‘We’re going to get a taxi,’ I said firmly, seeing Harriet wince as she stood up.
Anna drew breath to say something about how they hadn’t had a taxi last time and it wasn’t far, but I gave her a meaningful look and happily she didn’t.
We settled our bill, the taxi arrived and we made our way outside into the warm afternoon.
‘I’m quite sad to be leaving Hotel Gloria,’ I said, looking back up at the attractive façade and the colourful window boxes while the driver loaded our cases into the boot of his car. ‘It was a great choice, Anna.’
‘More luck than judgement I think,’ Harriet murmured. ‘It wasn’t nearly this nice years ago.’
‘But it is now, and when anyone asks us if we know anywhere to stay in Nice, we can tell them all about it,’ I said. ‘And then we can appear glamorous and well-travelled.’
‘Such positivity,’ Anna said with approval, sending Harriet a hard look. ‘And yes we can.’
We got into the taxi, Harriet in the front because there was more leg room for her sore knee. The driver grumbled under his breath all the way, negotiated the narrow alleyway, avoiding all the pavement tables and chairs, the many pedestrians and a couple of scraggy-looking dogs sleeping on some doorsteps.
Ten minutes later we were getting out again and looking up at the white walls and blue window shutters of Hôtel de Mer Bleue.
Anna paid the taxi driver as she said she felt guilty at having inflicted too much on her friend and admitted at last that perhaps the mess up with our booking might have been her fault after all, and we went in.
I gathered all my French knowledge and went to throw myself on the mercy of the hotel receptionist, who was a tall, thin man in a shiny suit with a name badge identifying him as Arturo.
Yes, we were too early, but was there any way we could leave our bags with him, and perhaps sit and have a drink while we waited for our room to be ready? Or was there any possibility it might be ready early? Which would be even better. Formidable.Merveilleux.
I gathered up some of my best French pleading to try and convince him.
‘Nous vous serions éternellement reconnaissants. Nous vous aimerions pour toujours.’
Arturo flinched a bit at the thought that we would be eternally grateful and we would love him forever. So I explained about our predicament, a friend with a painful knee. What were the other words I needed?Opération du genou, knee surgery, which was extremely painful –extrêmement douloureux.
I gave Harriet a meaningful nod and she staggered a little and looked up at Arturo in the same way that an abandoned puppy might have viewed a new dog bed.
‘And she isâgée et fragile– elderly and very frail,’ I added for good measure.
Harriet’s head jerked round at this point and she looked at me with outrage but then remembered she was hoping to play the sympathy card and returned to her pitiful look. I even thought her lower lip was trembling.
‘Imaginez que c’était votre mère. What if this was your mother?’
Arturo gave a sigh and then, able to get a word in edgeways, at last said, in an accent that spoke of New Orleans, not Orleans, France, ‘Gee, ladies, I think my mother is in Atlantic City with her girlfriends feeding the slot machines, but I take your point.’
Anna snorted with laughter at this point but managed to convert it to a tragic sob.
‘Sapristi– good grief, I’ll see what I can do,’ Arturo said wearily, and he did some efficient-sounding typing on his computer, and a lot of fidgeting with a giant stapler, while Harriet sneaked a handful of mints from the glass bowl on the desk in front of him.
‘My blood sugar is very low,’ she said in a quavery voice. ‘I wouldn’t want to faint and cause you any trouble.’
‘Yes,’ Arturo said rather knowingly, the corner of his mouth twitching, ‘y’all do sound like my mother.’
‘You’re not from round here, are you?’ Anna said, trying a bit of eyelash fluttering, which under the circumstances was both inappropriate and unnecessary.
‘Gonzales, Louisiana, ma’am,’ Arturo replied.
Anna beamed. ‘Oh, how wonderful! Like Speedy. I used to love him. And we are taking part in the karaoke evening later. So, make sure you vote for us.’
Arturo edged back a little and I nudged Anna out of the way.
A few minutes later Arturo pinged the bell on the counter with the flat of his hand, and a bell boy who was probably older than any of us appeared, loaded our cases onto a trolley and trundled our bags off towards the lift.
Meekly we followed.
