(Copyright 2001. All rights reserved).
All events and characters are fictitious.
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The opening notes of Beethoven's fifth symphony came from the shoulder bag on the floor of the BMW beneath Natasha's legs.
"Will you get it for me please, Frankie?" She asked Francine, sitting in the front passenger seat next to her.
Francine fumbled in the bag for a few seconds then straightened up holding Natasha's mobile phone.
"Hallo." She said into it.
She listened for a few seconds then she spoke a few words in French in reply to some question then listened again. She thanked her caller, in French, then handed the phone to Laurie.
"It's the police in Calais." She said. "They have recovered your bag. They suggest that if you have made any arrangements with your Embassy in Paris that you cancel them as you can collect your bag from them and it appears all your passports, etceteras are safe."
"That's a fucking relief." Laurie said, dialling a number from the page in her notebook that Taylor held before her.
Natasha looked ahead to the next signpost. Ten minutes to the next junction then a change of lanes. If she remembered her geography she was about a quarter of the way to Paris. Three quarters of an hour, perhaps less, back to Calais. Half an hour with the police then they would be free to head for Amsterdam. It should take about three hours from Calais. It was going to be a long-days driving. She thought of asking one of the others if they would like to take over for a bit but she knew she shouldn't. Her fathers insurance only covered drivers over twenty-one years of age.
She smiled as she recalled the scene the previous morning after she had suggested to her mother that she would really need a more reliable car for this journey than her little Renault. From the wail of anguish that had gone up from her father when he had been told his favourite daughter was borrowing his car for two days you'd have thought he'd been asked to give one of his bodies organs.
Her mother had whispered something into his ear at the breakfast table and he'd cheered up almost immediately. They had stood in the doorway, an arm around each other's waists, waving goodbye as she had driven out of the short drive and along the lane to the pub to pick up Frankie. More goodbyes and be good's from her parents and they had been off.
They were safely in the London flat by lunchtime and had spent the afternoon shopping. In the evening they had seen a film in Leicester Square and stopped off for supper in the Restaurant at the end of the road leading to the flats.
They had left the flat at seven that morning to catch the tunnel train at nine. Yes, it was going to be a long day.
The next junction was approaching and she moved onto the cloverleaf and back onto the North-eastern bound carriageway.
She lifted and lowered her shoulders to ease the tension she could feel building in them and set the car to cruise just above the maximum speed limit.
"What are your plans for after the concert again?" Natasha asked over her shoulder to the three Americans in general.
"We need to find a hotel or guest house for the night then we were going to decide whether to go to England or head slowly south through Germany." Amanda replied. "We have ten days to make it back to Rome for our flights."
"What a great way to spend a holiday." Francine said wistfully.
"What?" Taylor asked.
"She means vacation." Laurie translated.
"They don't half talk funny." Taylor said, imitating a Dick Van Dyke cockney.
"I don't sound anything like that." Frankie indignantly replied.
"Calm down." Nat said soothingly. "They sound as strange to us as we do to them I expect."
"When we get to Amsterdam we will have a couple of hours before the concert starts so if we all go to our hotel I see if they can fix you up with some rooms." Nat continued, over her shoulder.
"Wow. That's real nice of you." Laurie said, looking at the other two.
"It's a really nice hotel." Nat said. "I was there for the opening at Easter. My parents have been friends with the owners for years. They're from America. They're called the Wolfensteins. They own hotels all around the world."
"Yeah." Laurie said. "I stayed the night in one in Dallas. Your mother has as well."
She directed the last comment to Taylor.
"Oh yeah." Taylor replied. "Mishy said they had a great time."
"Who's Mishy?" Frankie asked.
"That's my sister Michelle." Laurie answered. "She knows Natasha's parents as well."
"Call me Nat. Everybody else does, apart from my parents."
"Okay."
The CD in the boot changed to her brother's band's latest album, she had a pre-issue demo tape. Nat listened intently to the keyboard player. He sounded different somehow to Geordie. Perhaps Geordie was getting better. He'd had no formal training and played everything by ear. Or, as Dave insisted, made it up as he went along. The same song never sounded the same twice when they played live. The second track came on. This was the Geordie on keyboards she knew. There had been talk in the papers that he hadn't been well when they had recorded that album and that they had used a session musician on some of the tracks. She quite liked Geordie. He was different to the others. She always felt safe with him.
Really, she felt safe with them all. Apart from the little matter of her virginity they had always treated her like a little sister. She knew all the lyrics and every note to every song they had ever recorded and some they hadn't. They had let her join in their rehearsals when they had visited her home when her parents were away. Sometimes on their piano and sometimes on Geordie's keyboards if he wasn't there. In fact, now she thought about it, he hadn't been there a lot of the time.
The other girls were singing along to the single recently released from the CD. She smiled and joined in. Frankie next to her had her hands above her head and was swaying from side to side. She glanced in her mirror and could see the others were doing the same.
Her brother's band was very good. They had changed from the roughness of their teens into a quite sophisticated outfit. It was a pity Dave had never finished college but they had been given the opportunity to make it and in that business you seldom get two bites at the cherry. She thought of her father and how he must have cursed himself. If he hadn't pulled some strings and called in a few favours they would never had had their first break and Dave would probably gone back to college.
They breasted a rise and could see the busy port of Calais below them.
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