange planet inhabited only by Year Tens. Perhaps I shouldn’t be meddling with things I don’t understand.

‘It’s the Milky Way.’

Sam’s voice takes me by surprise. I spin round and see him standing behind me. How long has he been there?

‘It’s beautiful.’ I turn back to the painting and let it draw me in again.

Sam moves beside me. But he doesn’t speak. No non-stop jabber like Rupert. He stands and stares into the Milky Way. The silence of the gallery enfolds us, so it’s like we’re
bubble-wrapped. Calm and happy to just be there, gazing at a painting in the Louvre.

I don’t know how many minutes pass before I hear Sam’s trainers scuff the floor beside me.

‘Gemma,’ he says.

I look at him. ‘What?’

‘There’s something I want to ask you.’ His eyes shine brighter than the stars in the painting.

‘Gemma!’ Treacle’s whoop splits the air, and the paintings seem to rattle on their hooks. I jump, my heart pounding. Savannah and Treacle are racing towards us, their footsteps
echoing. Sally, Ryan, Marcus and Jeff are on their heels. It’s like a wave crashing onto an empty beach. I brace myself for the impact, as Treacle grabs my hands and swings me round.

‘Isn’t it magic?’ She looks up at the painted ceiling, her face lit by wonder. I smile and nod.

Savannah’s hanging off Marcus. ‘I have seen so many beautiful women today – in paintings and sculptures and walking round the galleries! I’m going to have to totally
redesign my whole wardrobe when I get home. Beauty is SO not about make-up and bling.’ She smiles, suddenly serene. ‘I’m going to work on my inner beauty,’ she announces
dramatically. ‘It will bring me a glow more radiant than Max Factor ever could.’

Marcus throws her a sugary look. ‘I’d better buy some shades.’

Savannah wrinkles her nose and returns the sugar. ‘Aw, Marcus.’ She kisses his cheek. ‘You’re such a sweetie.’

Sam stares at his shoes. He’s probably embarrassed by Year Nine soppiness. I’m not. I glance back at the Milky Way. How could I think of giving up on Barbara and David? Look how
happy Savannah and Treacle are.

Get ready, Jessica,
I warn my alter ego.
We’ve got some serious work to do.
I’m going to get David and Barbara to fall in love in Paris if it’s the last thing I
do.

The sky behind the Eiffel Tower is starting to darken as Madame Papillon herds us along the concourse below. Everyone’s here – Year Tens and Year Nines mingling as
they head for the tower. My feet ache after an afternoon in the Louvre, but my heart is soaring. I can still hardly believe I’m here. As I hurry along beside Savannah and Treacle, I start
rewriting my Paris article in my head.

Madame Papillon’s voice chimes into my thoughts. ‘Hurry up! We don’t want to miss the sunset.’

Mr Chapman and Miss Davis trail behind. They’re gazing more at each other than at the massive pile of wrought iron looming ahead of us.

Savannah glances back at them. ‘I wonder where
they
had lunch?’ she says meaningfully.

Treacle hides a giggle behind her hand. ‘You don’t suppose they’re dating?’

Ryan overhears. ‘Ew!’ he groans. ‘Teachers dating. That’s revolting.’

I notice that Miss Davis is wearing her bun looser; stray strands of hair have escaped and frame her face. Mr Chapman doesn’t take his eyes off her as they chat. He doesn’t even
notice Ryan making kissing noises on the back of his hand.

‘Shut up, Ryan!’ Sal thumps him on the arm. ‘It’s sweet.’

I’m pleased to see Paris is still working its charm. If it can seduce a geography teacher, it must be weaving a pretty powerful spell.

Madame Papillon stops beneath an arching leg of the tower and we cluster round her. ‘We’re going to the top!’ She points up with a flourish. ‘You can take the stairs or
the lift.’

I clap my hands with excitement. The Paris sky is purpling with dusk. The city is lighting up and, as my heart flutters, the tower suddenly flickers into a thousand lights. ‘It’s
beautiful.’ If David and Barbara gaze across Paris from the top, they are bound to fall in love.

It’s absolutely inevitable.

‘Miss.’ Barbara raises a trembling hand. ‘I’m scared of heights.’

I freeze.
Scared of heights? No! How’s David meant to melt with love at the top if Barbara’s dissolved with terror at the bottom?

Madame Papillon doesn’t hear her. She’s heading for the stairs, a gaggle of Year Tens and Nines at her heels.

‘Come on, Gem!’ Treacle flaps at me, as Jeff drags her after the crowd. Savannah and Marcus have already disappeared into the seething mass of anoraks and trainers.

I yell back, ‘I’ll see you at the top!’ I can’t abandon Barbara. Somehow I have to get her up the Eiffel Tower.

Barbara’s staring up, eyes wide. Cindy’s squeezing her arm. ‘You’ll be fine, Barbie.’

‘I won’t be fine,’ Barbara gasps. ‘I’ll die!’

Sam loiters behind them, staying near Cindy. David’s consulting his guidebook, as usual. Rupert’s hanging around like a bad smell while Will paces the tarmac, one eye on Barbara and
Cindy. Why doesn’t he disappear after the others? Maybe he’s hoping to turn Barbara’s fear of heights into an in-depth article on phobias.

David starts to head towards the lift.

‘No!’

Cindy and Sam turn as I squawk at David.

‘You can’t go!’ I yelp. ‘Barbara needs our support.’ I can’t let him miss out on his chance at true love.

He frowns at me. ‘She needs a therapist.’

‘But we can help! If we all think positive thoughts.’ I look round desperately. ‘It’ll help Barbara feel more . . .’ A blush is rising in my cheeks. ‘. . .
More
positive.
’

‘Really?’ David looks unconvinced.

Barbara gives an anxious squeak. ‘I don’t know if I can.’ She stares helplessly up at the top of the tower.

‘Of course you can.’ Rupert puts his arm round her shoulders and gives her a squeeze. ‘Just think of it as
higher
education.’

David snorts impatiently. ‘I’m going with the others.’

‘No!’ I grab his arm and he looks at me like I’m a freak.

‘We
really
can help,’ I blurt. ‘I know what it’s like to have a phobia.’ This is a lie. I have no idea what a phobia feels like. Spiders scare me, but
that’s normal. ‘And it’s only the kindness and support of friends that got me over it. If we can help Barbara face her fear,’ I’m still hanging onto David, ‘it
will totally change her life. Just think . . .’ I’m babbling now, ‘. . . she’ll be able to go to the top of a shopping centre and fly in balloons and hang-glide.’

Will lifts an eyebrow. ‘Is that a big ambition of yours, Babs?’

Barbara shakes her head frantically. ‘No!’

I change strategy. ‘My phobia was terrible. But with Treacle and Savannah sending me positive thoughts and staying with me through the really dark times, I managed to face it and now I
feel fine.’

Sam looks curious. ‘What was your phobia, Gem?’

‘What was my phobia?’ I echo limply. ‘It was . . . er . . .’ I gaze round wildly and spot Cindy’s Burberry wool knee-highs. ‘Socks,’ I say suddenly,
surprising myself.
Socks? Who’s scared of socks?

‘Socks.’ Will repeats the word flatly.

‘Yes.’ I fix Barbara with an earnest stare. ‘Seriously, I could not wear them. I could hardly look at them. They used to totally freak me out. But Savannah and Treacle helped
me decide that I had to overcome my fear, so I started out just carrying one round in my pocket and then eventually I learnt to wear one really short ankle sock and then I gradually worked my way
up to over-the-knee socks.’

‘Wow.’ Will looks at me blankly. ‘That must have been an amazing achievement.’

‘Of course it was!’ Rupert leaps to my defence. ‘It’s great.’ He sounds genuinely impressed. ‘What started your phobia?’

‘She was probably savaged by a sock puppet as a child,’ Will quips.

‘Who knows?’ I’m focusing on Barbara. ‘The important thing is I overcame it.’ I take her arm and start leading her towards the lift doors at the bottom of the
tower. They’re closed and there’s a short queue outside. I tag onto the end of it. ‘You’ll be fine.’ I glance at Cindy. ‘Won’t she, Cindy?’

Cindy looks worried. ‘She’s had this phobia for a long time.’

‘Then this is a fantastic opportunity to overcome it,’ I gush. ‘We’ll support you, won’t we?’ I glance over my shoulder, relieved to see David following with
Sam, Rupert and Will. If David sees Barbara beating her phobia, he’s bound to be impressed. In fact, he’ll probably be so impressed he’ll fall in love.

We’re swept into the lift along with a crowd and the doors close. Barbara’s eyes close with them.

‘We’re not so far up,’ Cindy reassures her friend.

The lift follows the sloping leg of the tower, more like a steep train ride than an elevator. Iron struts block our view and Barbara’s taking deep breaths, and squeezing Cindy’s
hand.

‘How is she?’ Sam asks Cindy.

Barbara doesn’t open her eyes, but answers for herself. ‘Still alive.’ Her voice is so small I can hardly hear it over the hubbub of tourists.

‘
Le deuxième étage
.’ A voice sounds from a loudspeaker, as the lift levels with the second floor. The door opens.

‘We have to get out here,’ Will tells us, as people stream out around us. ‘A smaller lift takes us the rest of the way.’

Barbara stiffens. ‘A
smaller
lift?’ She follows Cindy like a zombie as we head for the next lift.

‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ Sam whispers to me.

‘Yes.’ I glance at David. He’s watching Barbara with interest. Like a scientist observing a rat.

Come on, Barbara!
I silently send her waves of courage. If I’m going to change his look from vivisectionist to lover, she has to conquer her phobia.

Sam frowns. ‘She really doesn’t have to do this.’ He puts his hand on her arm. ‘You’ve done two storeys,’ he tells her. ‘That’s a great
achievement. You could wait here if you want.’

Barbara gives her head a fierce little shake. ‘No,’ she mutters through gritted teeth. She half opens her eyes. ‘I’m going to do this.’ The lift door opens in front
of us. ‘If Gemma can overcome her fear of socks then I can do this.’

There’s room in the lift for the seven of us. Fortunately, no one else tries to cram in. The walls are made of glass. Beyond the iron struts, I can see Paris.

Barbara stares through the wall, trembling, as the door closes. With a lurch, we move upward.

‘There’s never been a fatal lift accident in the Eiffel Tower,’ Rupert says loudly.

‘Not yet,’ Will mutters.

‘Shut it, Will,’ Sam orders, as Barbara flinches.

Nothing’s going to shut Rupert up though. ‘Don’t worry, Barbara. There are about thirty deaths in lifts a year. But it’s mainly people getting crushed or decapitated
while they’re getting in or out.’ He stares through the glass wall. ‘Now you’re inside, you’re probably safe. It’s not like the chain’s going to snap
suddenly. I doubt if we’ll plummet to our deaths. That hardly ever happens. In fact, the only time that happened—’

I’m about to kick him when Sam cuts in. ‘Thanks, Rupert, but you might want to check out the view.’

I sigh with relief as Rupert takes the hint and stares out at the Paris rooftops, which are now far below us.

Barbara’s fast-breathing. She’s chalk-white, her eyes screaming terror.

Cindy soothes her, stroking her back. ‘Nothing bad’s going to happen.’

David huffs. ‘
Of course
nothing bad’s going to happen.’ He’s looking irritated. ‘Can’t we just enjoy the ride?’

‘Can we get out yet?’ Barbara squints through a half-opened eye. ‘Or perhaps we can go back down now?’

‘We’ll soon be at the top, then we can go straight down again,’ Cindy promises.

Barbara looks at me pleadingly. ‘Was it like this with you and socks?’

Socks?
It takes a millisecond to catch up.
My sock phobia.
‘Totally,’ I lie. ‘Just the thought of them clinging to my legs was enough to make me break out in a
sweat.’

Will leans his forehead against a glass wall, watching the ironwork glide past. ‘Perhaps you were wearing them too thick.’

‘You’re wearing a bit thin,’ Sam snaps at him. He turns to me. ‘Sock phobia?’ His blue eyes flash. ‘
Really?
’