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 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.