Chapter 5: I love how your heart beats whenever I hold you
Summary: Spring 1962 and Patsy whisks Delia off to Paris... but what actually happened in the 'City of Light'?
Simply fluff... the whole fluff... and nothing but the fluff. So help me...
This chapter features an intimate love scene and is therefor rated M ...well, it is Paris after all – of course they're gonna!
Brighton, Saturday the 4th of May 2014, 11:20am
Delia ran her thumb over the third finger of her left hand and lightly over the engagement ring there, smiling to herself as she did so. Her knuckles were a little rough and somewhat gnarled now with mild arthritis, but the ring looked as new as the day it was made. It was timeless, Delia thought then, and such memories were held in those precious metals and stones. Memories of a lifetime of love… the love of her life…
"Penny for your thoughts?" Patsy whispered as she watched her love affectionately.
Delia looked up, startled slightly from her reverie "Oh, I was just thinking about when I used to wear this on a chain around my neck – remember?"
Patsy nodded and smiled softly.
"You might think this odd…" Delia continued, "…but I miss wearing it like that sometimes."
Patsy cocked her head and raised a quizzical eyebrow.
Delia chuckled softly and glanced down at the ring again, "I know it sounds silly perhaps – and not that I ever wanted to hide it – but it was like our own special secret. It was as though we knew this wonderful, amazing secret and we were just waiting for the rest of the world to catch up with us, you know?"
There was a pause, and after a couple of beats, Patsy whispered, "Have I ever told you how wonderful you are?"
Delia looked up again into those ice-blue eyes, now glistening with emotion. She brought her hand up and placed it gently on Patsy's chest, her index finger resting lightly in the vee at the base of her soon-to-be wife's throat. She felt the pulse there, strong as ever, an echo of the heart she loved so much, drumming its rhythm, constant and steadfast under her hand.
"You may have Cariad – once or twice," she replied with a soft smile. Drawing her hand back, she reached for the little red velvet box and opened it, lifting the little tab inside. "You know, I think the chain is probably still in here…" As she lifted the little flap to reveal the chain, her breath caught and she laughed, "Oh my word – look at what else is in here – I'd almost forgotten about this!"
Just as Delia was attempting to extract the mysterious item from its velvety hiding place however, there was a sudden, loud knock at the door.
Both women jumped in surprise.
"Room service!" a voice from the corridor called.
Patsy grinned "Ah! Breakfast," then turning towards the door she called, "Come in please!"
The door to their suite opened and a smartly dressed young man entered, pushing a large trolley before him, laden with a bounty of breakfast items. "Where would you like it madam?" he enquired, directing his query to Patsy who was now making her way towards him.
"Please take it through to the table in the breakfast room, would you?" Patsy replied.
The young man nodded and took the trolley through the adjoining doorway to the breakfast area, where he quickly but carefully set it all out on the table, before quietly closing the door behind him as he left.
Patsy grinned from the doorway, "I hope you're hungry Deels, we've got quite the spread… will you join me?"
Delia nodded, rising from her chair, "You know, I am suddenly quite famished," she replied and made her way to join Patsy in the breakfast room.
Spring sunlight was streaming through the tall Georgian windows as Delia entered the room, and there was a loud 'pop!' … the unmistakable sound of a cork leaving its bottle. Her eye was immediately caught by sunbeams glittering off two tall crystal champagne flutes – as well as the large chromium ice bucket in the middle of the table – and then Patsy – triumphantly brandishing the large bottle of newly-opened Taittinger Rosé.
Patsy drew out a chair for Delia and indicated to the bottle in her hand, "Would madam like a little fizz in her flute?"
Delia laughed and reached for one of the elegant crystal glasses, "Ha! …well… when you put it like that, how can a girl possibly refuse?" Then as Patsy charged their glasses, she raised an eyebrow and added "but isn't it a tad early for champagne Pats?"
Patsy snorted, "Nonsense! It's never too early…" then the corner of her mouth hooked upwards slyly "…the sun is bound to be over the yard-arm somewhere in the world – and besides – we've got this enormous breakfast to soak it all up!"
Delia smiled "Well, OK… it's just – bubbles do make you a little tipsy Cariad."
Patsy looked almost comically affronted, "I robustly refute that claim," she countered, haughtily drawing herself up to her full height, "I'll have you know, I am perfectly capable of holding my liquor!"
Delia laughed again and reached two fingers into the small ring box she was still holding. "I beg to differ," she replied with a grin, "especially where champagne is concerned, and I just happen to have the evidence of that right here in my hand!"
With a flourish, she pulled the mystery item from the little box and laid it face-up on the table, as though playing a trump-card.
Patsy leaned forward and squinted. There on the table was a black and white passport-sized photograph, clearly from a photo-booth.
Delia reached forward and lifted it to reveal underneath another little photograph. Then she laughed heartily as she used a finger to reveal two more, spreading them all out on the table like a winning hand of cards.
The first was of Delia, looking directly into the camera and smiling prettily. The three after that however, were something different altogether…
They seemed to show a short sequence of events:
Patsy entering the booth suddenly to sit on Delia's lap, much to Delia's delighted surprise.
Then Patsy planting a kiss on Delia's cheek as the latter laughed straight into the camera.
Then finally, the last shot showed the pair leaning against one another and locked at the lips in a full-on clinch, Delia's hand resting on Patsy's chest, and Patsy, one arm stretched out bracing herself, fingers splayed and palm flat against the back wall of the booth.
Delia watched with mounting amusement as Patsy took in the diorama on the table before her. The hint of a blush turning the taller woman's cheeks a delicate shade of pink – not dissimilar to the hue of the champagne in her glass.
"Remember Paris Cariad?" Delia enquired, her tone was innocent but her eyes glittered with mirth.
Patsy, eyes still riveted to the photographs, momentarily held her lower lip gently between her teeth… and then took a rather large sip of the lively pink liquid, before replying huskily, "How could I possibly forget?"
—
Paris, Saturday the 7th of April 1962, 2:45am
"TAXI!"
Patsy called loudly, one arm outstretched to catch the attention of the cab driver, the other arm still draped around Delia's shoulders, holding her close. The cab pulled to a halt before them just as the light April shower they'd been caught in was starting to turn heavier. Leaving the warmth of Patsy's embrace to climb into the back of the cab, Delia started to really feel the chill that Patsy had been so concerned about.
The cab driver twisted in his seat to face them, "Bonsoir mesdames, où?" he enquired.
Patsy leaned forward and replied, "Hôtel Château Frontenac, près des Champs-Élysées s'il vous plaît."
The driver nodded and turned on the meter, and pulling away from the kerb, he switched off the interior lights dimming the rear of the cab into darkness.
With her actions veiled under the deep shadows, Delia took the opportunity to sidle up against Patsy, sitting as close to her as propriety allowed and enjoyed the feeling of the taller woman's body heat slowly begin to warm her. A moment later, to her delight, she felt Patsy seek out her hand, then long fingers intertwine with her own and squeeze gently. Then after a beat, the fingers left hers and – in a move that took her a little by surprise – she felt Patsy's hand rest briefly on her knee… before those long fingers found the hem of her dress…
Delia froze and found herself holding her breath…
In the darkness of the cab, she couldn't quite make out Patsy's features, but given her brazen actions, she appeared to be throwing caution to the wind – propriety be damned it seemed!
The intrepid fingers continued on their journey of exploration, working their way up under Delia's dress until Patsy's hand settled warm… no – searingly hot – on her thigh… those daring fingers playing along her stocking line, teasing the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
Delia let out a shuddering breath and glanced sideways at Patsy, and then furtively flicked her eyes towards the driver. Her heart was hammering in her chest and her pulse was pounding in her ears so loudly, that surely he must hear it. However, the driver seemed oblivious, concentrating instead on the muted music drifting from the radio in the cab, and on the road ahead.
The cab made its way out of the Montmartre side streets and onto the main roads, and now sudden shafts of light from these more brightly lit streets illuminated the interior of the cab like a slowmotion strobe. In those brief flashes of light, she caught the slightest of smiles playing across Patsy's lips as she gazed out of the cab window. As the streetlights continued to strobe, Delia began to feel somewhat entranced, as though slipping gradually into some kind of surreally sensual waking dream. She cleared her throat nervously and squirmed slightly in her seat as her insides clenched suddenly and pleasurably, and her thigh began to tremble under Patsy's touch.
Patsy turned to face Delia then, and her eyes were dark and hooded, unreadable and obscured in shadows. She leaned in close, her lips brushing lightly against the smaller woman's ear. "Gosh, you're still shivering," she whispered, "don't worry – it won't be long before I have you warmed up." Then she quickly straightened up and gazed out of the window again as though nothing of any significance had transpired… except that her hand was still high up under Delia's dress, and that mysterious, knowing smile still tugged at the corner of her mouth…
Delia was indeed shivering – but not from the cold – and she found herself very nearly failing to fight down an overwhelmingly strong urge to kiss that mouth fully and deeply, right there in the back of the cab… propriety be damned…
Just then – and perhaps just in time – they reached their destination.
The driver flicked on the interior lights, rousing Delia from her dazed state. Patsy immediately removed her hand from its soft, warm resting place and Delia quickly smoothed her hemline back into place.
After thanking the driver and handing over the fare, they hastily exited the cab and found themselves once more in the cool dampness of the April shower. Now Delia truly did begin to shiver with cold – they both did – and they made their way quickly up the steps to the doors of the hotel.
Delia made to push her way through the heavy doors, but found to her horror that they wouldn't budge. "Oh God Pats!" she whispered loudly, "we're locked out!" She looked up at the huge, ornate doors in panic, suddenly feeling like a pupil nurse again, caught out of the nurses home after curfew.
Then she felt a warm hand on the small of her back briefly as Patsy stepped past her towards the doors. "It's alright Deels, there will be a night manager on duty," Patsy reassured her, and then pushed the large brass button of the doorbell.
They could hear the bell ringing brightly inside, and after only a moment, a smartly-dressed, middle-aged man appeared at the door to let them in.
As they stepped into the warm hotel foyer, Patsy apologised for their lateness, "Désolé nous sommes si tard ce soir."
"Pas un problème madame. Aurez-vous besoin de quoi que ce soit d'autre ce soir?" the manager replied in politely hushed tones.
Patsy paused, then replied "Oui ... euh, un instant s'il vous plaît …" then she turned to Delia, offered her their room key and whispered, "I'm just going to order us some breakfast for later in the morning, how about you go on up and run a hot bath?"
Aware of the night manager's presence Delia quickly took the keys, gave Patsy a little nod and a smile, then before a rising blush could fully form on her cheeks, she quickly took the lift to the fifth floor.
As she approached the door to their room, she smiled to herself. She couldn't quite believe it was possible, but she had a feeling that perhaps this weekend was about to get even better…
—
15 hours earlier…
They had taken the 'Night Ferry' sleeper train the day before from London Victoria to Paris Gare du Nord. Delia couldn't believe it when they took their twin-berth sleeper cabin in First Class. She was already beside herself with excitement at the prospect of her first ever trip abroad, and she'd never imagined they'd be travelling in such style.
Patsy had laughed affectionately at her wide-eyed delight and said, "It's not the Orient Express Deels – it just means we don't have to get out and walk off the boat at the other side like the folk in the cheap seats. You see, the first class carriage goes all the way to Gare du Nord…"
Now Delia stood next to Patsy at the reception desk in the beautiful Art Nouveau foyer of the Château Frontenac hotel, and observed riveted, as the taller woman engaged in a quite lengthy – and apparently heated – discussion with the hotel manager.
"Oui, mais quand j'ai appelé la semaine dernière, j'ai spécifiquement demandé une chambre avec une salle de bain…" Patsy explained, with a tone of exasperation in her voice.
"Je suis désolé madame, la seule chambre avec une salle de bain est un double…" the manager replied, looking pointedly at Delia.
Delia pulled herself up to her full height and raised her eyebrows at him in challenge. She didn't understand what he'd said, but she decided she didn't like his tone…
Patsy wasted no time retorting in short, clipped tones, her voice rising slightly as she spoke, "Mon compagnon de voyage est un collègue. C'est un voyage de travail. Nous sommes parfaitement capables de partager un lit sans faire d'histoires!"
The manager flinched and shrank slightly under Patsy's steely-eyed stare, glanced quickly around the foyer, and then appeared to back down… "Très bien…" he replied quietly, then he took a set of keys from a pigeon-hole behind him and handed them over to Patsy, "Vous êtes invités à prendre la suite Frontenac au cinquième étage."
Patsy nodded and accepted the keys with a curt "Merci", then turned to Delia and whispered, "It's alright – everything is fine now – let's get settled-in.
Delia nodded and asked in a low voice, "did he make some kind of insinuation?"
Patsy nodded, "Yes he did, but don't worry – I put him straight."
—
Delia couldn't believe her eyes when they entered what was to be their room for the weekend. "Oh my… Pats, it's huge!" she exclaimed in disbelief.
The room was easily three times as large as her dorm at Nonnatus. Huge floor to ceiling windows flooded the room with light, and an enormous double bed dominated the room. She had never seen such a large bed and she had to suppress a sudden urge to immediately get into it. Adjacent to a large double wardrobe was an ornate wooden door. Delia crossed the room and opened it – and stepped into an incredible bathroom. "Pats!" she exclaimed excitedly, her voice echoing off the ornately-tiled walls, "Pats – come and see this!"
Patsy appeared in the doorway a moment later and nodded in satisfaction, "Oh yes, this is definitely worth the little tête-à-tête at reception!"
Every surface was richly tiled, there were twin wash-hand basins on one wall, along with a veritable throne of a toilet. The pièce de résistance however, was the enormous free-standing bathtub in middle of the floor.
"Can we afford this Pats?" Delia breathed, a hint of uncertainty in her tone.
"Yes actually, we can," Patsy confirmed, "our little pot of savings turned out to be larger than expected," she explained, "…plus, I added some money of my own – an allowance from my father on my eighteenth birthday – which I've never wanted to spend. Until now."
Delia's eyebrows shot up at that, "What? Oh Pats, you shouldn't have – that's your money…"
"Yes, it is," Patsy agreed, with a soft smile "and I want to spend it on you," she stated simply. Then, before Delia could protest further she added, "and on myself – because I fully intend on squeezing as much enjoyment out of this weekend as I possibly can!"
"Hear, hear!" Delia clapped her hands delightedly, "I'd raise a glass to that, if I had one…!"
Patsy chuckled, "Later darling… we don't want to peak too soon!"
—
After unpacking, they took a short cab ride to the Place de la Concorde, where they had a light brunch of coffee and pain au chocolat, before spending the next few hours wandering through the Louvre, admiring the beautiful works of art on display there.
The highlight for Delia was the Mona Lisa.
She'd always dreamt of seeing it, and she entered the gallery where it was held with the same sense of giddy anticipation she felt when opening presents on Christmas day…
… except at first, she couldn't see it.
She had to scan the gallery twice, before she realised that what she was looking for was not some epic, larger-than-life canvas, but rather a tiny almost postage-stamp sized painting, half-obscured by the crowd of admirers gathered round it. As they worked their way to the front of the crowd however, Delia did not find herself disappointed, instead she marvelled at the delicate intricacies of the petite painting and found herself entranced by that oddly familiar, slightly mysterious, knowing smile…
Just then, she felt Patsy's hand in hers, "Penny for your thoughts…?" she whispered.
"Oh, I was just thinking… she's a lot smaller than I imagined…" Delia murmured, still somewhat under the Mona Lisa's spell.
Patsy squeezed her hand gently and leaned in to whisper, "I've found that the best things in life often are…"
Delia managed to tear her eyes from the painting to find herself captivated by another, entirely more tangible beauty.
"You're a smooth talker Mount," she said blushing slightly and shaking her head.
"I only try to speak the truth," Patsy replied with a wink, "now come on," she tugged gently on Delia's hand, "we need to get back to the hotel in time for dinner – and then we're painting this town red!"
—
Over dinner in the hotel's impressive dining room, the pair planned their evening entertainments.
They decided to visit the Eiffel Tower first, and then Patsy suggested they explore the Montmartre district. There was a club there that she'd heard might suit them very well. Delia's curiosity was immediately piqued, but when she pressed Patsy for details, all she received was a mysterious "You'll see…"
Another short cab ride took them to the Eiffel Tower just as dusk was falling. They purchased their tickets at the kiosk and joined the throng of people climbing the stairs to the lift deck. They had to wait a short while before they could take the lift, but from this deck they were high enough to get an impressive view of the city, and they watched the sun set and the street lights come on. Soon however, it was their turn to take the lift, and they squeezed themselves in with a dozen or so other sightseers. Delia stood close to Patsy, and as the lift began its ascent she felt long fingers find hers.
She glanced up at Patsy and whispered "Gosh, this is so exciting!"
Patsy leaned closer and whispered back, "I know, isn't it? Just wait till we get to the top though – the view will be amazing!"
Delia glanced upwards through the small window in the ceiling of the lift. The huge, riveted girders of the tower whizzed by, revealed in brief flashes against the darkening night sky by the lights of the lift car. It seemed to Delia as though they might be flying through the skeleton of some gigantic, mythical beast. Soon they were passing through the most slender part of the tower and Delia felt her stomach flip giddily as she realised just how high they were.
Then the lift halted at the upper deck of the tower, and the sightseers disembarked to take in the view.
And what a view it was.
Delia and Patsy took an almost simultaneous intake of breath as their eyes adjusted to the incredible sight before them. They stood in what looked like the most elegant – but enormous – gilded birdcage. Beyond this, and in every direction, the illuminated streets of Paris were laid out before them. Delia noticed that the street pattern seemed to radiate outwards and away from them, and being lit up and sparkling as they were, it was as though they were standing in the centre of a huge, exploding starburst.
At various points around the viewing deck were large, coin-operated monoculars.
Delia made a bee-line for one of them. Standing on tip-toes, she put her eye to the glass – only to find inky blackness. Quickly realising it was coin-operated, she rummaged in her purse, found the required 10 centime coin and popped it in the slot. Pressing her eye back to the glass, she now had an impressively enlarged view of the city. She scanned the scene and found a detailed view of the Arc de Triomphe off to her left. Then scanning back to her right, her eye was caught by a bright red flash. On closer inspection, she found that it looked like some kind of windmill…
She turned from the lens and found Patsy just behind her, still gazing out over the city. "It's so beautiful Pats…" she whispered as the taller woman's gaze came back to meet hers.
"It really is Deels, more so than I imagined… the city of light… La Ville-Lumière…" Patsy replied softly.
Delia indicated to a point on the skyline, "There's something over there that looks like a windmill, all lit up in red – take a look through the lens…"
Patsy leaned forward and put her eye to the glass "Ah yes, that's the Moulin Rouge…"
"What? You mean The Moulin Rouge?" exclaimed Delia in disbelief, "…the legendary Belle Epoque cabaret club?"
Patsy laughed, "Yes – the very same!"
"But I didn't realise it still exists… I've only ever read about it in books... is that the club we're going to then?" Delia asked excitedly.
"Not exactly…" Patsy replied, "… but we could take a look on the way, if you like?"
—
They caught a cab from the Tower, crossed the Seine via one of its many bridges and arrived in the Montmartre district only a short distance from the Moulin Rouge.
As they approached the brightly lit club however, they could see that there appeared to be some kind of red-carpet event in progress. The pavement in front of the club was cordoned-off and a gang of paparazzi jockeyed for the best shots of all the 'beautiful people' making their way along the red carpet and into the club.
They watched the spectacle from the other side of the street for a few moments but didn't recognise any famous faces, so they continued on into Montmartre.
"So what is this mysterious club you're taking me to Pats?" Delia enquired as they walked the narrow, cobbled streets, passing busy cafes and bars along the way.
Patsy looped her arm though Delia's, "It's called Le Monocle and I suppose it's Paris' version of the Gateways."
Delia was intrigued, "Really – and how did you find out about it?"
"I mentioned in conversation to the barmaid at the Gates that we were coming to Paris, and she told me about it… she said we must make a point of going, in fact." Patsy explained.
Just then, they turned into a small lane and Patsy announced, "…and here we are!"
Taking Delia's hand, she led her towards the doors of the club. 'Le Monocle' was spelled out in bright bulbs above the door, it was nowhere near as garish as the Moulin Rouge, but it certainly pronounced itself much more loudly than the Gates did at home.
They could hear muted music and the hubbub of a large crowd drifting out onto the street, and as they pushed through the doors, they were assaulted by a cacophony of sights and sounds.
They found themselves in a packed foyer area and quickly joined the queue for the cloakroom. Once they'd handed over their coats, they made their way into the club towards the huge bar area, off to the side of which was a large dance floor, and beyond that, an area which was set out with cabaret-style tables in front of a small stage.
"Shall we get a drink at the bar first?" Patsy enquired.
"Oh, yes – I'm parched!" Delia stated then added, "I think a large G&T is required!"
They found space at the bar, sipped their drinks and people-watched for a while.
The dance floor was crowded with women, some wore dapper suits, whilst others were dressed more like themselves, and there seemed to be a wide range of age groups all enjoying the club. The atmosphere was charged but happy and it wasn't long before Delia dragged Patsy – without much coaxing – up onto the floor. It was so liberating to be able to dance together again – especially to the slow songs – which found them moving together in unison and enjoying the close physical contact which was often so rare in their daily lives.
As the evening progressed a voice came over the speakers and announced something at length in french.
Patsy helpfully translated: "They're saying that the cabaret will start shortly and anyone interested should find a seat at the tables – shall we?"
"Yes let's!" Delia replied enthusiastically, and they made their way to the tables.
As they took their seats, they noticed that a small team of young women appeared to be serving the tables. They were all dressed smartly in sharply tailored 'maitre d' style outfits, and Patsy wasted no time in catching the attention of one. As the waitress approached, Patsy leaned over to Delia, "I think we should order champagne, what do you think?"
Delia laughed delightedly, "Why not – we are in Paris after all!"
Just as the show was about to start, the waitress appeared, placed an ice bucket on the table, poured their champagne then deposited the bottle into the ice with a flourish. Patsy added a generous tip to the payment and the waitress winked as she left, "Merci mesdames, profitez du spectacle!"
"À la vôtre!" Patsy toasted, raising her glass in Delia's direction.
"Cheers!" Delia touched her glass to Patsy's.
They each took a long sip of the bright, golden liquid, smiled at each other in satisfaction and then settled-in to watch the show.
And what a show it was.
A dazzling variety of female performers whirled across the stage – there were fire-eaters, jugglers, contortionists and the obligatory can-can of course – but it was the final act which had Delia completely enthralled.
Two slender, dark haired women strode onto the stage to the strains of a tango, they were equal in height and dressed identically all in black. Each wore impossibly high heels, figure-hugging trousers, halter-neck waistcoats and a trilby, pulled down low over their eyes. They moved as one, performing in complete symmetry the most complex moves that Delia had ever seen, their bodies never parting until the dance was done.
Delia had been unable to tear her eyes away until she felt Patsy's breath against her ear, "Well, those two were thoroughly fetching!" she whispered, then gazed over the rim of her glass at Delia before quickly draining the last of the champagne.
Delia raised her eyebrows in surprise – such blatant and vocal appreciation of the female form was unusual for Patsy. She chuckled, "Not as fetching as you!" then added with a grin, "I like loose-tongued Pats – I'm going to make you drink champagne more often!"
Patsy smiled, "I hate to say this, but it really is getting late, we should think about getting back to the hotel since we have a fairly full itinerary of sightseeing still to come tomorrow afternoon." Then glancing at her watch she noted the lateness of the hour and added, "…or should I say today!"
They made their way back to the foyer and collected their coats from the cloakroom.
The entrance area was quieter than it had been earlier and as they made for the doors Delia now noticed an ancient looking photo booth tucked away in a dark corner. "Pats," she touched the taller woman's arm "I didn't notice that earlier… what strange place for a photo booth"
Patsy frowned and agreed, "Yes, that is a little unusual… you'd normally only see these in public buildings."
"Pardon… English…?" a voice called, and they turned to see the cloakroom attendant beckoning them over.
"Yes, we're from London – we're here on holiday..." Delia replied.
The attendant smiled and nodded, and then in a thick accent explained, "the picture box is for patrons, so you can 'ave photos with sweethearts…?"
"Ah oui – merci!" Patsy nodded, thanking her before turning to Delia with devious look in her eye, "What a marvellous idea – let's take some pictures…"
Delia searched her purse and found some small-change, "I think I only have enough for one strip of pictures…"
Patsy furrowed her brows, "OK, we'll just have to make sure we get it right…" She took the change and indicated to Delia to enter the booth, "I'd like one of just you on your own first, if that would be alright…?"
Delia smiled, "Of course it's alright… but you'll have to come in quick after the first shot…"
Delia slipped into the booth and drew the curtain.
Patsy fed the coins into the slot and waited…
The mechanism of the booth whirred an rattled and after a few seconds a bright flash fired out from under the curtain. Patsy took that as her cue, quickly entered the booth and sat on Delia's knee.
"Pats!" Delia exclaimed in delighted surprise, "… but we'll have to lower the seat or you won't fit in the frame – quick – there are only a few seconds between shots!"
They jumped up and spun the seat a few times to lower it, then threw themselves back onto it, giggling uncontrollably as Patsy perched precariously on Delia's knee…. just in time…
FLASH! … the second shot was taken.
"Oh, lord knows what that one's going to look like…" Delia's giggles were turning into full laughter now.
"Well, I know what the next one will look like…" Patsy stated. She leaned in and placed a kiss on Delia's cheek, just as…
FLASH! … shot three.
As the seconds ticked down towards the last picture, Delia's laughter subsided and she tilted her face up towards Patsy's until their lips were almost touching "Patience Mount, are you tipsy?" her lips brushed lightly against Patsy's as she spoke.
"Maybe a little… but I know what I'm doing – and this is the picture I really want…" She quickly captured Delia's lips in a long and lingering kiss.
Delia's heart fluttered as she parted her lips and felt Patsy deepen the kiss. She almost forgot their surroundings for a moment, instinctively leaning into the taller woman – and throwing them both off balance.
Patsy threw her arm out and braced herself against the wall of the booth or they most certainly would have toppled out through the curtain to land in a heap on the foyer floor…
FLASH! …. the final shot.
The bright light brought them back to the moment, although the kiss lingered on for a few seconds more. Eventually, reluctantly, they parted and managed to regain some composure.
"I think we should take this elsewhere…" Patsy whispered softly.
They alighted the booth with dignity intact and Patsy collected the strip of photos as they exited. It was still a little damp so she held it carefully at the edges for Delia to see. Delia's eyes widened at the sequence of pictures, "Cripes Pats! You do realise we can't ever let anyone see these…?"
"That's exactly the point Deels… these are for our eyes only," Patsy replied with a knowing smile.
She secreted the photos carefully into her bag and they pushed through the doors of the club and out into the street.
—
They retraced their steps through the now quiet lanes of Montmartre arm in arm, heading gradually towards the main thoroughfares with the aim of hailing a cab back to the hotel. A fine rain had begun to dampen the air and the cobbled streets glistened under the lampposts as they passed one of the many late-night cafes. They noticed a young woman sitting on the steps just ahead, smoking a cigarette and playing an accordion and, as they approached, she glanced up at them and smiled and began playing a tune with a slow, languorous rhythm.
An almost-tango…
"Let's dance!" said Patsy suddenly, grabbing Delia at the waist and pulling her close.
Completely caught off guard, all Delia could think to say was, "What? Pats, it's raining…"
Patsy laughed and replied simply, "I know!"
Delia was quickly finding herself completely beguiled by this spontaneous version of her lover – a side of Patsy that was rarely fully revealed – and she couldn't bare to break the spell. So, rather than fret over the rain, or the fact that they were in each other's arms in the street for anyone to see, she simply closed her eyes and allowed Patsy to lead her in a slow dance. Her head rested against Patsy and she swayed gently with her to the music, almost in time to the heart she could feel beating out a gentle rhythm, so steady and so comforting, in her lover's chest.
As the song came to an end, the young accordionist applauded delightedly.
They dropped some coins into the upturned hat at her feet and they heard her call, "Belle femme!" after them, as they continued on their way.
They had walked only a few yards, when Patsy, still with her arm around Delia's shoulders exclaimed, "Oh Deels, you're shivering! We can't have you catching a chill… we must get out of this rain…"
Until then, Delia had been oblivious to the cold rain, but now suddenly, she began to feel it and she edged closer under the taller woman's arm for warmth.
Just then, Patsy spotted a cab and yelled "TAXI!" at the top of her voice…
—
Paris, Saturday the 7th of April 1962, 3:20am
…After running a bath as instructed, Delia was already submerged and soaking in the luxuriously hot, foamy water by the time Patsy arrived back from reception.
She should be exhausted by now, Delia thought to herself, but instead, her whole body was buzzing with excitement and anticipation.
She heard the door to their suite click open and immediately recognised the pattern of Patsy's footsteps crossing the floor of the bedroom. She called out, "Sorry Pats, my teeth were beginning to chatter from the chill of my damp clothes, so I just had to get in the bath…"
"That's quite alright sweetheart, I'm sorry I took a little longer than anticipated…" came the response from the next room.
Then she heard Patsy to-ing and fro-ing in the bedroom for a moment… heard shoes being kicked off and the wardrobe door opening and closing… and then a loud 'POP!' – which made her start in surprise – followed by the unmistakeable sound of a sparkling liquid being poured into glasses….
…she was still sitting upright in the bath a few moments later, eyebrows quizzically raised, when Patsy appeared in the bathroom doorway.
Leaning casually against the door frame, she was clad in one of the fluffy hotel robes… only she hadn't bothered to tie it…
Delia blinked and swallowed, and was unable to stop her eyes from seeking out and lingering on the tantalising flashes of creamy white skin that were revealed as Patsy moved into the room. Her damp copper tresses, now freed from their usual restraints, fell around her shoulders and in each hand she clasped a broad-bowled champagne coupe filled with glittering golden liquid.
Taking in the sight before her, Patsy shook her head and chuckled softly, "I was going to wait for you in the bedroom, but then the steam floating out of the bathroom was so enticing, and now seeing you in a bath which is easily big enough for us both – and with only bubbles to spare your blushes – well, it really is just too inviting to resist!"
She paused and cocked an eyebrow, "do you mind if I join you?"
Delia canted her head and cocked her own eyebrow in response, "I was hoping you would…" and immediately moved forwards in the water to make more room.
Patsy's lips curled into that familiar, lop-sided smiled, "Here, take these then," she said and quickly handed over the two glasses.
Delia spent a captivating second or two watching as the robe slid to the floor and the beautiful, alabaster-skinned woman stepped into the bath behind her and lowered herself slowly into the frothy bubbles. Surely – she wondered, as she felt Patsy's long legs fit snuggly either side of her – surely, right then in this moment, she must be the luckiest girl alive…
"Oh, this is just devine!" Patsy sighed contentedly as she relaxed into the hot water.
Leaning forwards over Delia's shoulder, she took one of the champagne glasses, touched it to Delia's with a ringing 'clink' and then took a long sip.
Delia followed suit taking a sip of the lively liquid gold, "Mmm Pats, this is lovely!" she exclaimed, smiling her approval over her shoulder at Patsy.
"Well, we normally have a little whisky nightcap after a night out, don't we?" Patsy explained and then added, "but since we're in Paris, I thought this was much more fitting."
Delia nodded taking another sip, "I commend your choice once again Pats!"
They sipped in contended silence for moment or two, then Patsy laid her glass on the edge of the bath and unwrapped a bar of the complimentary luxury soap.
"I could wash your back for you, if you like…?" she whispered over Delia's shoulder.
Delia took one more sip from her glass before setting it aside, "Yes please, that would be lovely Cariad."
Patsy carefully swept Delia's long dark hair out of the way, then worked the bar of soap in her hands until they were coated in a thick creamy lather. Then she began to slowly work the lather into Delia's skin. "You really do have beautiful shoulders – have I told you that?" Patsy commented quietly.
Delia smiled briefly to herself and murmured softly, "I don't think you have… but thank you…" Then straightening her back and resting her arms on the sides of the bath, she closed her eyes and let Patsy's hands work their magic.
Gliding smoothly over her skin, they deftly but gently massaged the muscles of her upper back before continuing to her shoulders and arms. "…and your skin…" Patsy's voice came again, low and quiet, "God…those freckles… I just…" her voice trailed off into a deep sigh.
Delia sighed her appreciation as Patsy's fingers slowly kneaded deltoids, biceps and triceps, "Mmmmm… that feels heavenly…"
"Good…" Patsy leaned forwards, her breath soft against Delia's ear, "… now, how does this feel..?"
Her hands slid back up over Delia's shoulders and found her neck, thumbs applying gentle pressure to the upper trapezius muscles, fingers caressing her throat.
Delia's neck was one of her most sensitive places, and she felt a sudden fizz of electricity ripple through her core.
All she could manage in response to Patsy's query was a murmured "Mmmmm…" followed by the briefest of nods.
Patsy's hands smoothed more of the luxuriantly foamy lather round onto Delia's throat and down across her chest, and then she began gently working on the pectoral muscles just above the breasts. Delia felt her skin prickle and her insides shiver in pleasure. Giving in to the building sensations coursing through her body, she leaned back further onto Patsy. Her head came to rest on the taller woman's shoulder, and the pair now reclined cheek to cheek in the enveloping warmth of the bath water. Steam rose from their glistening skin in slow tendrils and Delia could feel the wonderfully silky-soft mounds of Patsy's breasts pressed against her shoulder-blades.
Her heart began to pound.
"Would you like me to continue?" Patsy enquired, her voice low and husky, her lips feathering Delia's cheek.
Another little nod and a whispered 'Yes'.
Delia turned her face towards Patsy, and then those full, oh-so-soft lips were on hers.
The kiss was slow, soft and sensual, and at the same time, Patsy ran her soapy hands over Delia's breasts, cupping them gently. Delia responded immediately, allowing Patsy's tongue access to deepen the kiss. Then Patsy ran slippery thumbs over taught nipples and Delia felt a huge shiver of pleasure run through her body, culminating in an unmistakeable bloom of heat in her groin.
Feeling the involuntary movement, Patsy snaked one arm down and around Delia's waist and held her safely against her own body. At the same moment, Delia broke the kiss with a sharp inhalation of breath, grabbed Patsy's other hand from her breast and firmly plunged it beneath the water, pressing it palm-down onto her dark curls.
She felt Patsy nod her head and then long fingers dipped into silken folds, gently seeking and quickly finding her firm little bud, swollen with arousal.
As Patsy teased her – ever so slowly at first – Delia's breaths became deep and measured. Her hips began to rock, matching the rhythm of her breaths and an intense heat began to build within her. Gently, Patsy applied a little more pressure and tempo and Delia felt the hot pressure within her build and her breathing become more rapid. Her hips moved of their own volition and bath water lapped over the edge of the bath to splash onto the floor.
"Pats please…" she managed to gasp in between breaths, "… I… oh! …I need you in me!"
Delia parted her legs as far as the confines of the bath would allow, and Patsy quickly stretched her arm a little further, carefully dipping two fingers deep inside her love, whilst pressing the heel of her hand firmly back onto that most sensitive spot.
Even in the warm bath water, Delia was so slick and ready that she barely felt Patsy enter her – until those fingers applied rhythmic pressure inside her. The intense tingling within her began to build to such a crescendo that Delia could contain it no longer. Her breath held, her body arched out of the water and she yielded to the exquisite release, a low cry echoing softly off the tiled walls as she sank back into Patsy's soft embrace.
Patsy held her as the final shudders of the climax subsided, before slowly and carefully withdrawing her fingers from Delia's body. They lay together blissfully for a long while before Patsy eventually broke the silence. "Well," she whispered against her lover's ear, "are we warmed up yet?"
"I should say so!" Delia chuckled quietly. She rolled over in the water to face Patsy and placed a slow kiss on her lips, before adding, "but I think this water is starting to get cold… so, before we cool-off too much, I'm taking you to bed…."
They towelled each other dry and retired to the bedroom, where Delia spent what remained of the night lavishing her attention over every beautiful inch of Patsy's body. She thrilled at the sight and sound of her lover slowly coming undone under her touch. Her heart soared as Patsy finally surrendered and came, softly crying her name into the half-light of the morning….
—
….Delia shifted and stretched under the sheets smiling to herself as Patsy's arm around her waist unconsciously held her tighter. With her eyes closed, and in that deeply comforting space somewhere between waking and sleep, she sighed contentedly. Marvellous things were swirling through her mind's eye: foamy bubbles; steamy skin; acres of toned pale flesh trembling at her every touch; soft, sweet sighs into the darkness; an ardent, glorious heartbeat thrumming as she held her lover close, all the way to dawn…
…. and knocking.
Distant at first, but soon becoming closer. Yes, it was definitely a knocking noise. Now louder and more insistent.
Delia frowned….
The knocking was now accompanied by a muffled voice speaking words that were not familiar to her… "….service de chambre!"
Patsy's arm suddenly withdrew from her waist, jolting her awake.
"Pats…..?" she mumbled, voice thick with sleep, rubbing her eyes drowsily.
"Oh lord!" Patsy exclaimed as she sprang out of bed, "it's room service – gosh, is it 11 o'clock already?!"
Without waiting for a response, Patsy sprinted into the bathroom and retrieved her discarded robe from the floor there. Hastily tying it tightly at the waist, she called out to the poor chap in the hallway outside, "Oui! Oui… un moment s'il vous plaît!"
"What shall I do!?" Delia asked, fully awake now and in a state of mild panic as she took in the rumpled and dishevelled sate of the bed before her.
"Just stay where you are," Patsy instructed as she hurriedly smoothed the sheets up to Delia's neck and arranged the blanket neatly on top. "There – that looks a lot less slept in – if you know what I mean…" she muttered making her way quickly to the door. Turning to look over her shoulder at Delia's worried expression, she added gently, "it's OK Deels, don't look so guilty – they know we're sharing this room and we have every right to be here."
Delia tried to compose herself and pulled the covers up to her chin as Patsy opened the door to admit the hotel porter.
She needn't have worried. The fellow barely cast a glance in her direction while he set their breakfast on the table by the window and then left quietly.
As the door clicked shut again, Patsy leaned back against it and sighed. She gazed steadily at Delia for a very long moment.
"Pats… what…?" Delia eventually asked, hesitantly.
A slow smiled hooked one corner of Patsy's mouth, "Oh, it's just… I don't want the weekend to end!".
Then she strode purposefully across the room towards the bed, roughly tugged the belt of her robe loose and shrugged the whole thing off to the floor. "Would you like some breakfast in bed?" she enquired, completely ignoring the spread laid out on the table, as she lifted the sheets and climbed back in beside Delia.
Delia felt her heart pick up a pace and a renewed flush of pleasure ripple through her, "I certainly would!"
Yes, thought Delia then, as Patsy peppered soft kisses over her face and neck, the weekend – as she'd earlier suspected it would – had exceeded every one of her expectations… and it wasn't even over yet!
There would always be a place in her heart now for 'La Ville-Lumière'.
TBC...
Chapter notes:
Disclaimer: my french is ropey at best, so apologies to you all if I have butchered your native tongue...
The Night Ferry: was an international sleeper train between London Victoria and Paris Gare du Nord (and later also Brussels). Until the Eurostar service began on 14 November 1994, the Night Ferry had been the only through passenger train between Great Britain and Continental Europe.
Le Monocle: Opened by Lulu de Montparnasse, Le Monocle was one of the first— and perhaps the most famous—lesbian nightclubs in Paris. So called because in the 1930s, lesbian women commonly wore a monocle and a white carnation to subtly signify their sexuality. It opened in the 1920s and flourished through the early 1940s, until it was closed due to the Nazi occupation of France. Years later, the club was reopened, but never again reached its original glory.