She was relieved, but slightly nonplussed when, instead of conversing with her, the people at the table immediately returned to their chatter. On her left-hand side was a young woman, around her own age, with dark brown hair drawn back into a ponytail. The woman spoke in rapid and hard-to-follow French with the person on Jasmine’s right, a short, olive-skinned man with tousled over-long hair. They leaned forward to hear each other over the surrounding din, so that Jasmine was forced to lean back to accommodate them. She struggled to follow the nuances of what they were discussing so intensely and strained to make out the words which flew in a fast argot.
Someone had thrust a tumbler of wine in her direction and she accepted it gratefully. When she took a sip, it tasted robust, rough, but
