Drunk in Paris
Bien loin d'ici
“How have you been then Ava?”
I smiled at Charles over my wine. This man was my favourite, not only because he shared the first name of my favourite poet, but because Charles treated me differently from the others. To him I was human, with my own life, he didn’t care how pathetic it was, it was still my life and I was alive and trying to survive it. Charles had been with me for years, he sat there, in his expensive suite, smoking his expensive cigar and leaning back in the very expensive chair of the restaurant he had taken me to. His hair had been threatening to turn grey for years and now it seemed every thread had turned to a darkened silver whisper. Soft creases crinkled around his warm eyes in glee, he was a charmer, he was constantly looking at me in almost adoration.
“I have been very well Charles. What about yourself?”
He snorted a puff of smoke form his nostrils, frowning like an angry bull.
“Dreadful, I can’t tell you how long it has been since I had enjoyed some red wine with company that I actually feel affection for.”
I smiled, “How is the divorce going?”
He cackled loudly, his thick Eton accent piercing the noise erupting from his throat,
“Ah, marvellous, marvellous, I do tend to pick women who cannot battle it out properly in a courtroom. I think to myself when I’m at the alter now she…she has enough fire in her belly to put up a decent fight if this all goes to pot and yet they always seem to disappoint me.”
He sipped at his wine before continuing,
“Now Ava, you seem to have enough passion to take me on in the divorce courts, how do you feel about being the next Lady Winchester?”
I giggled, “No thank you Charles, I’m sure you’ll find wife number 6 around the next corner.”
The older man stubbed out his cigarette and leaned over the table to me,
“You seem different; did you have a life changing experience on the fair streets of Paris?”
God Charles knew me too well.
“What makes you think that?”
“You’re eyes are glossing over darling.”
I smiled into the gulp of my wine.
“Did you meet a magnificent French Lord out there in frog land?”
I frowned at him as he unwrapped another cigar, “Charles dear, there are no French Lords, there was a minor event called the French Revolution if you remember?”
“Oh yes, well history isn’t my forte.”
“That is demonstrated by the fact that you are going through your fifth divorce.”
Charles chuckled, “Tell me about him.”
I sighed and looked across the restaurant; the rain beat down heavily against the window, the night sky disrupted by the low shimmer of the street lamps outside.
“Charles I’m here to entertain you, not to talk about myself.”
He reached out a strong hand to mine and held it tightly, his nicotine stained fingers contrasting with my pale skin.
“Ava, darling, you entertain me by just sitting here, we have been friends for years and you still keep up this façade, talk to me. I enjoy it.”
“He’s American.” I smiled after a few moments silence.
“A yank? Hmmm, I would never have guessed, tell me more.”
“He’s a musician, a quite famous one at that.”
Charles rolled his eyes, “I would never have thought you would have fallen into this absurd and empty fascination with celebrity.”
“I didn’t know who he was.”
“That’s probably why he likes you.”
I jumped at the minor stabbing statement.
“Forget about it let’s talk of something else.”
“No Ava I want to hear who my darling has fell for, I’m sorry, what’s his name?”
“Billie Joe.”
“How redneck.”
“Charles.” I snapped, placing my drained wine glass down in front of me.
The man grinned at me, “I am teasing you… now Ava darling I’m sorry, I am just jealous that a yank musician has wooed you and all my years of trying has failed.”
I shook my head in amusement.
“Flattery is the devil’s tool Charles.”
“And a very useful one for getting beautiful women to enjoy the company of a withered old fool such as myself.” He smirked, “Now pass me the wine menu, we have a cause to celebrate if you have finally dealt your cards in this heartbreaking game of love…”
I was awakened that night by the annoying beeping of my cell phone. My eyes snapped open and I quickly jumped up to answer the call. My body shaking at the diagonal change of position and the voice I will soon hear down the other end of the line. Charles groaned in the bed next to me and I frowned, softly plodding along the carpet and into the bathroom.
“Hello?” I answered, perching myself on the edge of the marble bath.
“Ava! It’s me! Billie Joe!”
“Hi!” I giggled, a strong swell of emotion racing through me.
“How are you? Did you get back okay? We’ve only just landed. Tre threw up on the flight attendant. It was so funny I almost pissed myself.”
I chuckled; careful not to be too loud encase I woke Charles.
“I’m good it sounds like you had a fun flight.”
“Nah, it absolutely stunk of puke, but anyway Ava, I was ringing to ask you if you want to come and stay for a week soon. Like maybe next week? We will be home then.”
My heart thudded in my chest.
“I would love to but can I get back to you on that? I mean I’ll have to sort some stuff out.”
“Yeah sure, of course.”
“So, where are you?”
“Barcelona, it’s not that hot either which is rubbish.”
"Oh well, plenty of San Miguel for you to drink I’m sure.”
Billie chuckled, “Yeah that’s true… “
There was a pause and slight shuffling down the phone…
“Everyone says hi by the way…”
“Say hi back for me…”
“…OI! AVA SAYS BONJOUR!” Billie yelled down the phone making me jump in the cold bathroom.
“There ya go.” He giggled.
“Thanks, I’m sufficiently deaf too.”
We both chuckled, “Oh…okay…sorry Ava I have to go…I’ll ring you tomorrow okay?”
“Okay, Bye Billie Joe, have fun.”
“I will bye Ava.”
The phone went dead and I smiled as I silently made my way to the bed. I sneaked underneath the covers, phone still clutched in my palm.
I turned over, wishing that Charles sleeping soundly in the bed next to me was the man who made that short, but very warming phone call.
***
“What do you mean you’re going on holiday?”
I winced as Richard barked down the phone at me; Richard was the worst out of them all.
“I’m going to California to visit a friend Richard; it’s only for a week.”
“Ava I wanted to book you for a night next week, I needed you to come to a party with me. Also I wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine. He’s interested in becoming a client.”
I sighed down the phone as I walked through the vintage shop in Camden; I was currently looking in desperate search for some new dresses for my trip when this phone call interrupted me.
“Richard I’ve told you before, it doesn’t work like that…”
“I know, I know but he’s a really nice guy and he has a Bettie Page calendar in his kitchen…”
“Richard just because he likes 50s pin ups doesn’t mean that I’m interested, the last guy you put me in contact with resulted in me spending two nights in hospital remember?”
“He was a jerk I know and I did make it worth your while…”
I sighed again as I left the shop, turning to walk through the cobbled food court in search of more stores to try and satisfy my needs.
“Richard, no matter how much money you pump into my account it doesn’t make up for the fact that you break the rules…”
“I know, I’m sorry…when do you get back anyway?”
“A week on Thursday”
“Can I book you in then?”
“Can’t it wait till Friday?” I asked exasperated at the man down the phone.
“Okay, great book me for then. Have a nice time then.”
“Bye Richard.”
I groaned and put the phone down, what a pain in the arse. It looks like I would have to come back and not just run of to the US like I hoped, I hate Richard, he was a loudmouth, arrogant pain in the arse.
I was getting to old for this.
Oh my...what a fantastic red dress.
I smiled at Charles over my wine. This man was my favourite, not only because he shared the first name of my favourite poet, but because Charles treated me differently from the others. To him I was human, with my own life, he didn’t care how pathetic it was, it was still my life and I was alive and trying to survive it. Charles had been with me for years, he sat there, in his expensive suite, smoking his expensive cigar and leaning back in the very expensive chair of the restaurant he had taken me to. His hair had been threatening to turn grey for years and now it seemed every thread had turned to a darkened silver whisper. Soft creases crinkled around his warm eyes in glee, he was a charmer, he was constantly looking at me in almost adoration.
“I have been very well Charles. What about yourself?”
He snorted a puff of smoke form his nostrils, frowning like an angry bull.
“Dreadful, I can’t tell you how long it has been since I had enjoyed some red wine with company that I actually feel affection for.”
I smiled, “How is the divorce going?”
He cackled loudly, his thick Eton accent piercing the noise erupting from his throat,
“Ah, marvellous, marvellous, I do tend to pick women who cannot battle it out properly in a courtroom. I think to myself when I’m at the alter now she…she has enough fire in her belly to put up a decent fight if this all goes to pot and yet they always seem to disappoint me.”
He sipped at his wine before continuing,
“Now Ava, you seem to have enough passion to take me on in the divorce courts, how do you feel about being the next Lady Winchester?”
I giggled, “No thank you Charles, I’m sure you’ll find wife number 6 around the next corner.”
The older man stubbed out his cigarette and leaned over the table to me,
“You seem different; did you have a life changing experience on the fair streets of Paris?”
God Charles knew me too well.
“What makes you think that?”
“You’re eyes are glossing over darling.”
I smiled into the gulp of my wine.
“Did you meet a magnificent French Lord out there in frog land?”
I frowned at him as he unwrapped another cigar, “Charles dear, there are no French Lords, there was a minor event called the French Revolution if you remember?”
“Oh yes, well history isn’t my forte.”
“That is demonstrated by the fact that you are going through your fifth divorce.”
Charles chuckled, “Tell me about him.”
I sighed and looked across the restaurant; the rain beat down heavily against the window, the night sky disrupted by the low shimmer of the street lamps outside.
“Charles I’m here to entertain you, not to talk about myself.”
He reached out a strong hand to mine and held it tightly, his nicotine stained fingers contrasting with my pale skin.
“Ava, darling, you entertain me by just sitting here, we have been friends for years and you still keep up this façade, talk to me. I enjoy it.”
“He’s American.” I smiled after a few moments silence.
“A yank? Hmmm, I would never have guessed, tell me more.”
“He’s a musician, a quite famous one at that.”
Charles rolled his eyes, “I would never have thought you would have fallen into this absurd and empty fascination with celebrity.”
“I didn’t know who he was.”
“That’s probably why he likes you.”
I jumped at the minor stabbing statement.
“Forget about it let’s talk of something else.”
“No Ava I want to hear who my darling has fell for, I’m sorry, what’s his name?”
“Billie Joe.”
“How redneck.”
“Charles.” I snapped, placing my drained wine glass down in front of me.
The man grinned at me, “I am teasing you… now Ava darling I’m sorry, I am just jealous that a yank musician has wooed you and all my years of trying has failed.”
I shook my head in amusement.
“Flattery is the devil’s tool Charles.”
“And a very useful one for getting beautiful women to enjoy the company of a withered old fool such as myself.” He smirked, “Now pass me the wine menu, we have a cause to celebrate if you have finally dealt your cards in this heartbreaking game of love…”
I was awakened that night by the annoying beeping of my cell phone. My eyes snapped open and I quickly jumped up to answer the call. My body shaking at the diagonal change of position and the voice I will soon hear down the other end of the line. Charles groaned in the bed next to me and I frowned, softly plodding along the carpet and into the bathroom.
“Hello?” I answered, perching myself on the edge of the marble bath.
“Ava! It’s me! Billie Joe!”
“Hi!” I giggled, a strong swell of emotion racing through me.
“How are you? Did you get back okay? We’ve only just landed. Tre threw up on the flight attendant. It was so funny I almost pissed myself.”
I chuckled; careful not to be too loud encase I woke Charles.
“I’m good it sounds like you had a fun flight.”
“Nah, it absolutely stunk of puke, but anyway Ava, I was ringing to ask you if you want to come and stay for a week soon. Like maybe next week? We will be home then.”
My heart thudded in my chest.
“I would love to but can I get back to you on that? I mean I’ll have to sort some stuff out.”
“Yeah sure, of course.”
“So, where are you?”
“Barcelona, it’s not that hot either which is rubbish.”
"Oh well, plenty of San Miguel for you to drink I’m sure.”
Billie chuckled, “Yeah that’s true… “
There was a pause and slight shuffling down the phone…
“Everyone says hi by the way…”
“Say hi back for me…”
“…OI! AVA SAYS BONJOUR!” Billie yelled down the phone making me jump in the cold bathroom.
“There ya go.” He giggled.
“Thanks, I’m sufficiently deaf too.”
We both chuckled, “Oh…okay…sorry Ava I have to go…I’ll ring you tomorrow okay?”
“Okay, Bye Billie Joe, have fun.”
“I will bye Ava.”
The phone went dead and I smiled as I silently made my way to the bed. I sneaked underneath the covers, phone still clutched in my palm.
I turned over, wishing that Charles sleeping soundly in the bed next to me was the man who made that short, but very warming phone call.
***
“What do you mean you’re going on holiday?”
I winced as Richard barked down the phone at me; Richard was the worst out of them all.
“I’m going to California to visit a friend Richard; it’s only for a week.”
“Ava I wanted to book you for a night next week, I needed you to come to a party with me. Also I wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine. He’s interested in becoming a client.”
I sighed down the phone as I walked through the vintage shop in Camden; I was currently looking in desperate search for some new dresses for my trip when this phone call interrupted me.
“Richard I’ve told you before, it doesn’t work like that…”
“I know, I know but he’s a really nice guy and he has a Bettie Page calendar in his kitchen…”
“Richard just because he likes 50s pin ups doesn’t mean that I’m interested, the last guy you put me in contact with resulted in me spending two nights in hospital remember?”
“He was a jerk I know and I did make it worth your while…”
I sighed again as I left the shop, turning to walk through the cobbled food court in search of more stores to try and satisfy my needs.
“Richard, no matter how much money you pump into my account it doesn’t make up for the fact that you break the rules…”
“I know, I’m sorry…when do you get back anyway?”
“A week on Thursday”
“Can I book you in then?”
“Can’t it wait till Friday?” I asked exasperated at the man down the phone.
“Okay, great book me for then. Have a nice time then.”
“Bye Richard.”
I groaned and put the phone down, what a pain in the arse. It looks like I would have to come back and not just run of to the US like I hoped, I hate Richard, he was a loudmouth, arrogant pain in the arse.
I was getting to old for this.
Oh my...what a fantastic red dress.