Meditating on his disastrous marriage was easier over a pint, the sharp edges of
anger just seem to blur a little. Why should he be angry ? He had little in common
with his ex-wife, they both fely a continued boredom in each others company. There
was no fun, no similar interests, no general rapport. They both married on a whim of
passion and romance. It lasted only eighteen months. She hoped his extroverted nature
would compensate for her introversion. He believed she would make him more thoughtful
and less restless. It worked for a while but soon she wanted to stay at home quietly to
read or do some dressmaking. He wanted to go out, anywhere. Travel, clubs, pubs and have some 'fun'.
Charles gazed at his empty glass as it sat forlornly on the sodden bar towel, soaked
by the careless reverie of other drinkers. They all seemed so happy, cheerful, nothing
emotional weighing on their shoulders.
"Another one mate?" The enthusiastic antipodean barman pointed at the glass.
"Yeah sure," Charles sighed.
"There you go mate, one-ninety, no worries. Cheer up mate might never happen!"
Charles smiled at the happy-go-lucky attitude of the Australian, he was like that once.
"This beer's got expensive," complained Charles as he hurridly dug into his trouser pocket.
"Strewth you're telling me, its only hops and water, probably only cost 10p to make, most
of the rest the bloody government takes in tax. What they do with that I'll never know !"
Charles smiled again and nodded agreement. His eyes followed the bar staff around the
bar as they served the drinks. Australians, New Zealanders and South Africans. Flaxen
haired without seemingly a care in the world, working their way around Europe. The men
look like they are ready for the Rugby field while the women wear very tight jeans or
trousers, all have the pub's sweatshirt with the logo 'Badger & Ferrett' emblazoned on
a green background. The girls' sweatshirts reveal nubile figures with firm breasts pointing
invitingly forward. Charles sighs again.
Another large gulp of the strong beer and Charles is gazing aimlessly around the pub.
Reproductions of Renoir, Monet and Degas adorn the walls. French impressionist paintings
in a pub called the 'Badger & Ferrett', what next ?
One particular painting close-by captures Charles attention. He looks at the title written
below. 'Le Moulin de la Galette' by Renoir. A sunday afternoon in late nineteenth century France.
People are dancing, talking and enjoying themselves in the sunshine.
The pungent smell of spilt beer and cigarette smoke seems to drift away to be replaced
by a warm smell of a summers' day, flowers, trees. Charles takes another swig of his beer and admires the picture.
Such happy people, how lucky.
A girl in a blue and white dress is seated, animately chatting to her friends. A period of
style and dress long gone, terminated by the First World War. Charles ponders further,
perhaps he should take some time to study fine art. Such a pretty girl in the picture. His
beer glass is emptying again. He can almost smell her perfume.
Her eyelids flicker, her attention is drawn towards him. I've drunk too much, thinks
Charles. She smiles and beckons him to come.
"Monsieur it eez always eezy to tell you Anglais, you dress so funny!"
The girl in the blue and white striped dress laughs and pats a chair in welcome next to her.
"Zay never wear such odd clothes in France!" Never mind I am learning to become an
Eengleesh teacher, please may you help me with my conversation?"
Charles has only schoolboy French.
"We help each other, errt Yes?" He replies suddenly aware that he is no longer in the pub
but 19th Century France ! He looks down at his beer but a glass of red wine has appeared
in his hand.
"Look at this moment my English needs to be better, so we talk, Oui?"
She is the most beautiful girl Charles has ever seen. Her brown hair has a 'Titan' red to it
which is caught by the sunlight giving her a regal glow.
"My name is Madeleine, and what is the name of such a good looking man?"
"Err-er Charles," he replies hesitatingly.
"Why you look so un'appy on such a beautiful day, everyone is dancing, smiling come drink
more wine."
By now Charles is so enchanted by Madeleine that he has forgotten about the pub and the
20th Century.
"I'm sorry, I am no longer with my wife and I did not expect to feel so lonely, it wasn't like this
before I married. I was carefree and enjoyed myself like these people around me," he apologised.
"Oh zay 'ave problems too. Today is a special day and we all shall forget such troubles, no?"
He sipped the exquisite red wine red wine, had he really been drinking beer ? Do not mix
the wheat with the grape they say, but the beer seemed just a distant memory.
"'Allo monsieur, are we dreaming?" The eyes of a goddess brought him up with a jolt. Such
smiling eyes.
"Come let us link arms and drink together, is romantic, no? We drink from the same cup of knowledge and we both be wise?"
"Your English is very good," Charles compliments her and his emotions,
mind body and self fall towards her.
"Maybe I am a good student, or maybe an angel," she laughs.
Charles is only aware now of Madaleine, it is not only her beauty, the smell of her perfume.
Time and space have stopped and he is instantly falling in love with this vision before him.
Conversation is so easy with her and the humour. She makes fun of some of the people
around them and Charles is convulsed with laughter.
"You see Madaleine make you smile, you forget your troubles, and are 'appy again yes?"
He bathes in the warm glow of the delicious smile and laughing eyes. Charles believes
he can hear the sound of a popular waltz as the people dance around him.
He feels a compelling pull of his heart strings towards this most radiant girl.
Madeleine leans forward and kisses him.
"And you monsieur are very 'andsome, we be friends, yes?"
The aroma and atmosphere of France pervades all around him. They embrace. Madeleine's
lips taste so sweet. The perfume is intoxicating. For the first time in his life he is in love.
Perhaps he has died and gone to heaven, for this moment is surely heavenly.
Charles looks at Madeleine, she smiles, her eyes twinkle with light. He drifts towards her.
Part of her.
"Eh mate, oi Bruce, you with us or a well known building society ? We've just called last
orders, do want another?" An impatient antipodean strummed his fingers on the bar.
"Beautiful, just beautiful," cooed Charles.
"Yeah nice picture and all that, do you want another ? You may have had too much." The
bony australian picked up three glasses between his fingers and charged off.
The barman returned again with another pint.
"There you go matey, that's strong stuff, may change your life." The barman thought he
noticed a tear in Charles eye. Charles dug into to his pocket again.
"No, that's alright mate, that one's on me," grinned the barman.
He watched Charles gaze lovingly at the picture and sensed something more.
"Nice looking 'sheila' , but take it from me they are all the same. They just aint worth
the hassle." The barman continued his philosphy of experience and advice.
"You meet a nice girl and the next minute they are gone forever, take it from me, I know."
The barman shook his head from personal memory.
"No worries mate, enjoy your beer, it's not worth it mate, not worth it!"
Charle's pint of beer stood foaming on the bar. He looked down at his lap, a single tear
coursed down his cheek.
"Ere mate you drinking wine as well, shouldn't mix it." He had seen the tear and suddenly
became self conscious and enbarrassed hoping to change the subject.
"Hey where did you get that glass, sure aint one of ours?" Said the barman.
He stood one hand resting on the bar, the other scratching his head.
Charles pondered the glass with a little wine left at the bottom. He rolled the stem
between his fingers until the words 'Fabrique en France' etched into the glass came
into view.
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