“Kim! Wake up! We’re late for breakfast.” I heard Bianca cry, shaking me awake frantically. Burying my head under the pillow, I let out a low groan. After two more failed attempts to get me up, I finally rolled out of bed, and stumbled to the shower. The shower itself kept switching between hot and cold, making me scream out in surprise every few minutes. After changing into my vintage polka-dot skirt and a simple white vest top, I only just managed to slip on my shoes as I followed Bianca down the stairs to the dining room. Only a few people from our class remained and there was absolutely nothing edible left on the buffet counter. We stared sadly at the empty platters, which me realise how hungry I was.

“Bonjour!” I looked up to see Céline, waving at me cheerily. She looked at our disappointed faces and then down at the platters. “Ah, late for breakfast?” We nodded forlornly. “I’ll get you something from the kitchen.” She laughed, returning a few minutes later with a freshly baked baguette and a selection of pastries. Delighted, we both thanked her profusely, and in between mouthfuls of the warm, soft bread, I introduced Bianca and took the opportunity to ask her about last night’s phone call.

“It was definitely a guy. Apart from that I don’t really know.” She replied thoughtfully. “Though I’m sure he had a nice voice. Anyway I better get back to work.” Thanking her for the breakfast, I retuned to nibbling a pastry, still clueless about the mystery caller’s identity.

We thankfully made it on the bus in time, though Mr Walton moaned he was just about to send out a search party. It had just turned nine when we reached the Louvre. We were spilt into two groups of ten, Bianca was in Walton’s, while I was stuck with Newt. While shuffling in a large crowd through the doors of the glass pyramid, The Louvre’s magnificent and newest entrance.

Bianca nudged me and smiled.

“Enjoy your rendezvous!” Before I could respond, Mr Walton ushered her away with the rest of his group, down the revolving spiral staircase and into the museums bustling centre.

After purchasing our tickets, to my chagrin Newt chose to start in the Denon wing. This made getting to the ground floor of Sully a bit more complicated.

After what seemed like endless hours of tedious facts and aching feet, I took the thousandth glance at my watch and let out a sigh of relief. Time to find out who would be waiting at the Venus de Milo.

“Excuse me, Mrs Newton?” I asked, the epitome of politeness. She halted her latest oration about a troubled late 17th century painter, and stared at me clearly perturbed.

“What is it, Miss Coburn?”

“I’m just going to the toilet.”

“Oh no, you can wait until the next toilet break.” She replied hurriedly, obviously wanting to get back to boring us all to tears. A few people groaned, shuffling uncomfortably. The next toilet break wasn’t for an hour and I obviously wasn’t the only one who wanted to go. I better think fast.

“But it’s that time of the month.” I pleaded quietly, so only Mrs Newton could hear. I don’t know what it is about that sentence, however if you ever need to get out of anything at school, it works like a charm.

“Fine. Though be quick.” I nodded my head secretly amused, as I didn’t even intend to come back. I was going to text Bianca and join up with her group, saying I had got separated from my own. I set off quickly for the Sully Wing. It was quarter to twelve, I could probably still make it with a few minutes to spare.

After a couple of wrong turns, and being roped into taking a photo for an elderly German couple, I finally made it. Flopping down on a bench which faced the sculpture, I caught my breath. Looking up, I gazed around the room, not seeing anyone but tourists and a few security guards. Then someone sat down on the bench next to me.

“Nice, but slightly overrated, don‘t you think?” A familiar voice murmured in my ear. I turned to see Oliver Snow gazing thoughtfully at the statue of the Roman love goddess.