This is the ninth episode of my unreliable memoirs. Each episode can be read individually but it helps to have read the previous episodes starting from the beginning.
This episode is largely based on a painful episode from my youth. It's a bit longer than the other episodes so far and for those that enjoy a spoiler most of the sex is in the middle of this one. There's very little at the end as hopefully you'll understand why as you read further.
I hope you enjoy the stories.
M4bloke
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Ruth and David's was a hive of activity on Monday morning. Everyone assembled in the kitchen at 06.30 a.m. for a quick breakfast then it was time to make tracks. I walked Lesley to her car and gave her a hug and a kiss.
"I wish you were coming with me," I said.
"I wish I was too," Lesley replied.
"Have fun with Kate at the weekend. And Daniel."
"You know I will," she said. "So don't you feel guilty about whatever you get up to. You're my warrior remember."
"I love you," I told her.
"I love you too. So much. Will I see you on Sunday night?"
"I hope so. We should be back by then."
We kissed one more time then Lesley got in her car and drove off.
"Are you ready to go Steven?" Ruth shouted from the kitchen.
"Yep, got my passport, wallet and kitbag."
Ruth threw me the keys to the Triumph and said, "Great, you're driving then."
The little Triumph GT6 wasn't built for luggage and Ruth didn't travel light but we managed to squeeze it all in. Ruth had her soppy goodbye with David then we got in the car and set off. I felt a bit sorry for David, being left behind, but it was his choice not to fly I guess.
"Do you know where you're going?" asked Ruth.
"Actually I do," I said. "Birmingham airport isn't so far away from Uni and I picked a mate up from there recently."
"That's good..." said Ruth, "because I don't have a clue."
We'd had to fly from Birmingham because it was the closest airport with a scheduled flight to Paris. From Paris we could catch a connecting flight to Marseilles and from there we'd drive the rest of the way by hire car.
It took about two hours to drive to the airport. When we got to check in there was a queue but Ruth walked up to the Business Class desk and gave the lady our passports.
"Business Class, eh!" I said to Ruth.
She laughed and said jokingly, "My dear, haven't you flown business class before?"
"Ruth, I haven't been in a plane before."
"Oh." she said sounding a bit surprised then added, "You'll be fine... Assuming we don't crash that is."
We made our way through security and into the main lounge. Ruth wanted to buy a couple of magazines for the journey so we visited the newsagents on the way to the Business Class lounge. As we passed a shop selling holiday clothes Ruth asked, "Did you pack your swimming trunks and flip flops?"
"No. I didn't."
"You'll need them. It's not going to be all work," she said.
We went into the shop and I started to look at the surfer style shorts. Ruth however had other ideas and picked out a pair of ultra-brief Speedo swimming trunks.
"I'm not entering the Olympics Ruth," I said.
"No, but I'd still like to see you in them."
"You're the boss."
The business class lounge was quiet. The morning rush of suits off to do business in foreign lands had already taken place and most of the people in the airport now seemed to be holiday makers waiting for chartered flights. A lady served Ruth a glass of champagne but it seemed to me too early to be drinking so I had a coffee and a bacon sandwich instead.
When our flight was called we made our way to the departure gate and boarded the plane. As it taxied toward the runway Ruth took my hand and held on to it tightly until well after we were airborne.
The flight only took an hour and a bit and before we knew it we were landing in Paris. In my ignorance I thought that we were going to have to collect our bags but Ruth assured me that they would be transferred automatically to the next flight. We had two hours to kill and so we found a restaurant in the terminal to have lunch. It sounds dumb but I hadn't really counted on everyone speaking French. Nowadays everyone speaks English it seems but back then it wasn't the case. Fortunately Ruth spoke French like a local.
"Where did you learn to speak French?" I asked.
"I did Modern Languages at University," she said.
"I didn't know that."
"I've always loved France and the French way of life, that's why I'm so happy to be moving here."
"How does David feel about it?"
"It's taken a long time to persuade him but he's ready. Times are changing. Lesley is going to be with you now and I think he's ready for a new chapter. I just wish I could get him to overcome his fear of flying. It would make things so much easier," she said.
The flight to Marseilles was about the same length as the previous one had been. When we hit turbulence, Ruth grabbed my hand tightly again and held onto me until it had passed. Other than that the flight was fine and we were soon standing in Marseilles airport and waiting for our luggage. It seemed to take an eternity before our bags eventually trundled out onto the conveyor and then we made our way to the rental car sector. The car they gave us was a newish VW Golf that already had a couple of dents in it. Ruth suggested that she drove since I'd never driven on the wrong side of the road before or in a car that had the steering wheel on the left hand side.
We drove north out of Marseilles on the "Route du Soleil". Next week this whole area would be jam packed with French holiday makers when the August holiday season started but this week it was still relatively quiet. We left the autoroute at Cavaillon and continued cross country to a pretty hilltop town called Gordes. Ruth seemed to know where she was going and there was no need for me to navigate.
Eventually we pulled up at a spa hotel just a few miles out of the village. Ruth parked up the car and I was going to carry her bags into reception but a bellboy came out with a trolley and picked them up for us. When we walked into the reception the receptionist greeted Ruth like a long lost friend and then said in English, "We didn't expect to see you so soon again, Madame."
"No, I didn't either but I have some papers to sign in Avignon."
"Anyway, we have your room ready for you. Please come this way."
I went to pick up my bag but the receptionist said, "Please monsieur. We will bring the bags to your room." I must have looked like a right country bumpkin to her. She walked out of the reception and led us to a small cluster of rooms that overlooked the pool. "This is your room Madame, near the pool as you requested." The receptionist opened the door and showed us into the apartment which consisted of a lounge area and a separate bedroom. It was a good size, nicely furnished, with a patio outside that led onto the pool
"Will you be dining with us this evening?"