Chocolate Macaroons And a Dead Groom (Poppy Peters Mysteries book 2)
“She throws her arms in the air and walks away shaking her head. Her auburn hair is starting to frizz, and it's nowhere as neat as it was this morning.
"It's not you, it's her," I say to the man. "Are you sure you don't have any trains to London until tomorrow?" "Yes, I'm sure." The man says, annoyed.
"What about to some other city where we can get a connecting train to Paris?" I ask.
"Like I told your mate, there are no trains running through here until the morning." "So we're just ...supposed to wait here?" I look around the tiny train station. If either of us wants to sleep at all our options are the floor and a rusty bench. The floor looks cleaner.
"There's an inn in the village," he suggests. "Just a few minutes walk from here, or you can go back to where you came from." "Thanks for your help," I reply, keeping a forced grin on my face. I cautiously approach Marta who is now rubbing her puffy eyes.MoreLess
"It's not you, it's her," I say to the man. "Are you sure you don't have any trains to London until tomorrow?" "Yes, I'm sure." The man says, annoyed.
"What about to some other city where we can get a connecting train to Paris?" I ask.
"Like I told your mate, there are no trains running through here until the morning." "So we're just ...supposed to wait here?" I look around the tiny train station. If either of us wants to sleep at all our options are the floor and a rusty bench. The floor looks cleaner.
"There's an inn in the village," he suggests. "Just a few minutes walk from here, or you can go back to where you came from." "Thanks for your help," I reply, keeping a forced grin on my face. I cautiously approach Marta who is now rubbing her puffy eyes.MoreLess
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