Not The Best Way to Start a Week
Thanks again to Jas betaing and Brenda for everything. ( and, I suppose, to
whoever owns them for letting me play )
Richie was back in his favourite spot on the barge looking out over the
water. This time, however his mood was closer to anger than depression.
Anger at Mac and Tessa and the gallery owner and his blasted son and the
world generally. And himself. In particular, he was furious with himself.
Partly because of the weekend but mostly over what had happened afterwards.
He couldn't believe that he had just wailed like a baby over a few slaps to
his ass. And remembering the way he had clung to Mac, sobbing into his
shoulder
'Just kill me now', he thought, as a new wave of embarrassment washed over
him.
"Come on Rich, we've things to do"
Richie leapt a foot in the air nearly pitching forward into the river and
was saved only by the Highlander grabbing the back of his jacket.
"Can't you give a guy some warning?" He wailed "You nearly scared me to
death."
"Or drowned you." Duncan grinned. "Come on."
"Where to?" Richie was so caught up with feeling sorry for himself, he'd
forgotten the cause of the problem.
"The car, Remember? And Tessa. We have to go pick up the car and meet
Tessa." Duncan replied, speaking slowly as if to an idiot, his grin widening
by the moment. " And we have another appointment too."
Richie had forgotten the other person that was likely to have something to
say about his weekend's activities
"Oh shit. Tessa!" Richie dropped his head into his hands again. Then, the
thought of how much Tessa was likely to have to say and how loudly she was
likely to say it struck him and his instincts for self preservation cut in;
the motor mouth going full speed.
"No way Mac. I mean...Just ..No way.. She's gonna kill me.. She'll take what
you left and just... like annihilate. Look.. Be serious. ...I mean.. Just
think.. Do you really want all that trouble in the middle of Paris? I
mean..Think of the noise. Think of the blood! I'll just stay here nice and
quiet and you go get the lady. Then you can, like, just throw the body in
the river when she's finished. No fuss. No muss."
As he spoke he was moving slowly towards the doorway, hoping to reach the
comparative safety of the inside before Duncan could process his words. A
vain hope. Duncan read his intention and stepped into his path, arms
crossed, grinning down at him.
"And what other appointment?" Duncan's comment had finally penetrated.
"We're going to pick up the car and meet Tessa and then we are joining M
Caradec and his son for dinner." Duncan mentally counted, waiting for
realisation to hit. 1..2...3...
"Caradec?....Caradec? The gallery guy? No way Mac. Like no way. Have you
gone raving mad? There is no way that man wants me anywhere near him or his
son like, ever!" In his panic, Richie started backing away again, forgetting
he was on a boat, and had to be rescued once again before he went over the
side.
This time, however, Duncan kept hold of the jacket and walked him off the
barge before letting go.
"Come on ToughGuy. I've just spoken to Tessa. They're expecting us. It was
his invitation."
"What?" Richie stopped dead.
"It seems he feels that you are not entirely to blame for the incident in
the café." Duncan told him, giving him a shove to get him moving again.
"Why?" Richie asked, still not going anywhere
"Because he was so stuck by your blinding repartee that he can't wait to
further his acquaintance with you?"
"Come on Mac. This is serious. He's crazy. Mac please, I'm begging here.
Don't make me do this."
"Richie this is not open to negotiation. At the very least you owe the man
an apology for dragging him out to rescue his son like that and you
certainly owe it to Tessa to at least try and make amends!" Duncan had
finally had enough. " Now are you coming or shall we go back to the barge
and discuss this some more?" He threatened.
"I'm coming, I'm coming" Duncan turned and headed off down the bank. Richie
trailed behind muttering "Yes oh lord and master. Anything you say oh lord
and master."
In truth, he could see Duncan's point but the reference to the trouble this
business had caused Tessa was unfortunate. Richie was still deeply
embarrassed by everything that had happened and so bitterly resented what he
felt was Duncan rubbing it in.
As they headed into town Duncan initially tried to cheer him up; teasing him
about the whereabouts of the car but, getting nothing but grunts and snarls
in response, soon gave up. He left Richie to get over his sulk on his own,
comforting himself with the thought that the kid could rarely hold onto a
bad mood for long. He was basically too cheerful a person for that.
But not, unfortunately today. The fact that Duncan led them straight back to
the café square somehow just added to Richie's bad temper. Mr Perfect does
it again, he thought. Obviously Tessa had passed on the information from M
Caradec and Richie knew that perfectly well but he was too busy building up
his resentment to really think it through.
As Duncan checked over his car a large familiar car pulled up and M Caradec
and Tessa emerged. Pausing briefly to embrace Tessa, Duncan headed over to
talk to M Caradec leaving Richie to Tessa.
"Are you all right? Let me look at you. What did you think you were doing?"
she asked whilst turning his chin this way and that, checking for damage.
"Lemme go. I'm fine." The mothering did nothing to improve Richie's mood and
he pulled away angrily. "You don't have to go on about it. Mac's said and
done everything already. Can't we just let it drop?"
Tessa stepped back in surprise. She'd expected wisecracking, outrageous
excuses and an attempt to sweet talk himself back into her good graces, not
a temper tantrum. Her own temper rose in response and she regarded him
icily.
"Well I certainly hope so and I hope you can make your apologies to Jacques
with more grace than you seem to want to show me."
With that she turned and followed the men into the café leaving Richie to
trail after her feeling smaller than ever.
Things settled down better once he was inside. He managed a credible apology
to M Caradec and the café owner, who turned out to be his sister - that
explained a lot Richie thought- and even Tessa thawed out once she'd settled
down in the circle of Duncan's arms. A surprisingly pleasant evening seemed
on the cards. Both Caradecs turned out to be very nice people; very willing
to amuse and be amused by the brash teenager. Madame in particular took him
to her heart when a chance reference of Duncan's to Richie's perpetual
hunger and difficulties with French food sent her clucking into the kitchen
with promises that his dinner tonight would be all he could desire.
Life was good. His friends had forgiven him, the gallery owner not only didn
't look down on him, he was even listening to Richie's suggestions on
security at the gallery - given from his unique point of view of course and
he was looking forward to Marie's excellent dinner.
Richie was well on the way to forgetting all about the weekend's events when
Philippe Caradec arrived. He had definitely not forgotten. Nor was he in any
doubt about who was to blame for the whole incident. As their eyes met, all
Richie's resentment came flooding back and the two boys glowered at each
other across the table. The atmosphere changed completely. Battle lines were
drawn; they were just waiting to see who would fire the first shot.
It came over dinner and then everything went downhill from there. The
good-natured bantering suddenly became barbered and the discussions on
security at the gallery acquired a condescending edge that had been absent
before. Richie retaliated with several swift knocks of his own against the
privileged rich and all chance of a pleasant, civilised meal went out the
window. Whilst Richie didn't actually instigate any attacks, he instantly
retaliated to anything that could even remotely be considered a challenge
either to him personally, his friends or his nationality; apparently
oblivious to any discrete signals from either Duncan or Tessa to behave
himself. Dinner became hideous.
The exchanges continuing throughout the evening until Duncan was ready to
knock their heads together. So apparently was Marie. As they finished, she
announced that the café was short staffed and her assistant had to leave
early so would the 'children' kindly assist by finishing the washing up thus
enabling her to enjoy some time with her guests.
Philippe instantly started to protest but, with the entire table against
him, there was little he could be but trail off with Richie, who had at
least retained enough good manners not to argue - or not after Tessa kicked
him under the table anyway - leaving the adults to discuss the horror of
teenagers the world over.
As soon as the door shut Philippe turned on Richie
"See what you've done. Wasn't last night enough? You had to come back for
another go today?"
"Now hang on a minute." Richie had also had enough "It was your old man that
insisted we come tonight and it was your nasty little gibes that got us
stuck in here. Don't go blaming me. Now let's just get on with it so we can
get out of here."
Richie headed for the sink and the mountain of dirty plates stacked there
but then stopped when the French boy didn't follow him.
"Well come on then."
"You're obviously the more experienced at such work. Why don't you do it?"
Richie was about to hurl himself on the objectionable boy when the door
opened and Marie came in with the final plates. Under her steely gaze they
quickly sorted themselves out and started work. However, as she left, the
argument instantly sprung up again and carried on as they worked but it was
necessarily low key as she made a point of wandering in and out throughout.
Then, finally, she directed Richie to put away the last of the crockery and
Philippe to mop the floor before thanking them both for their help and,
leaving them to finish off, heading back into the café.
Just as she sat down there was an all-mighty crash from the kitchen followed
by shouts and another bang. En mass they headed in to find the boys
grappling on the floor, soaking wet from the overturned bucket, with broken
china all around.
Duncan waded in, grabbing both boys by the scruff of their necks, and
hauling them to their feet.
"What the hell do you think you are doing?" he asked. "What happened?" Then,
when neither boy appeared willing to answer, he shook them like a terrier
and then asked again "Well?"
"He tripped." said Philippe.
"He tripped me" responded Richie instantly. "He rammed that mop between my
feet as I was carrying that stack of plates and deliberately tripped me up."
"It was an accident" Said Philippe sullenly as he saw not just Duncan but
his father and aunt glaring at him.
But Duncan was still more concerned with Richie. "So I suppose you hit him
again?"
Richie declined to answer, scuffing his toes on the floor and looking
anywhere but at the irate Highlander.
"We'll talk about this more when we get home," said Duncan finally and then
turned towards their hosts to make his apologies.
"You can't possibly take him home like that. He's soaking wet. He'll catch
his death of cold". Marie interjected. "They both will. Go on, upstairs the
pair of you. I'll find you something to wear while I get your clothes dry."
And she was gone, driving both boys ahead of her.
Turning to Duncan and Tessa, M Caradec said formally " I can't tell you how
sorry I am for my son's behaviour. We are now going to have a talk that will
ensure he never, ever behaves like this again" and then, without waiting for
a response, he followed his son up the stairs leaving Duncan and Tessa
standing in the middle of the kitchen wondering what to do next.
As they stood staring at each other Marie returned with a pile of jeans and
tee-shirts which she promptly dumped into the tumble dryer. Then, handing
Duncan an oval, tortoiseshell backed hairbrush, she smiled sweetly saying.
"You'll find your young friend in the front room if you want to go and talk
to him while his clothes are drying."
Duncan looked at the French women for a moment, then at the brush in his
hand, then back at Marie again before returning her smile and saying "Thank
you I will." Then he too headed for the door.
Walking up the stairs, Duncan could hear a heated discussion coming from a
back room on the first landing. As he turned the corner it culminated in a
cry of "No Papa. Please!" followed by a sharp slapping noise; perhaps the
sound of a slipper striking bare skin and then a cry of pain.
Stopping briefly to listen, Duncan grinned as the sounds quickly merged
together; the slipper providing the background rhythm to a chorus of yells
and cries and the occasional pleading "Papa!" Then, gripping the hairbrush
firmly, he carried on down the hall to make some music of his own.
Richie was wearing only his boxers and an old robe belonging to goodness
knows who and was rapidly pacing the floor, trying desperately to work out
what on earth had got into him and where it was all going to end. The whole
evening felt like a terrible nightmare that he just wasn't able to wake up
from.
Chasing them both upstairs, Marie had driven him into the front room and
then swiftly stripped him of his soaked clothes, regardless of his frantic
protestations of age and modesty. Handing him the robe from the back of the
door she had promised to send Duncan up to keep him company while his
clothes dried.
This had sounded vaguely like a threat and had done nothing to reassure him.
Remembering the look on the Highlander's face when he'd last seem him,
Richie had not been at all keen to spend any time alone with him just now.
And that was before the discussion down the hall got going.
Once he realised where that was going there was no way that he wanted Mac
anywhere near him. Goodness knows what ideas he'd get from it. Richie was
feeling way too vulnerable just now to deal with an irate Highlander
wearing, as he was, little more than a pair of shorts.
Hearing the door open he turned, hoping to see Marie with his clothes.
Instead he came face to face with the one person he really didn't want to
see.
"Er.. Hi Mac"
"Hello Richie." The man was entirely too calm.
"Marie said my clothes would be a while. I don't want to keep you guys
hanging around. Why don't you take off now and I'll meet you back at the
barge later?"
"Nice try Richie but Tessa and I don't mind waiting for you. We're in no
hurry. Anyway, it gives us plenty of time to talk about the way this evening
went don't you think?"
As he spoke, Duncan was slowly advancing on a very nervous Richie. The boy
retreated, babbling franticly.
"Let's just forget about tonight. It was a mistake from the word go. It was
never going to work. The whole idea was doomed to failure from the start,
should never even have been considered. But, don't worry, I won't hold it
against you. You were only trying to help. We'll just pretend it never
happened."
"I'm sorry Rich but we can't do that." Richie's retreat had now been cut off
by the dressing table and the big man was looming over him. "Though I am
pleased you won't hold my attempts to help you against me."
Duncan reached out to grab his arm and Richie saw what was in his hand for
the first time. Too late to do anything about it, he was swiftly pulled
across Duncan's lap as the man sat down on the dressing table stool.
"Mac No! What are you playing at?"
"I was about to ask you the same question." Duncan replied, holding onto the
struggling boy and catching his hand to hold it in the small of his back
when it tried to cover his bottom.
"You know damn well there is no way I am going to ignore something like
this. What on earth got into you? I don't care what provocation you
received. Whatever happened, you know better than that."
"Mac...I'm sorry"
"Yes, but that doesn't change anything. Does it? I told you earlier on that
we wouldn't accept this sort of behaviour. Maybe I didn't drive the lesson
home hard enough." And, so saying, he swiftly pulled down the boy's shorts
and landed the first of many hard smacks on the bared bottom with the back
of the hairbrush.
Richie's wail of outrage at losing his shorts swiftly changed to one of pain
at the force of the blows. He'd thought the Highlander meant business before
but that was noting compared to what was now happening. Duncan really meant
it. Richie would let go like that again at his own peril!
Initially Richie tried to stifle his cries and keep quiet, remembering how
clearly he'd heard what was happening down the hall, but then the pain and
indignity proved too much and he was soon yelling and pleading as loudly as
the French boy.
Downstairs in the kitchen, Tessa and Marie had just finished clearing up the
broken china when the noise started. Looking concerned, Tessa headed for the
door only to be stopped by Marie.
"No. They mustn't. It isn't right."
"You leave them be. They're doing exactly as they should."
"But no. Duncan..Richie...He's 18. That's much too old to..."
"To old to spank? No dear, certainly not. When almost grown young men
suddenly start behaving like naughty little boys it's a sure sign that they
are feeling insecure and need reassurance that there is still someone there
for them."
"So that's what there are doing?" Tessa asked incredulously. "Providing
reassurance?"
"Well....That and expressing their opinion of the hideous evening the pair
of them inflicted on us with their antics."
Later, as they sat drinking coffee and chatting, the door opened and Duncan
and Jacques came in followed by two incredibly sheepish looking boys, both
now fully dressed in dry clothes.
Tessa jumped up and ran to Richie, hugging him and then holding him out at
arms length; checking for damage.
"Richie. Are you all right?"
With a swift look at Duncan, Richie, responded, returning her hug, "Yeah. I
'm fine Tess. Look. I'm really sorry about tonight. I just don't know what
happened....I'm sorry I.. Er....." He looked anxiously from one to the
other, unsure how to continue.
"Its OK ToughGuy. It's over" answered Duncan, just as Tessa said, "It's all
right. Don't worry."
Richie then turned towards the Caradecs offering them an apology too. This
was duly accepted with Marie patting his cheek and telling him not to worry
and Jacques putting a hand on his shoulder and reassuring him that,
everything was now paid for and would be put behind them.
Then, surprisingly, Philippe stepped forward offering his hand.
"I'm sorry too. This was all my fault. I'd like to call a truce if you're
willing." Adding, whilst rubbing his backside and casting a rueful look at
his father "I'm not sure I can take much more if we don't."
Richie laughed. "Me neither." He said, with a similar look at Duncan.
"Truce." They shook hands.
"Anyway, there's something you mentioned earlier I was wondering if you
could show me." Philippe asked Richie hopefully.
"Sure. What?"
"I'm not sure how you say it. To start cars without using the key."
"Hotwiring? Of course my friend. Come right this way." Richie threw an arm
around his new friend, leading him out of the shop leaving Jacques looking
dumbstruck, Duncan horrified and the two women laughing themselves silly
"I have a feeling we're going to bitterly regret getting that pair together"
said Marie when she could finally speak again.
End