A night in Paris
Cat was about to get in the shower when she got the call. She was running late. Most of the others were ready and waiting in the bar downstairs. She picked up her mobile, shaking slightly.
‘Half an hour ago, very peaceful, mum was there.’ Her brother’s voice was calm.
She sat down on the bed and looked to the ceiling, a blur of thoughts in her head.
The phone rang again. It was Emma.
‘Where are you, we’re starving here. Table’s booked for 8.’
She could hear the others laughing in the background.
‘I’m just getting ready, come up and help me chose what to wear,’ Cat said.
Emma arrived several minutes later.
Cat told her what had happened. Emma started crying. She was hugging her. Cat felt uncomfortable.
It didn’t seem real.
‘Come on Emma, ‘she said, ‘I’m fine. Maybe you could go back down and explain the hold up.’
She felt the need to be alone for a few more minutes.
Back down in the bar the others were chatting and laughing. The table was full of colourful cocktails and wine glasses. It was happy hour at the Hotel Mondial, and it was their last night in Paris.
It had been a fun packed week-end.
They looked up and saw Emma’s face. They listened quietly as she told them what had happened.
Laughter turned to tears. For one it brought back memories, some knew him well, others thought of their own. One cried simply because the others did and it was hard not to.
They ordered pizza and got take-outs from the bar.
A few hours later Cat fell asleep, tucked in on the bed between her friends.
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