Page 58 of Polo Fever
My heart is hammering too hard for me to speak.
Studying my face, he frowns. ‘If you’d rather spend the day on your own, though, I—’
‘No, no. I’d like the company,’ I admit, unable to fight a smile.
He breaks into a relieved grin. ‘Great. One day in Paris. Where do we start?’
Nineteen
I have a strong suspicion Mateo is trying to talk me out of going up the Eiffel Tower.
‘It’s better from the ground,’ he claims, as I lead the way to join the ticket office queue. ‘There’s not much point in going all the way to the top. Here, you can appreciate it, but spending money to get, what, a good view? It’s not worth it.’
‘That must be why no one ever does it,’ I reply sarcastically, getting out my phone and replying to Jasper, who’s messaged to ask how it’s going out here.
‘It’s like all these tourist things in cities, though. The locals don’t do it. They know it’s a trap. I can take you to a dozen rooftop bars across Paris where we don’t have to pay to get just as good a view – better, even, because the view from those has the Eiffel Tower in it.’
‘Mateo, I warned you that this is how the day was going to go,’ I tell him, busy typing my reply to Jasper. ‘If you don’t want to come, then you don’t have to. But I am not spending a day in Paris and not going up the Eiffel Tower.I’m sure the views from your rooftop bars are lovely, but,’ I glance up from my phone and point to the top of the tower, ‘they’re not that high, are they?’
Tipping his head back, he squints up at it, before relenting. ‘No. No, they’re not.’
‘Are you getting a ticket with me, then?’
He sighs, his shoulders slumping. ‘Fine,’ he mutters.
‘That’s the enthusiasm I’m after!’ I cry, giving him a playful jab on the arm.
With a reluctant smile at my quip, he folds his arms across his chest and looks towards the top of the tower again while I shuffle forwards in the queue. When we enter the elevator to go up, I hear him mumble something under his breath, questioning the necessity of the glass windows, but it doesn’t make any difference anyway since it’s so crowded, I can’t see a thing as we ascend. Mateo is gabbling on at about one hundred miles per hour at how the view is good enough from the lower floors, but I’m determined to go to the summit.
‘I know you’ve done this before, but I want the full experience,’ I insist as we make our way to the smaller elevator that takes visitors all the way up. ‘We don’t have to spend long up there, but apparently, the views are spectacular. Don’t worry, there’s still plenty of time to do everything else.’
It’s not until we reach the top and everyone files out that I realise something is wrong.
Expecting him to be next to me, I walk out and realise I’ve somehow lost him in the few paces from the elevator onto the viewing platform. Turning round in confusion, I see that he hasn’t exited the elevator at all. He’s pressed up against the side of it in one corner, the colour drained from his face while the elevator attendant attempts to coax himout in French and then, when that’s not working, excellent English.
‘Mateo?’ I come back to him as the operator steps aside to let me closer. ‘Are you all right? What’s wrong?’
His eyes are wide with fear. I’ve never seen him like this before.
‘I probably should have m-mentioned that I’m not g-good with heights,’ he stammers.
‘What?’ I gape at him, guilt hitting me like a gut punch to the stomach. ‘Mateo! Are you serious? You’re afraid ofheights. Why wouldn’t you say something?’
‘You wanted to come here so badly.’
‘If you’d said, I never would have—’
‘That’s why I didn’t say.’ He gulps audibly. ‘I… I want to do this. I just… can’t.’
My heart swells as I watch him try to build up the courage to step out the elevator. His bottom lip trembling slightly, his eyes gleaming with panic, he looks consumed by fear, but there’s a hint of determination in his expression, the look of someone who’s not ready to give in quite yet. I step towards him and reach for his hand, linking my fingers through his, squeezing it tightly. His eyes flicker down at me as I give him a reassuring smile.
‘It’s okay, I’m here,’ I say so gently, it’s almost a whisper. ‘We’ll do it together. This lower level is completely enclosed.’
He gives a sharp nod, his throat bobbing.
‘Big, deep breaths,’ I encourage as we begin to walk out, his legs wobbling enough for him to put a hand out against the elevator wall to steady himself.
‘I… I want you to know, that there are many things I amnotafraid of,’ he stammers, his hand clutching mine so tight,I’m beginning to lose all feeling in it. ‘Sharks, no problem. Snakes or spiders, they don’t bother me. You ever have a spider in your room that you need handling? Come to me, I will rescue him and put him outside for you.’
