‘This is us,’ I say.
‘We’re getting off at Avignon?’ Alice asks.
‘Have you been before?’
She shakes her head. ‘And are we staying the night?’
I laugh. ‘I wasn’t actually going to ask you to spend your entire birthday on a train. We’re here for a couple of nights.’
‘But what about work?’
‘Natalie’s got it all sorted with Eve,’ I explain. ‘Apparently Eve was more than happy to take charge for the weekend and she said it was about time you took some time off, too.’
‘So you’ve been in cahoots with Natalie and Eve?’
‘Just wanted to plan something special for you.’
Alice sits back in her seat, a smile curling at her lips. ‘You incorrigible romantic,’ she says. ‘A surprise birthday trip to France?’
‘Are you happy?’
‘Very. I can’t believe you’ve planned all of this, Zach. I’m so impressed. I had no idea and Natalie is usually rubbish at keeping secrets, too,’ she laughs.
Alice has been racing around our hotel room since we checked in, sampling all the little products in the bathroom, rifling through the minibar and throwing herself onto the bed to “check the bounce”. It’s like going on holiday with a puppy on crack.
I lean against the bathroom door, watching her unzip her suitcase to find out what Natalie packed for her. On the top of her clothes is a tissue paper parcel wrapped in ribbon with a little envelope attached and she flashes me a look as she goes to open it.
‘That has nothing to do with me,’ I say.
‘The card says, “YOU’RE WELCOME”,’ Alice tells me, looking suspicious. Then she opens the parcel and pulls out something black, lacy and extremely sexy-looking.
‘Oh my.’
‘Are you sure this has nothing to do with you?’ She raises her eyebrows and holds it against herself.
‘Promise. It looks like a … sexy swimming costume?’
‘It’s a body,’ Alice grins, folding it gently into a drawer. ‘Natalie must have packed it. She’s been taking an OTT interest in my underwear recently.’
I clear my throat, unsure what to say.
‘Oh look, a room service menu!’ Alice says, sitting at a little desk and turning it over in her hands.
‘Given that I’ve made you spend your entire thirtieth birthday on a train, maybe room service and some more champagne could be the perfect end to the day.’
‘You read my mind. Burgers and fries? But maybe …’ She pauses, looking me straight in the eye. ‘A shower together first?’
I follow her into the bathroom like a shot.
‘Nowthisis how you should spend you birthday,’ she says later, as we stand by the window in the hotel’s towelling robes, our arms wrapped around each other as we look out over the city.
The next morning, after an indulgent breakfast in bed which feels like a scene from the romantic comedies I’m definitely not into, we finally leave the hotel and make our way to the Palais des Papes.
‘It dates back to the fourteenth century and was once the residency of the popes, apparently,’ I say, pulling out facts from my guide book. ‘It’s a huge Gothic building.’
‘I think this might be it,’ Alice says, turning a narrow corner which opens out into a vast square, the enormous palace looming large in the background.
‘I think you might be right.’
