It's the last Thursday of a lazy summer, nearing the midday hour when I finally wake to a polite knocking on the door.

"Miss Mavros." The genteel voice, slightly muffled by the thick door belongs to John, resident butler and legal guardian of my estate until i am of legal age to take control of my own affairs. "Miss Mavros, you simply cannot delay any longer; your flight leaves promptly at two."

It's no big deal to ignore John and arrange for another flight, but I am looking forward to the weekend, if not necessarily what follows. So I assure him I'm really getting up this time and walk stiffly to the adjoining bathroom. A quick shower helps awaken me, though not as thoroughly as the jolts of pain as I comb through my wild hair afterwards. I dress comfortably in jeans and a sweater, both brand name, and sweep down the stairs to the dining room where John has my breakfast – or lunch, I'm not sure which – sitting at the table.

I eat most of one of Jovi's – our cook's – gigantic fluffy pancakes but I especially appreciate the tall mug of strong black coffee before me. John very elegantly carries my single, if rather large, bag down the stairs and out to the car.

I slip into the kitchen and pour the leftover coffee into a travel mug and call a farewell to Jovi. After years spent trying to soften the staff, I've long since given up on the effort, though I still try to be polite. Today Jovi's busy preparing the supper meal; a group of hikers is supposed to be coming through the area later this afternoon and have booked one of the guest houses. I can't imagine anything better than Jove's cooking after a long mountain hike,

John is already holding open the door to the rental car, ordered this morning from the town nearest to our mountain retreat.

"Thank you, John," I say. "See you next summer."

"Enjoy the school year," he replies in his way – kindly, but lacking any real warmth.

I assure him I'll try and the driver shifts into drive as John politely clicks the door shut, and before I fully realize it, my journey is beginning.

As if to forewarn me about the coming year, the weather turns sour halfway through the flight. Thankfully, the pilot decides to land before we reach the ocean jag of the route. However, by the time we are able to take off again, the delay has been so long we don't arrive in London until late Friday evening.

I am feeling weary and just a little irritable when I finally spot my friend and classmate, Jessamine Devereaux, lounging in the lobby, her chaperone standing vigilantly beside her. A second after I spot her, she lifts her gaze to mine and before I can reach her, she's off and running at me, sweeping me into a fierce hug.

"'Ow I 'ave missed you!" she exclaims, shouting practically straight into my ear. I almost lose my balance; Jessamine is willowy but considerably taller than I am, six feet, and her momentum is impressive. I struggle to stay on my feet and understand what she's yelling at me. Her strong French accent colouring her speech, I almost miss her next words. "Though I still do not know why you 'ave chosen to meet in this 'orrid city."

I grin and hand my bag off to the chaperone. "Because," I say, "we always meet in Paris. Don't you ever just want to go somewhere different?"

"Why would I," she replies haughtily, "when Paris is the greatest place to be? Still, as you say, we will go somewhere else, 'owever poor your choice is."

"You'll love it," I reassure her, admiring her inky black, perfectly styled hair. The sharp, almost edgy cut compliments her features perfectly.

"So you say," she retorts, "but 'ave you ever been 'ere?"

"I haven't been anywhere," I joke, rolling my eyes. Jessamine laughs because it's true in comparison to all the places she's been. "Anyway, when is Fleur getting in? And where's Alain?"

"About 'alf an 'our ago," a crystal clear voices pipes up from behind me. I forget about Alain completely as I recognize the voice. "I thought we were meeting right at the gate."

Both Jessamine and I ignore the snark in her tone and turn to include her in the embrace, devolving into a fit of girlish giggles. I even join in the frivolity, a rare occasion, and we meander slowly out to Jessamine's car, looking forward to spending the weekend together before we will be returning to school.