A Night on the Orient Express by Veronica Henry

Author:Veronica Henry
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Tags: Fiction, General
ISBN: 9781409130963
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2013-07-03T23:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

The Stones were dining in the Voiture Chinoise, glamorously intimate with its creamy yellow ceiling and black lacquer panels, inscribed with a menagerie of animals – elephants, monkeys, alpine sheep and a pair of whales. Stephanie felt a squiggle of pride in her stomach as she sat down at the table opposite Simon.

Jamie was on her left, next to the window, and Beth was opposite him. They looked, she decided, like the perfect family, the men in their suits, and she and Beth in their little black dresses. She supposed the more cynical observer would work out that she was unlikely to be the matriarch, unless she’d been a child bride or had an awful lot of plastic surgery, but she didn’t care.

Simon was feeling very jovial. He’d spent most of the afternoon poring over the map in their cabin, trying to identify exactly where they were on their journey by the landscape outside, and getting excited when they passed another train.

‘Did nobody tell you?’ he laughed to Stephanie, ‘about my trainspotting tendencies?’

Stephanie put a hand on her chest in mock panic.

‘Oh my God – I’d never have come if I’d known I was going to be trapped on a train with a trainspotter.’

‘He’s not kidding,’ said Jamie. ‘He spots planes too. He’s got a plane-spotting app on his phone.’

Simon groaned. ‘Jamie. You promised not to give me away.’ He held up his hands in helpless defence. ‘We live near the flight-path. So I like to know what’s flying over. What’s wrong with that?’

‘You’re an anorak, Dad,’ Beth told him. She pointed at him. ‘Even worse, you have an anorak. That beige thing you wear.’

‘It’s a ski jacket.’ Simon feigned indignation. ‘And it’s off-white.’

Beth shook her head.

‘Beige anorak.’

‘Beige anorak,’ agreed Jamie. ‘With an elasticated waist.’

‘And a hood.’ Beth indicated a hood with her hands.

The two kids fell about laughing.

Stephanie couldn’t stop herself either. Simon crossed his arms.

‘Well, if I’d known I was going out for dinner with the fashion police . . .’

Stephanie leaned over and stroked his arm.

‘It’s OK. I love you. Anorak, trainspotting manual and all.’

‘Good!’ Simon held the wine list at arm’s length, then looked at Jamie and Beth with an arch expression. ‘I’m guessing you both want lemonade to drink? As you’re behaving like children?’

Stephanie was about to protest that they should be allowed to have wine when Simon grinned and ordered a bottle of Pouilly-Fumé. She sat back in her seat, wondering if she would ever acclimatise to family banter: the constant teasing, the verbal parrying and thrusting. She was still never quite sure when anyone was joking or if they really meant it. It was a learning curve, that was for certain.

Jamie waited judiciously until everyone was tucking into their main course: a Charolais roast fillet of beef with a tarragon mousseline sauce. Simon had chosen a bottle of Gevry-Chambertin to go with it, and Jamie made sure his dad had drunk half a glass before he broached the subject. It was important with adults to hit them with tricky propositions after they’d had something to drink, but not too much.

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