Loire Valley, France
Tuesday 1st February 1994
Once Krang had gone to work for the day, Chrissie decided to make herself known to Grenn and after checking that Marie Claire was happy to look after the children for a couple of hours, she had him take her into the village. It seemed ridiculous to take a shuttle for such a short trip but Krang had been very insistent that she went nowhere without a guard and after her previous experience in the village, she was not inclined to argue with him. She wanted to visit some of the shops, but her first port of call was the school where she asked to speak with the head teacher.
She was not kept waiting for long. In a village as small as Saint Philip sur Loire, gossip spread quickly and everyone in the school knew about the woman and children living with the Klingon at the old farmhouse. As soon as the head teacher learned who was waiting to see him, he dropped everything and had his secretary show her in.
"Bonjour Monsieur," she said with a friendly smile, holding out her hand. "Je suis Madame Martinez."
"Enchanté madame." He took her hand and shook it before continuing in beautifully accented English. "I am Monsieur Lavigne, the head teacher here. What may I do for you?"
"I have two young children," Chrissie told him. "My son, Antonio, who is about to turn six, and my daughter Josefina, who is four. I would like to enrol them in your school."
"That is easily arranged," he told her. "What education do they have?"
"They are home taught," she responded. "They speak English and Spanish fluently and are making good progress in learning French although they haven't learned to read and write that language yet." They were also learning Klingon, but she did not say that. Instead, she moved on to their abilities in mathematics and other core subjects which were not as good as they could be, before finishing ruefully that they had a somewhat better than average knowledge of botany and horticulture.
That had made him laugh. "Not such a bad thing in a wine growing region like this. Your children are very young; I think they will catch up quickly and language will not be a barrier for long. Now, let me tell you a little about our school and the education system here in France…"
"Forgive me for asking," Chrissie said, as she listened to his explanation, "but as you are aware, my situation is a little… unusual. Can I be assured that my children will be safe here?"
The teacher was quick to reassure her. "In this school, yes indeed, Madame. Le Seigneur Krang has lived amongst us for almost two years now and has become a much-respected member of the community. With the exception of the recent… ahem… unfortunate incident, there has been no trouble, nor is there any resistance activity in the area. He hesitated before adding, "I cannot be so sure of the secondary school in Orleans, but that is some years away and there is time to consider what must be done."
Chrissie was quiet for a moment as she considered the information that he'd given her. While Krang was seriously considering the idea of renewing his contract and staying longer on Earth, it would not be for more than a couple of years. By the time her children were old enough to go to secondary school, it was likely they would be living on another planet. "As you say, we have several years to address that issue" she conceded. "May I assume then, that you are willing to take the children?"
"I see no reason why they should not start school immediately," he said thoughtfully. "Tomorrow is a half day; it would be an ideal opportunity to see how they get on."
"Tomorrow morning then," Chrissie agreed. "Merci beaucoup, Monsieur Lavigne."
London
Wednesday 2nd February 1994
With the children safely in their classes for the morning, Chrissie decided that her next priority was to have Grenn take her to London so she could sort out her banking issues and do some shopping. She had been relieved to find that any fears she'd had about her little ones starting school had been unfounded. Their initial tears had dried up like magic once they'd realised that Marie Claire's grandsons would be there and they'd gone running into the schoolyard without a backward glance.
Not completely sure how to behave with Grenn, since she had never had servants or needed to be guarded, she ended up chatting to him as though he were simply a friend… and indeed, she thought, Grenn had more than proved himself; he did not deserve any less than her respect and friendship. He was not as taciturn and frightening as she had first thought and once she got used to the natural Klingon directness that to Terran ears seemed rude and arrogant, Chrissie found him very easy to get on with. Their respective families gave them something in common. He'd married young, he told her, to a girl who lived in the same village and they had two children, both sons, who were just a little younger than Chrissie's children.
"You must miss them a lot," she said with sympathy. "You've been away from home for a long time."
He shrugged, once again surprised by her concern. "I do what I must to provide for them." Turning his attention back to the controls, he brought the shuttle down at the required location.
Disembarking from the shuttle only to find the bank closed, Chrissie belatedly remembered the time difference between England and France - and honestly, what a stupid thing for her to have forgotten! It was, she discovered, not quite 8am in London and she had just over an hour until the shops opened.
Once again, Grenn came to the rescue. "The Neutral Zone will be open," he suggested. "Perhaps you could go there for breakfast."
"That's a good idea," she conceded, laughing. "As long as I don't have to eat gagh."
Grenn had heard about that incident from Grapok but thought it wise not to comment. Instead, he fired up the engines for the very short journey across London, setting down again in the road outside The Neutral Zone.
The shuttle that had been allocated for Chrissie's use was not as large as Krang's and Grenn had explained to her that it was a short-range personal transport vessel, which unlike Krang's, did not have warp capability. Since Chrissie was not completely sure what that meant, she accepted his explanation without argument. Despite its smaller size, it still took up a significant portion of the road outside The Neutral Zone, something that did not bother her pilot in the slightest.
As they approached the entrance, the door swung open and a bunch of Klingon soldiers spilled out of the restaurant, talking loudly and exuberantly amongst themselves. Reacting quickly, Grenn pulled Chrissie back out of their way, growling a warning to anyone who came too close. A couple of them stopped and had a brief conversation with Grenn, whom they obviously knew well. From their glances and their use of the word joH, which Chrissie knew meant lord, and then a moment later, tera'ngan, she was uncomfortably certain they were talking about her. Despite Grenn's presence, she felt increasingly nervous – the last time she'd been surrounded by this many Klingons, she'd been abducted and tortured and it was only his obvious lack of concern that prevented her from panicking.
As soon as the group had departed, Grenn opened the door and ushered Chrissie inside. Busy clearing up the tables, the waitress turned, the jangle of the bell above the door alerting her to their presence. Maggie frowned; the sign on the door, written in both English and Klingon, made it clear that breakfast finished at 8am and it was now almost five past. They were now closed for business. "I'm sorry," she started to say, "we are clo…"
"We will be happy to serve you." Intending to help Maggie clean up the mess, Grapok had come out of the kitchen and recognising the newcomers, acted swiftly to prevent her from sending them away. There was no way he was going to refuse service to this woman.
Chrissie noticed the annoyed look the other woman gave the chef. "I'm sorry," she apologised, glancing towards Grenn. "I didn't realise you were closing. I don't want to put you to any trouble."
Seeing her sincerity, the waitress relaxed a little. "Don't worry, it's fine." She gestured towards a nearby table. "Sit yourself down and I'll take your order in a moment."
Chrissie obeyed, settling herself at the indicated table. As she did so, Grenn moved to the bar, making himself comfortable on one of the high stools at the bar and angling himself so he could keep an eye on the restaurant and its entrance. Chrissie regretted that but did not protest, realising that, however uncomfortable she was with the idea of being guarded, he did have a job to do.
The waitress took a little notepad out from her pocket. "Now… what can I get you to eat?"
Trying to decide what to order, Chrissie found that the idea of Klingon food or even bacon, was causing her stomach to churn. "I don't know," she said uncertainly. "Just something light."
"I've got a supply of croissants in the kitchen," Maggie suggested, noting with a little concern how pale the other woman looked but deciding not to comment on that. "Or we can do you some eggs – scrambled or poached on toast?"
Considering her options, Chrissie was pleased to see that her stomach seemed happy with that suggestion. "Lightly poached eggs would be wonderful. And a croissant with butter and jam. And a pot of tea. That's one thing I really miss living in France."
Making a note of the order, Maggie disappeared into the kitchen where the chef was waiting for her. "So, what was that all about?" she demanded. "We are supposed to be closed now, haven't we got enough to do getting ready for the lunchtime shift?"
The chef shook his head. "For that one, we are always open. She is the mate of my boss and I owe him everything." He took the order from her and studied it before adding, "Do you not remember they came in to eat last week?"
"Oh." Putting some teabags in a pot and adding boiling water, Maggie thought back to that night, remembering how Grapok had both been stressed and excited by their presence, and then nodded. "Yes, I do remember. I thought I'd seen her somewhere before. I was busy that night and you served them yourself."
"I would not dishonour him with anything less," Grapok said seriously. As he spoke, he put a pan of water on to boil before dropping a couple of slices of bread into the toaster and reaching for the eggs. "She is to be treated as a valued guest, Maggie. Give her anything she wants."
Nodding, Maggie put the teapot on a tray, added a little jug of milk, some sugar and a china mug and leaving the chef to prepare the eggs, she took the tray out to the restaurant, putting it down on Chrissie's table.
Chrissie let out a sigh of appreciation at the sight of the teapot. French coffee was good but she did miss a proper cup of tea in the morning. "Thank you… um… Maggie." She politely added the waitress's name, having noticed it on the badge on her apron and then impulsively asked, "If it's not an inconvenience, would you join me? I'd be glad of some company."
Maggie hesitated. The departing Klingons had left the restaurant in a less than pristine condition, just as they did every morning. There was work to be done and she should really get on with cleaning up. And yet, she was intrigued… This woman was the only human she had met who might actually understand her desire for the chef. Not that Grapok knew how much she liked him. Besides, now that she thought about it, she was hungry and Grapok had told her to give this woman anything she wanted. Yes, she decided, she would accept the invitation. "Grapok!" she yelled, pulling out a chair and sitting down, "Would you make that two lots of croissants? And another pot of tea."
For her part, Chrissie was just happy to talk with another woman who wasn't condemning her for her choice of partner. Chatting over breakfast, it quickly became apparent that they had a lot in common and she rather suspected that Maggie's interest in the chef was something more than friendship or two colleagues working together.
Putting her cup down after finishing off the last of their third pot of tea, Chrissie glanced at her watch, shocked to see that it was now 9:15. Reluctantly, she got to her feet. "Thank you, Maggie. I've enjoyed both the food and your company."
The two women looked each other, both of them quietly surprised that they just might have made a new friend and then Maggie offered the younger woman a smile. "I am glad to have met you, Chrissie. You're always welcome to come by for a chat."
As Maggie spoke, Grenn, realising that the two women were finally finished, moved to the door to ensure that there was no danger in the street. He was enjoying his new duties. All he'd had to do so far was fly the shuttle to whatever destination he was given and sit and drink raktajino. He'd even tasted the sweet pastries and found them odd but pleasant. This was much better than standing on guard outside the security building all day.
Ushering Chrissie out of the restaurant, Grenn took her back to the bank, again leaving the shuttle partially blocking the road. This time she didn't comment; at least this road was a bit wider and there was just enough space for a car to get past if it was careful. Her business at the bank was dealt with quickly and with a minimum of fuss. As she'd hoped, Grenn's presence had been extremely useful. Aware of the alien soldier, the manager had quickly given Chrissie all the assistance she required.
Emerging from the bank, back into the cold, winter air, Chrissie looked up at her tall companion. "Thank you, Grenn. That would have been so much more difficult if I'd been on my own."
Uncomfortable with her thanks, since he was only doing his job – a job which had just become a lot more interesting and enjoyable, Grenn shrugged self-consciously. "It is lucky then, that you are not alone."
Chrissie had said much the same thing to Krang only a day or two ago, reminding him that just like the first Klingon heart, he was not alone. For no particular reason, the words resonated through her mind. Not alone… She looked up at the angry-looking clouds filling the sky, heavy with the threat of rain and maybe another snow flurry. No, she was not alone! Somewhere up there, hiding in the blackness of space, was a Federation starship. She had promised Sarah that she would try to arrange a meeting between Krang and the resistance; it was time to fulfil that promise and she thought she knew how to do it.
Just a note that I should have included with the previous chapter. When I said that Chrissie was wearing a pink jumper, I was referring to a long sleeved, knitted sweater. We call them jumpers in the UK... a sweater to us is more a loose garment worn when exercising and is more casual.
Schools in France start at 8.30 in the morning and Wednesday is usually a half day. Older children will go to school on sarturday mornings as well. In the UK, schools usually start at 9am. There is of course a one hour time difference between France and England, so 8.30 in France is 7.30 in England. Incidentally, Lavigne is a genuine French surname. It happens to mean Vine, which I thought rather appropriate.
A big thank you to Solasnagreine, JDCO and RobertBruceScott for their continued support of this story. I promise I am not procrastinating or deliberately drawing the story out. The relationships being developed in this chapter are important.