‘Actually, there is one more terrible thing.’
Robert stopped in his tracks and looked at her.
Shannon stuck out her bottom lip. ‘I’m really afraid that I might have gone off coffee.’
Chapter Forty
Kate
The Eiffel Tower could be seen wherever you were in Paris. It was intriguing how something so modern and stark could also be so beautiful. A kind of architectural Kate Moss. Kate had a picture of it in her hallway at home, which had been taken on their honeymoon. Hidden in the foreground of the picture, which Luke had taken from a distance, was Kate sitting on the grass. If you didn’t know she was there, you could easily miss her.
Due to being terrified of heights, Kate had never been to the top of the Eiffel Tower; not even halfway up. When she’d made the plan, she’d considered whether to meet Luke at the top, like in Sleepless in Seattle with the top of the Empire State Building. Conjured visions of her clinging to the sides like Spiderman with vertigo were hardly romantic, though. She’d opted for underneath, in the middle, instead.
The river was full of tourists embarking on water tours of the Seine. Up and around Île de la Cité and back again. Families, couples, coaches of tourists. There was someone standing still in the middle of all that bustle, directly underneath the tower. Standing and waiting. It was him.
‘You came.’
His face relaxed as he saw her. Then tensed again. ‘Of course I came. You asked me to. Did you think I wouldn’t?’
It was so unbelievably wonderful to see him. ‘I didn’t know for sure.’
On this bright and sunny morning, in a different country, he looked different. Her husband. Luke. ‘Kate. What’s going on?’ His eyes looked concerned, worried, confused.
Kate took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘What for? I don’t know what’s going on, Kate. I just don’t understand. I had no idea there was anything wrong. When I saw Tim’s name, I thought… Well, I’m sure you can imagine what I thought. But when I spoke to him he said you’d just been meeting for a drink. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Can we sit down?’
Luke nodded, and they walked away from the tower and towards the Champ de Mars. The unexpected warmth of the October afternoon had brought people out with their blankets and picnics. The two of them found a space and sat down.
Luke crossed his legs and sat in front of her. ‘Okay. What’s up? Why did you just leave like that? If you wanted to come and see Shannon, I wouldn’t have had a problem with it.’
Kate shook her head. ‘It wasn’t about seeing Shannon, although that has been great. I left because I felt lost. I didn’t know who I was any more. And I wanted you to see what it was like. Not being able to suit yourself. Having to look after the children on your own.’
Luke frowned. ‘Okay. But I have had the children on my own before. I still don’t see what’s going on.’
How could she make him understand how she felt? ‘I want to be a good mum, Luke. It’s my job. But some days it’s just… overwhelming. And I’ve been angry. Really, really angry. Every day I have felt like I was fighting someone. The kids. You. Bloody Melissa. And then Dad died and I…’ Her voice croaked and she stopped to get control of herself.
Luke squeezed her hand. ‘If you needed more help, I could have…’
She held up a hand to stop him. ‘That was the problem. I did need help. But I didn’t ask. I wanted you to just realise. But even if you had offered, I’m not sure I would have taken you up on it. I’ve been on some kind of mission.’ She shook her head slowly as the truth of her words – Shannon’s words – began to truly sink in.
Luke nodded. He was trying to understand. ‘And what about Tim? What was going on there? And why didn’t you tell me?’
Kate put her hands up to her face and rubbed it. ‘I don’t know why I met up with him. I could get all deep and psychological and say that he represented my youth or something. But I think it was just because it was fun. And then it wasn’t fun any more. I realised what I was doing. And I realised that I did want to have fun. But I wanted to have fun with you.’
Luke reached out and took her hand. His kissed her palm and she brushed away a tear that had collected in the corner of her eye. He pulled her in close and she rested her head on his shoulder. It felt good.
She turned her eyes up at him. ‘I want to play the piano.’
He frowned. ‘You already do play the piano.’
She shook her head. ‘No, I don’t. I haven’t played in years. But I am going to start. Every day. And if the house stays a bit more untidy because of it, then so be it.’
‘Okay.’
‘And I might start giving lessons. Or playing in public. Or just playing to please myself. But I am going to play. And I need you to guarantee me one night a week when you will be home in time for me to do that. When you can have the kids and give them dinner and I can just leave and do what I need to do.’
Luke raised an eyebrow. ‘Even if I take them to Café M’s?’
She smiled. ‘Even if you feed them Weetabix and Easter eggs. It’ll be your night, your rules.’
Luke held her arms and pushed her away gently so that he could look in her face. ‘Really? Whatever I want?’
When she nodded, he grinned and flicked his sunglasses back down over his eyes. She could see her reflection laughing in the lens.
There she was.
* * *
The End
If you loved One Way Ticket to Paris, check out The Undercover Mother, a warm, emotional story about female friendships amidst the highs and lows of motherhood!
The Undercover Mother
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Jenny has too much on her plate: literally – she’s only expecting one child but she’s eating for at least three. Not to mention trying to juggle her nightmare boss, a know-it-all sister, and an infuriatingly laid-back husband.
* * *
She used to be known for her ‘Single Girl About Town’ column. But when her boss gives her job to a younger colleague, Jenny panics and proposes she blogs instead about being a clueless new mum. Surely people will find her new friendship group fascinating? (Even if the only thing they seem to have in common is that they all had sex around the same time 9 months ago...)
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And if her readers aren’t quite hooked yet, maybe Jenny will just have to be more liberal with the truth. After all, none of the other mums will read it… will they?
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The Undercover Mother is a hilarious parenting page-turner that will make you laugh, cry and want to crack open the gin. Perfect for fans of Why Mummy Drinks and The Bad Mother’s Diary.
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Also by Emma Robinson
The Undercover Mother
Happily Never After
One Way Ticket to Paris
A Letter from Emma
I want to say a huge thank you for choosing to read One Way Ticket to Paris. If you enjoyed it, and want to be kept up-to-date with my future releases, just sign up at the following link. Your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.
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I took a lot of the inspiration for this novel from some of my own past experiences. When I was twenty-nine, I ran away to Paris. I left my job and long-term boyfriend and moved to a very very small apartment in Montparnasse, attending a language school on Rue Victor Hugo every morning and wandering around Paris alone in the afternoons. It was one of the scariest, loneliest and most liberating things I have ever done and has given Paris a special place in my heart for ever. If I ever want to run away again, that’s where you will f
ind me.
Motherhood can be overwhelming. Like Kate, I lost my dad when my first child was very young and it was hard. I know from the followers of my blog that this is not an uncommon experience and I hope that I have done those feelings justice in my description of Kate’s thoughts. I hope, like me, that those people are able to see their lost parent in their own children. I also hope, like Kate, that we realise that it is important to take care of ourselves as well as our children.
Please help me to tell others about One Way Ticket to Paris by writing a quick review. This is only my third book, so I’d love to hear what you thought of it and which parts you enjoyed. Reviews make a huge difference in helping other people find my book and I am grateful for every single one.
I also love hearing from my readers. Come and join the fun on my Facebook page Motherhood for Slackers. They are a friendly bunch and we even let boys in. You can also find me on Twitter or my website.
Stay in touch!
Emma.
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www.motherhoodforslackers.com
Happily Never After
A hilarious, romantic love story about mothers, daughters and how on earth to find Prince Charming, for fans of Sophie Kinsella, Marian Keyes and The Gilmore Girls.
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Rory closed her eyes. Think with your head. Your heart can’t be trusted. Life is not a fairytale…
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Rory doesn’t believe in love. She’s got far too many real problems to deal with.
* * *
She’s just bought a tumbledown house. Her mother is generally behaving like a wicked witch, insisting on calling her Aurora, and generally interfering in her (admittedly pitiful lack of) love life. And her 16-year-old daughter has finally grown out of Disney princesses and discovered dating…
* * *
But Rory’s adamant that she doesn’t need saving. In fact, the only thing she’s wishing on a star for is a bit of practical help. However, when she meets a builder whose name is John Prince and who seems to be in the habit of rescuing her (right down to finding her lost shoe one evening) she might have to face a truth as uncomfortable as hobbling home barefoot – that maybe there’s something enchanted in the air.
* * *
Her mother, daughter and friends are convinced her prince has come, but Rory just wishes everyone could let it go. Especially when she hears a story that makes her question whether he is really the hero everyone thinks he is…
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Get it here!
Acknowledgements
First thanks, as always, must go to my brilliant publisher Isobel Akenhead whose knowledge of many subjects continues to astound me (sorry for making you cry!). More kisses for Kim Nash for her fantastic PR and friendship and to the whole Bookouture family for being flipping brilliant, particularly Susie Lynes for talking me down branch by branch from the top of the crazy tree when necessary. Thanks chick.
Gratitude again to Kate Machon, Elizabeth Symonds, Martin Ross and Marie Dentan for reading early chapters and for inspiring weekends in Southampton. Extra thanks to Marie for checking my French and suggesting locations.
Thank you to Kirsty Ireland for accommodating me at Walton Hall Farm at very short notice so that I could focus on editing. You saved me! Huge gratitude also to Carrie ‘Eagle Eyes’ Harvey for her amazing proofreading skills.
The best thing about being a teacher as well as a writer, is the subject specialists you can call upon. Thanks to Alexi Williams for sharing her love and knowledge of classical music with me for Kate (any mistakes are mine) and to Neville Dennehy for talking me through all things mathematical for Laura (and for plugging my book during your wedding speech!). More general thanks to Brendan Ryan for brainstorming plots, titles and characters when we should have been marking and to everyone in the English Department Vortex at Coopers for your support – especially my Life Twin, Heidi Smith and Super Reader, Sophie Edmeades.
Apologies and thanks to all the friends whose life experiences I have shamelessly plundered for material, particularly Sarah Martin, Kerry Enever and Tracy Mullen for your stories.
To my wonderful mum for all her continued support and to Dan for keeping me grounded and making me laugh.
And lastly, another big thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the last two books. I really hope you like this one too. x
Published by Bookouture in 2018
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An imprint of StoryFire Ltd.
Carmelite House
50 Victoria Embankment
London EC4Y 0DZ
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www.bookouture.com
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Copyright © Emma Robinson, 2018
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Emma Robinson has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this work.
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.
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eBook ISBN: 978-1-78681-698-6
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events other than those clearly in the public domain, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
One Way Ticket to Paris: An emotional, feel-good romantic comedy Page 24
