Chapter Eight
The morning we were leaving for Brittany, I woke to the sound of Keith’s piano.
“Good morning, my love.” He shot me a grin without rising from the piano when I emerged from the bedroom. “It took all my willpower not to wake and ravish you. I trust you slept well?”
“I feel like I’ve slept a week.”
Keith ran his fingers down the keyboard. “So, what time do we leave?”
“I made reservations on the train leaving Paris at two. If we leave soon we can have lunch in Paris. It’ll put us in Brittany late, but I’m in no hurry.”
I went to the kitchen to fix some eggs. Suddenly Keith was behind me, grabbing me around the waist.
I squealed in surprise. “Don’t do that!” I tried poking him in the ribs, but he grabbed my arms and pulled me towards him.
We began kissing. “This may be our last time getting close for awhile,” I said. “My Parents will have us in separate rooms.”
Keith grimaced. “We better get our fill, then.”
I was wearing one of his button shirts. He began unbuttoning it. I knew we had a train to catch and a kitchen to clean, but I couldn’t resist. His hands went inside my shirt and fondled my breasts. Somehow I managed to free myself, wrapping my arms around him. My hands did their own roaming over his bum, then up the inside of his thighs, before we were going at each other like wild animals. As a result of our fun, we left a dirty kitchen and caught a taxi, barely making the train on time.
“That was close,” I said as we boarded.
Keith gave me a naughty grin. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”
We waited a half hour for the hovercraft, then after another train ride, we finally arrived in Paris, starving. We found a sidewalk café and had crepes.
“It’s beautiful here,” Keith exclaimed. “I see why this is the city of romance.”
“My favorite childhood memories are coming here with my parents for the day. We’d ride a carousel, and they’d always buy me bon bons. Last time I was here was for my graduating class trip. That seems eons ago now.”
Keith took a gulp from his Guinness. “I’ve barely been out of London.”
I looked at him, surprised. “You never took family holidays?”
“My mum’s afraid of flying, so that limited things. I went to Blackpool once with Ryan.” He chuckled. “That was wicked. Me and Ryan rode the roller coaster like five times. Our sis Katherine and her friend wanted to look unattached in case some luscious-looking blokes were about. We were nine and ten. She was 15 and couldn’t be seen with us, but we followed her around unbeknownst. When they encountered some blokes from school, we snuck up behind them making kissy sounds.” He laughed again. “Both girls were furious and gave chase, but we managed to outrun them. I still hear Katherine yelling, ‘You little brats get back here. I’m telling Mum and Dad!’”
I laughed too. “We must come back here.”
“Let’s miss our train and stay the night,” Keith suggested.
“I don’t have enough for a hotel in Paris.”
“I’ve brought plenty, luv. We can live it up thanks to my grandparents.”
I shook my head. “You shouldn’t spend that much money.
“Don’t worry. I won’t squander the lot. Besides, when will we get another chance to go on holiday together?”
“I’m tempted, but my parents expect us.”
We caught our train and it was nearly eight by the time we arrived in Brest. My Parents greeted us at the station.
A few minutes later we were at the white stucco house. The trellised roses climbing up the front reached the second floor. As we climbed out of the car I could see the dormer of my bedroom, a gentle light glowing from it.
After some small talk we plead exhaustion, which was partly true. Keith was given the downstairs room while I slept in my old room upstairs. There was a small terrace off my room and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I glanced out my French doors and saw Keith. I flung open the doors. “How did you get here?”
I just shimmied up your trellis then climbed over.” He grinned with pride. “I even wounded myself on the thorns.”
“You might have fallen. The damp sea air makes things slippery. Promise you won’t do that again!”
“Okay, okay, I promise.” He held me tight. “I just can’t bear being without you.”
“We can be together without risking your life.”
“Stay out here and watch the moonlight over the sea,” Keith suggested.
I shivered. “It’s too chilly.”
Keith strode into my room and grabbed the quilt off my bed. He grabbed my hand and we snuggled in the lounge chair wrapped in the quilt. It was so romantic. We listened to the clinking masts in the harbor before warming ourselves in my bed. The taboo of sleeping together unbeknownst to my parents made it more romantic. Keith, always the early riser, slipped out of my room and my parents were none the wiser.
At breakfast, my father grilled Keith. “Brigitte says you are a student at the Royal Academy of Music. Do you have any prospects after you graduate?”
“I quit the academy to devote my energies to my band,” Keith responded, pouring himself some tea.
I cringed. I should have warned him not to mention that. It was too late. Both my parents glanced at me with raised eyebrows. “How do you support yourself?” he asked.
“I have a trust fund. By the time it’s gone, my band should be doing well.”
“Do you have other skills if this doesn’t work out?”
“I could get work as a session musician or something, but I hope I don’t have to.”
My mother spoke up. “You plan your future on a lot of maybes. Why not stay in school and keep your band as a side project?”
“I was bored studying piano. I like the politics of punk. Besides, playing gigs ‘til three in the morning and getting up at eight to go to school, took its toll.”
I thought Keith handled himself well and wished my parents would lay off.
“You are both so young. I would hate you to rush into anything you are not ready for,” my father continued.
I rolled my eyes. “I can make my own decisions.”
“You have not been away a year,” my father countered. “You will be a full-fledged adult when you can support yourself.”
I was anxious to drop the subject. “Me and Keith will do the washing up. Why don’t you two relax in the sitting room.”
“I will do the washing up with you,” my mother said. “I have not seen you in months and your visit is so short.”
I couldn’t argue. I only hoped Keith and I could get time on the beach.
“Come to the sitting room with me, then,” my father told Keith. “Brigitte has boasted of your musical abilities. I noticed you brought a guitar. Play for me.”
Keith didn’t look too enthusiastic, but grabbed his guitar and followed my father. “Your makeup is so heavy now. It detracts from your natural beauty. You look healthy, though,” my mother said.
I heard Keith begin playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.
“Keith’s an excellent cook and his mother Louisa feeds met.”
“Is that his real mother?”
“As real as you and Papa are to me. Keith’s biological parents are out of the picture and I’m not saying why.”
My mother continued. “Keith has no firm plans for his future. And this rock and roll world I would prefer you not be part of. It is a world of drugs and loose morals.”
I never told my parents I wanted to live in London because of the music scene and wasn’t about to now. “Keith doesn’t do drugs and his band doesn’t either. I have full access to his flat. I’d have found something.”
My mother shook her head. “You should move home for summer.”
“Why would I do that?”
“It will give you time to think things over.”
“I don’t need to. Besides, I want to check summer job postings at the academy when we return.”
My mother sighed. “I wish you enrolled in school locally. I thought you might be led astray in the city.”
I tried to control my anger. “Just because I fell in love, you think I’ve been led astray?” I wiggled two fingers in the air representing quotation marks. “You finish here. Keith and I want a walk on the beach before the tide comes in.”
“Keith may have obligations, but not you. I would love your visit to last longer.”
“Tempting as that is,” I lied. “I must look for a job before they’re taken. I’ll come again soon.”
I entered the sitting room and sat next to Keith on the sofa.
Keith seemed relieved to see me. “Fancy that walk on the beach now?” he asked me.
“Absolument. We’d best hurry. The tide comes in fast.”
“But your mother will be disappointed if you don’t spend every minute with us, and so will I,” my father protested.
“We will only be an hour. I promise.”
My father relented.
“Thank heavens!” Keith said as we left. “I’ve been dying to get you to myself.”
I wrapped one arm around him as we walked to the beach. “My parents will come around. Don’t worry.
We walked awhile on the beach, arms around each other, dodging errant waves as they crashed to the shore. It felt good to taste the sea mist again and feel the cool spray on my face. The gulls screeched their approval as they soared above us.
“Is there somewhere to get a Guinness?” Keith asked.
“It’s that bad, is it?” I teased. “I know a place in town.”
We spent an extra half hour at the pub where I sipped cider and watched Keith down two pints of Guinness.
“Take it easy,” I warned. “I don’t need you drunk in front of my parents.”
“Believe me, it takes more than two pints to get me pissed.”
“You’ll have to get used to them.”
Keith buried his head in his hands momentarily. “Fuck parents. Why is everyone telling me how to fucking live? I’m only eighteen.”
I had no answer.
We didn’t get back until well over an hour after I’d promised and my mother wasn’t happy. “You promised only an hour. We barely had time to visit.”
“I promise I’ll visit again before summer ends.”
“Aimee has been back visiting her parents many times.”
“I’m not Aimee. I prefer staying in London.”
“Let’s not quarrel,” my father butted in. “I thought we’d have lunch in town before taking you to the train.
“That sounds great,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic.
My Parents were better behaved, but there was tension in the air. When our train arrived and we said our goodbyes, my father made me cringe. “That’s my little girl and if you hurt her, you’ll answer to me.”
Keith wrapped one arm around me. “To me she’s a young woman and means everything to me.”
Finally on the train, I collapsed on the seat, breathing a sigh of relief. “When will my parents realize I’m not a child?”
“Maybe when you’re thirty,” Keith responded.
By the time we reached London I still couldn’t shake my disappointment. I’d always gotten on well with my parents. Couldn’t they see we were madly in love?
I temporarily forgot my problems as I watched The Piss Ants perform that night. Billy was perfecting maneuvers with his stand up bass. He spun it around, lifted above his head and danced a pas de deux with it without missing a lick. Keith riled those up front by crashing to his knees at the edge of the stage whenever he performed his short guitar solos. I stood at my coveted spot in front of the stage and was being jostled so ferociously I was sure my internal organs would be rearranged.
We finally staggered back to Keith’s flat exhausted and sweaty. I checked my messages from Keith’s phone and was sorry I had. My mother was upset I didn’t let her know I’d returned safely and demanded I call immediately to discuss unfinished business. I groaned and crawled into bed. I’d ring her after looking for work in the morning. I set out early and to my relief there were still job postings at the academy. One was working in the academy’s gift shop. It wasn’t much pay, but would supplement what I got from my parents. Armed with letters of recommendation, I interviewed and was hired on the spot. I couldn’t believe my luck. Surely my parents would see I was making good choices.
I walked back to the bedsit to call home. My mother answered, but before I could reveal my news, she lit into me about how worried she’d been when I hadn’t called.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t get your message until three in the morning.”
“London isn’t like Brittany. It isn’t safe to be out late.”
“Keith was with me and his brother Ryan who’s over 200 pounds and a black belt in karate. I have great news. I got a job at the academy’s gift shop and Keith’s opening one of the biggest rock festivals in Europe. Everyone who’s anyone plays that festival!”
“I’ve been looking at some summer programs in France. There’s one that looks perfect for you. It’s in Tours and you live in a chateau while you study.”
“I’m not leaving London.”
“What is the hold this boy has over you? You were so sensible before.”
“We are in love. What if someone tried keeping you and Papa apart?’
“We weren’t seventeen and eighteen. I want you home.”
“Send a hundred plane tickets. I won’t come. Aimee can’t live here alone.”
“I’ve spoken to her parents. We told you the first sign of trouble you were coming home. Aimee is returning because of you.”
“I’m attending one of the finest art schools in the world. Do you know what a career boost it is to have a degree from there?”
“There are plenty of equal schools in France. It will not ruin your prospects.”
“I won’t come home!” I slammed the phone down and began shaking. I never expected my parents would be like this. They weren’t keen on Aimee and me moving to London, but I thought when they saw how well we did, they’d ease up. To make matters worse, my work schedule prevented me from going to Roskilde.
[To be continued… Click here to view all chapters.]
