Transfer at Sacre Coeur

The TGV arrived at Montparnasse. It was the end of the line. Baby Pierre got off.

Where was it Ouvert had said they were going? Montmartre? How were they going to get there?

The Metro, of course. Baby Pierre headed for the underground.

Lucky Ouvert. He would be riding in the Room of One's Own. All the way back to Australia. Baby Pierre had only his wits to help him get home.

Baby Pierre took the Metro to Abbesses, and climbed up the steps, emerging into the sunlight and bustle of Montmartre. He sat down at a table outside a cafe, and ordered a beer.

Where were Gaius and Margaret? Where was that fathead Ouvert?

A woman in crazy coloured stockings walked by, and a man in a yellow lycra suit.

A carousel tinkled and spun. The low sun dazzled his eyes.

He heard someone say: Sacre Coeur? It's just around the corner, and up the hill. Everyone goes there.

Right! thought Baby Pierre. Gaius and Margaret will go there, if everyone does. Sacre Coeur, here I come.

Soon he was at the base of the steps leading to the Basilique of the Sacre Coeur, gazing up at the beautiful white castle in the sky.

People were stitting on the grass above him. Men were selling handbags under the trees.

And there was Margaret, buying a handbag.

My old bag smells of sardines, she was saying to Gaius. I really need this.

She paid for the handbag and began at once to transfer her belongings into it from the Room of One's Own.

Whee! said Ouvert, jumping in. A new bag! Super!

What a nitwit! thought Baby Pierre.

What will you do with this now? asked Gaius, picking up the Room of One's Own.

Throw it away, said Margaret.

I can use it, said Gaius.

With pleasure, said Margaret. Just keep it away from me.

Gaius looked pleased. It would be perfect for his dirty socks and underpants.

Baby Pierre also looked pleased.