It was true, and Audrey had decided that shocking Grace might be her new favorite pastime. She never would have thought she could have enjoyed learning a language, but Grace made it fun.
“Can you come up here at night?”
“Yes. It’s beautiful.”
“You’ve done that?” Audrey glanced at her and saw a faraway look in Grace’s eyes. “Did you kiss him here?”
“That is none of your business.”
“That means you did.”
Grace stepped back. “Time to go down.”
“Where next?”
“We are taking an open-top bus tour of Paris.”
“They can’t afford a roof? Just kidding.” She hesitated, and then slid her arm into Grace’s. “We have the same thing in London.”
“I’m going to point out a few things and teach you the words in French.”
“There’s always a downside.” Audrey moaned that Grace made her learn words constantly, but deep down she was quite enjoying it. Apart from that one little moment in the hotel, Grace was always consistent, which made a pleasant change.
Grace was kind and patient, and she made learning easier than usual.
There was no sweating over books, and no smudging of ink while she tried to form letters. Instead, Grace took a practical approach. She taught Audrey greetings, and made her repeat them over and over again and whenever a customer entered a shop. Bonjour, ça va? Comment allez-vous? When someone responded with words Audrey didn’t understand, Grace translated. Then she recorded all the new words using Audrey’s phone and encouraged her to listen to them and repeat them aloud before the next day.
Grace used unorthodox methods to help her remember the words. She put stickers on items in Audrey’s apart ment. Bed=le lit. Chair=la chaise. Audrey had fun switching them around and pretending she’d mixed up the words even when she hadn’t.
The most laughs came when Grace acted out a word and made Audrey guess what it was.
“Er—I don’t know.” She’d watched as Grace had mimed a weird pecking motion. “Whatever happens, never do that in public.”
Grace had tried again, and Audrey had burst out laughing. “Are you a camel? No, you haven’t taught me the word for camel.” Audrey thought about the words they’d learned. “Er—you’re a chicken?”
“En francais!” Grace insisted, and Audrey shrugged.
“I don’t know. You need to buy me a chicken and stick a label on it to remind me.”
“You do know. Here’s a clue—” Grace started doing an imitation of breaststroke and Audrey grinned.
“It’s a swimming chicken? Oh, wait, I get it—pool—poulet.”
“Yes! Well done.”
They were both laughing. Audrey knew the sight of Grace pretending to be a chicken wasn’t something she was going to forget in a hurry.
“I think you should teach me the word for cow.”
“Is that a word you’d find useful?”
“No, but I want to see you acting out a farmyard.”
In between the laughter, she learned. Grace was so excited by her progress that she started to think that maybe she wasn’t such a hopeless case.
A few days later, Grace stuck a gold star on Audrey’s T-shirt. “Congratulations. You’ve learned a hundred words.”
Audrey looked at the star. “What? Am I six years old?” It was like one of the ones they gave you in kindergarten, except she’d never been given one. She’d never been given a sticker in her life. She decided to keep it on, and told herself it was because she didn’t want to offend Grace. “This is the kind of thing they give you as a reward for not biting the dentist.”