Page 21 of Dancing Fools and All That Jazz

Monica

It is late evening by the time we arrive at our hotel, the only one Fay could find that had vacancies for our number. I look up at the grimy name, barely legible, above the entrance; the Charbon Hotel. The cold, grey concrete exterior could not look any less inviting.

‘What a dive.’ I hear Ruby announce as Fay marches to the desk with Vince’s card to check us in and we crowd into the small foyer.

‘What does it mean, Charbon?’ Bonnie asks Ingrida.

‘I think it is name like carbon. It mean coal or smut…’

‘Frigging brilliant. The Smut Hotel.’ Ruby shakes her head.

‘First impressions are not good and it is such a terribly long way from the Gare du Nord Station.’ Asha also shakes her head, adding, ‘How long will it take us to get to the theatre tomorrow? I dread to think.’

‘I do not feel as if I am in Paris.’ Ingrida sighs.

‘Me neither,’ Asha adds. ‘This is not at all how I pictured it.’

No one wants to sit on the grubby green plastic seats in the cramped entrance way, so we clump together next to our cases and wait.

After several minutes, Fay starts to raise her voice.

‘No really, this will not do. Is there anyone here who can speak English? Avez vous receptioniste avec parlay beaucoup de Englais ?’

Ingrida – who, as it turns out, speaks fluent French and was brilliant getting us taxis at the station – crosses to assist Fay. The young man on duty converses with her before shrugging and handing her a single key.

Ingrida talks quietly to Fay, pats her arm gently and then holds the key up in the air as she returns to the group. ‘We are to share this room.’

‘What, all of us?’ I ask.

Ingrida nods.

‘All seven of us?’ Asha’s eyes could not go any wider.

‘You’re frigging joking?’ Ruby says.

Fay joins us, shaking her head. ‘I am afraid so. The concierge has told Ingrida all the rooms are multiple occupancy. No wonder the hotel was so affordable. Still, it cannot be helped, and I doubt we will be spending much time here… At least we have arrived safely and in time for the competition tomorrow.’

From the corner of my eye, I see Ruby pulling a face, but Bonnie and Cath are giggling.

‘Oh, come on now. It’ll be a right laugh to share a dormitory,’ Cath digs Bonnie with her elbow. ‘We went backpacking around Europe not so long ago. Stayed in every grade of hostel imaginable. This isn’t so bad.’

‘If this isn’t so bad, I’m dying to hear what’s worse,’ Ruby sniggers.

‘Our room it is on the fourth floor.’ Ingrida presses the lift button but then exclaims, ‘ Ne. Jā?anās …’

‘ Jā?anās ?’ Bonnie asks.

‘It mean—’

‘Oh frigging hell…’ Ruby stamps her foot.

‘ Ja something like that…’

Ruby points to a small hand-written notice on the lift door. ‘ Hors de service . It’s out of bloody service.’

‘We’ll have to use the stairs.’ Cath groans. ‘I think we’ll all feel hors de service by the fourth floor.’

We grab our suitcases and begin to mount the metal stairs, a bare bulb lighting the way on each floor. The walls have a thin coat of whitewash, which fails to cover up the graffiti underneath. I avoid touching the banister or the wall.

I am more shattered than I care to admit. We have spent the entire day travelling, much of it on our feet hanging around at stations. At least I managed to get a first-class seat on the train to London.

As it turns out, it proved to be a huge bonus to travel by train.

I was able to put my plan into action on Vince’s tablet – I doubt I could have done this on a flight – and now everything is set up.

It just needs to play out. I would have rewarded myself with a glass of wine, however, having had my head down looking at the screen combined with sitting in a chair that faced backwards I was left feeling really sick.

I pushed the device back into my case and asked the lady serving refreshments if she had any paracetamol.

She was unable to help, saying, ‘Sorry love. It’s these Pendolino trains. They cause a lot of trouble.’

Once in London, we had to battle through the crowds to get to St Pancras. Then we almost missed our train to Paris after the hold up over Ingrida’s passport.

At least we have eaten. I gave Fay the credit card to purchase a large batch of sandwiches, biscuits, and water for our journey to France. It was just as well as the buffet trolley on the Eurostar turned out to have sold out of everything but alcohol and crisps.

Ingrida, who is in front of me, pushes the heavy door to the fourth floor open and we trail after her down a narrow corridor to our room.

She opens the door and I follow her in.

The room is full of beds – two doubles and four singles – with barely any space in between.

One wall is lined with a few kitchen units next to a single bed in the corner and the other beds are criss-crossed in the main area of the room with just enough space to close the blinds of the large windows that face the brick facade of an adjacent building.

‘Woah. Look at all these beds.’ Bonnie shakes her head.

‘Someone is going to have to share a double.’ Asha puts her case on top of a single bed, and I quickly follow suit, putting mine on the single bed in the corner.

‘Oh, we’ll share, no problem.’ Cath throws her case onto the double, as does Bonnie.

‘At least the bedding looks clean.’ Fay inspects the pillowcase of the single she has chosen.

‘And there is a fresh towel on each bed,’ I add.

‘Ruby, you have double, I am OK in single.’ Ingrida points a hand to the second double bed, up against the window.

‘Thanks, Ingrida,’ Ruby replies. ‘This is so nuts. But I guess we only have to sleep here. By the way, Fay, whatever you paid, you were frigging robbed.’

‘We have paid nothing yet…’ Fay tuts but continues to inspect the amenities. ‘I see there is no storage space whatsoever. Not a wardrobe or chest of drawers in sight. We shall have to put our cases under the beds once we have retrieved the few things we need, otherwise we will trip over them.’

‘Let’s hope we can iron our costumes at the theatre.’ Bonnie holds up a crushed top from her case.

Ingrida flops down onto her bed. ‘I cannot believe we have made it to Paris. Thank you, Fay, for organising it all and you, Monica, for putting cost on your card.’ Ingrida gives a little smile, but her brows are furrowed when she adds, ‘I hope there will not be too much more expense.’

When I paid the taxi – a ridiculously large sum but unfortunately the only option after arriving so late – I noticed she was biting her nails.

For the first time she is not living up to the name Ruby gave her, ‘Happy-To-Be-Here-Ingrida’.

I guess nurses do not earn that much, although come to think of it, she announced she has just married a widower at the last rehearsal.

So surely, she’ll be better off? When my dad died, he left a fortune to my mum.

A flash of Vince’s face when he discovered how wealthy she was crosses my mind.

I always suspected it was not just my pregnancy that convinced him to propose.

Ingrida’s phone rings, and she disappears into the bathroom to answer it.

‘Yes, thanks again, Monica, and well done, Fay. You certainly got us all organised.’ Asha pulls out her pyjamas and starts to undress.

We all unpack our overnight items. Fay meticulously places everything in an ordered line across her bed before selecting what she needs and then neatly repacking her suitcase.

I must say, Fay has been quite a revelation, the way she took control and made a plan of action. It’s a pity she has such an unfortunate manner; she reminds me of my old headmistress.

I sigh inwardly as I scan our crammed room.

‘Where did you say Clarissa and Hazel were staying, Monica?’ Asha asks me.

‘They checked into a four-star hotel in an area close to the competition hall.’

‘Four stars. Lucky them.’ Bonnie’s bed is strewn with her costumes, make-up, curlers and heaven knows what else.

‘If I could give our hotel one star, it’d be one too many.’ Cath laughs.

‘And we will probably have to be up at the crack of dawn to get back into Paris to our theatre in time for the run-throughs.’ Asha yawns before adding, ‘I have never felt so tired. It feels way later than eleven-thirty.’

I start to yawn too and putting my hand to my mouth, I realise I’m still holding Vince’s credit card. Smiling to myself, I tuck it back in my bag.

Vince, you have no idea how handy this has been… No idea. Still, the way you brag about your creditworthiness, our expenses should hardly have made a dent in your so- say vast credit limit. I vaguely wonder if I will be able to get a room in Clarissa’s hotel tomorrow.

My fingers glance the new business card inside my bag, which I pull out with an involuntary shiver of delight before putting it back and getting changed.

The journey to Paris was the only part of the day to go too quickly. I found a seat well away from all the others, in particular Ruby, where a smart, well-dressed man helped me put my case in the luggage rack.

‘Thank you.’ His eyes were a piercing green and twinkled when he spoke.

‘Jean-Claude at your service, may I sit ’ere, opposite you?’

I had nodded, determined not to blush.

Jean-Claude began talking and his enchanting French accent drew me in.

‘I visit London to see my sons. Zey are at university there. You live in London?’

‘No. I live in the north of the England.’

‘I know Manchester.’

‘Yes, I live close to Manchester.’

‘My sons, zey love Manchester.’

‘Are they both at the same university?’

‘Yes. Zey do everything together. Zey are identical twins…’

‘Really. I have twins. A girl and a boy. They are fourteen.’

‘ Quelle chance . Pardon, I mean what a coincidence.’

He then showed me photos of his sons and I showed him my screensaver shot of James and Joanne. Talking to him came naturally, and our conversation flowed.