John, 54 years old, six-foot, thinning grey hair, and large frame and typical sagging gut had finally booked the motorcycle tour he had always promised himself. He had to do it now as time was certainly running out after the hospital had confirmed stage three prostate cancer.
Returning to France the tour taking in Rouen, Le Mans, and over to the Vendee coast at Saint Gille Croix-de-Vie for some sea and sand. A journey he had made many times retracing memories on his trusted Blue Honda Goldwing.
The first leg to cross at Folkstone via the Chunnel then down the A16 stopping at the Bay du Somme for a welcome break. The weather warm but thankfully not too hot as he is encased in full leathers, just in case the worse happens. His mind flashing back 20 years, a younger man, excited to visit France taking in the sunflower fields, cafes, and along quiet roads.
Fuelled back up feeling refreshed thinking,
'To find this bloody Hotel in Rouen, always a Bain on previous excursions.'
There on that first excursion, he experienced a brief passion still so vivid in his mind.
The traffic-free flow his mood good and the wonders of wonders find the hotel without much trouble.
'There is a god.'
He wistfully thinks.
Easing off the bike patting the saddle.
"Good girl some rest for you now," He whispers.
Looking across the car park his eyes mist remembering of the first time there, the young receptionist.
'That was 20 years ago. She must be married now kids and all.'
The thought about it making him smile.
Taking out his overnight bag from the panier and meander into the reception. A hectic mix of parents looking strained from the long day of travel, children bouncing around having been cooped up all day. A rather pompous French businessman is lecturing the poor young girl on reception about how important his wakeup call in the morning is. She smiles sweetly at him, John's heart misses a beat the face so familiar, it cannot be!
Michelle a small chubby girl with green eyes golden tanned skin, flame-red hair held back in a ponytail, sporting a cream mono heart curved collar blouse with three quarter length sleeves and a black mini skirt with matching black tights and patent leather court shoes.
Lost in his memories for a moment then snapping quickly out.
"Bonjour Monsieur Avez-vous une réservation de chamber," Michelle efficiently asks.
"Bonjour Mademoiselle oui," smiling at the face so strangely familiar.
"Votre nom s'il vous plait."
"John Longstaff.," John wearily replies.
"You are English, ne pas?"
"Yes, does it show that?"
"No, your French is particularly good, but your name gives the game away."
She looks down at her list. Glances back up.
"Been here before?" she asks.
"Yes 20 years ago," John says dreamily.
John's thoughts drifting back in time.
Her eyes widen and her face flushes. John looks quizzically. Michelle quickly glances down. Her thoughts racing,
'Her mother talked in her sleep of an English gent she met. Could this be her father she never knew?'
Inhaling deeply her body tingling.
"Something wrong?"
"No...no," Michelle says
Shaking her head unable to lookup. Quickly placing a registration card on the desk.
"Please fill in your details. Your room is 101, which is on the first floor go the left as you exit the lift," she blurts out.
Completing the slip John frowns.
"Thank you, you look strangely familiar," John comments.
