Seize The Day

Chapter Fourteen

Paris, Paris, Paris.

Sophie looked up at the Tour d’Eiffel  looming on the skyline in a dominant way and sighed. This was one of her favourite cities, and there was no better company that Vincenza. Her friend was sad, morose at times, she really loved Edward and the fact that he had rejected her was breaking her heart. Sophie was also still reeling at her conflict with Bill, as they’d left the house, they’d told him where they were going, invited him to join them via a scrawled message, but neither had heard from him, and that upset her, they rarely went on trips like this without him, and there was a gaping hole in their days. Not that Paris didn’t entertain! They’d were having a great time.

Currently Vincenza was in a designer salon having her dark hair lightened, cut, as well as all manner of waxing, plucking, primping and teasing. Sophie just wasn’t girly enough to join her, so she sat outside a small cafe drinking coffee and watching the world go by. It was a cold day, but bright and sharp, but she was glad of the heater above the cafe window that warmed her up.

Her school level French had improved when she’d studied art, and she’d spent a whole term in Paris studying at the various museums, so she could pick up a newspaper and just about manage to read the content.

When her phone rang she snatched for it, dying to hear Bill’s gruff chuckle on the other end.

                “Hello?” She couldn’t hide the stress in her voice.

                "Sophie!” The voice was more smarm than gruff...Miles. “Are you overseas?”

She realised the Europe ring tone and given away her location, “yes, I’m in Paris, something cropped up last minute.”

He sighed, “I was hoping we could meet tonight...for dinner.”

                “Maybe when I'm back, I'm not sure when that’ll be...I’ll call you, ok?”

As he spluttered a response, she hung up, complaining of the terrible connection that their phones had made. In truth the line had perfect clarity, but the vocalised crackles hopefully backed up her claims. Once again in silence, her focus returned to the busy traffic and the colourful pedestrians that swarmed around Montmartre.

Her mind drifted to the same place it always seemed to these last few weeks. Bill. That weekend, the wedding, he’d been the perfect man, the perfect company...and one kiss had driven a rift on a par with the Grand Canyon between them. Picking up her phone, she scrolled to his number, this bullshit had to end now.

                “Hi, you've reached the answer phone of Bill Swift...leave a message and I’ll call you back.”

She groaned, but couldn't hang up now, it was heart on the line time, “Bill...it’s me. I hate we’re not speaking, I know that shit has happened, but we’ve been friends for too long to let things ruin it. Will you please call me, or better yet, come join us in Paris. Nothing is the same without you...” The words ‘I love you’ hovered on her lips, but she couldn’t seem to spit them out. So hanging up she put the phone back into her pocket, praying he’d call soon.

Bill had never known exhaustion like this. He’d spent three days getting used to his team, nine guys from all walks of life who shared the same passion for cycling as he. But they’d all been meeting up regularly for the last six months, training for the race that started in nine days time. He was the only one not up to scratch. So he was playing catch up, learning tactics, team rules and identifying his best and worst features, trying to be the best team player possible. And it meant grafting fourteen hours a day, the work was almost more mental more than physical.