‘So what is Paris like?’ I asked, unwrapping my icy-pole as my sister hopped back in the car.
‘I don’t know,’ she struggled, pulling out of the petrol station. ‘That’s a hard question to answer.’
‘Is it?’
‘Yeah! What’s any city like? What’s Seaford like?’ she laughed.
‘It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter,’ I rolled my eyes. ‘But tell me about Paris!’
‘Well, I was only there in the winter…’ she joked. If she hadn’t been driving I would have poked her in the ribs.
‘I can’t believe you’re not letting me live vicariously through you,’ I sighed. ‘It’s because you had a secret Parisian fling, isn’t it?’
‘What?’
‘You didn’t see any of the sights because you were too busy spending time with a qualified European car mechanic.’
‘Qualified?’
‘Qualified is the new sexy, look it up.’
‘Right,’ she rolled her eyes. ‘And no, that isn’t why I’m not telling you anything.’
‘A-ha!’ I cried out. ‘So there is a reason!’
‘Don’t be so dramatic,’ she said, focusing on the road. ‘But yes.’
‘Well?!’
‘I want you to do your own travelling,’ she said, looking across at me. ‘I want you to tell me what Pairs is like!’
‘I don’t really want to travel,’ I shrugged. ‘Doesn’t interest me.’
‘Doesn’t it?’ she waggled her eyebrows. ‘You don’t want to find your own fully-certified mechanic?’
‘I’m more than happy picking an auto electrician operating in Seaford,’ I laughed. ‘You see, you have no sway over me, so you may as well just tell me what Paris is like.’
‘I’m feeling manipulated.’
‘Because I’m not letting you manipulate me?’
‘Fair point,’ she conceded with a sigh. ‘Alright, would you like to know what I really did with my week in Paris?’
‘Obviously,’ I nodded.
‘I had food poisoning,’ she admitted. ‘Ate one snail and spent the next five days in my hotel bathroom.’
I pressed a hand to my mouth in shock.
‘So there was really no mechanic?’
‘I wish,’ she sighed. ‘I wish.’