Part 3; Hedonism
Part 3; Hedonism
En route to Paris.
His blaze of excitement made him disregard the fact that a musician travelling on the train would cause a stir. Sometime after Ashford he knew the giggles were because of him. Three teen girls across the aisle a few rows down certainly knew who he was. He lifted his fingers to acknowledge them, and managed a smirk. He lifted his book a little higher to indicate that was the end of it. The girls had other plans, and the phones had come out. Alex got his best camera smile ready, reluctantly closed Our Lady of The Flowers, and allowed the pictures to be taken.
The last girl was a bit older than her friends, at least to him she seemed a little more conniving. Her eyes held a bit of mischief and her hands didn’t shake as she sat alongside him. Trouble he thought. As they leant in slightly for the portrait, she angled her breast into his side. The shock meant he involuntarily turned his head and she moved in to snatch a kiss and to slide a hand over his jeans. Used to such attempts, he had anticipated this, and grabbed her hand to prevent it’s journey. Out-witting him, she brandished their entwined hands above the table top just in time for another photo opportunity.
‘That’s all for now ladies’ and he tilted his head to tell them to push off. Grabby had left her number behind on the seat, he removed it and folded it up without bothering to see what she was offering. Book opened, iPod on, waiting for Paris.
**************
At the Gare du Nord, Miles was hovering below the arrivals board, checking his watch, pacing around, then checking the time again.
‘Pardonnez-moi,’ a tiny lady was tapping his arm. Miles felt that familiar panic at knowing only enough French to get served, buy fags or pick up girls. Now, he was stuck.
‘Errmmm…..I’m English mam, I dunno how to help you with directions, sorry…’
The woman looked quite puzzled. He tried again digging around for the words, ‘English, no francais….oh god…’.
‘Oh no, I don’t want directions, and I know you’re English ! I was just using my new French on you !’ She was beaming at him, ‘I thought you were from that pop band my grand-daughter likes ?’
‘The Rascals ??’ Miles was shocked, maybe things were better than he knew in Britain for them.
‘Oh no, you know those boys…let me see now…ah yes, Oasis ?’
‘Thanks, but I’m not in that band.’ And thank god Alex wasn’t here for that.
‘Oh ! Nice suit anyway.’ She patted his arm and trotted off.
Looking back to the clock, he saw it was after 6. The arrivals showed the Eurostar had just arrived. Miles ran.