Chapter 18

The drive into town was mostly silent. Each was confined to their own thoughts, with Francis staring dutifully ahead at the road and Matthew and Michelle in twin poses at the back, each looking out of their respective sides with an arm on the ledge of the window.

Eventually, Francis turned into the car park and cut the engine. The sudden lack of noise startled the two teens into looking up. Francis quirked a small smile at them, waiting until they were out before hugging both of them in turn.

"Don't cry, mon Cherie" he said gently to Michelle. "Your friend is likely already waiting for you. Go and have fun, if you can, and I will meet you for lunch in a few hours. If there is anything you want, just buy it. You too, Matthieu."

He handed him a small plastic card. Matthew took it, a little surprised. While Amelia was relatively lenient when it came to pocket money, she had always given it as a reward for chores, partly on Arthur's insistence that he and Alfred both learn the value of money. He slipped the credit card into his pocket, looking at his father, unsure

Francis simply nodded at him. "You deserve it, both of you." He checked his watch briefly. "Now, I really must be going. My phone will be on, but I might not be able to answer it. Ring if something is urgent, otherwise I will see you back here in a few hours, alright?"

They both nodded. "Alright. Have a good time." He waved once, then strode off.

Matthew looked over at Michelle. The girl smiled sadly at him, wiping her eyes carefully. "I'm alright" she insisted. "He's right, Carlos is probably waiting for us. Shall we go?"

Matthew nodded.

As predicted, Carlos was standing at the pillar like before. He smiled when he caught sight of them, raising his arm in a greeting.

"Hey, good to see you again." He knew enough of grief himself to know not to ask the pointless question, and Matthew was very grateful for it.

They spent the morning wandering aimlessly from shop to shop. Without needing to be told, Carlos kept up an easy conversation with them both, eventually rewarded with a genuine smile from Michelle. Matthew was amazed at how he managed it, since he was still too caught up in his own thoughts, and had no idea how to comfort his cousin. This was, after all, his first experience with grief.

He settled for trailing after the other two, enjoying the still-new sights of Paris. Having them both as his guides was incredibly helpful, not least for the language barrier. Not for the first time, he rued his lack of language skills, knowing only the basic conversational phrases taught at school.

It was a lovely language to listen to, he thought, but with each shop they went into he was forced to relay his words through either Michelle or Carlos, unable to have even a basic conversation with anyone. It served to drive home how much he did not know about his true family.

Stuck in his thoughts, he suddenly felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He took it out to see a text from Lovino. Curious, he opened it and read, smiling as he saw the words.

(L): Hey, talk to me, jerk. I'm dying of boredom.

(M): Hello to you to, Lovino. Is class really that boring?

(L): Shut up, jerk. This is history. Your brother is yelling about something.

Matthew winced. While he had nothing particularly against how proud Alfred was of his heritage, it did get incredibly embarrassing when he started yelling about it. Unfortunately, history did tend to increase these outbursts.

(M): Oh dear. Tell him to shut up from me. And apologise to Mr Laurinaitis as well.

(L) Gladly, and no. The old man should give your brother a damn good lecture for once.

: And mine. The little shit won't stop bugging me. What is it about little brothers, huh? I'd slap him, but then he just cries. Stupid fratellino.

Matthew couldn't help a faint smile. Feliciano was not the most attentive student, and unfortunately for him, history was not one of his better subjects.

However, he reflected, it seemed that Lovino was far more focussed on school now. There had been a worry that he would soon slip into his old ways, but rather than losing focus, he seemed to have a renewed determination to succeed.

Matthew privately thought that actually being in class with both of their brothers had simply made Lovino realise that he could easily do far better than them in most academic areas, and likely with little effort. For all his show of inattention, Lovino was actually incredibly intelligent, and it seemed as though he was now beginning to realise that for himself.

(M): I hate to ask this, but is Al taking notes?

(L): What do you think? I can't see his page from here, jerk. He's waving his pencil in the air and staring out of the window. You tell me, genius.

Matthew sighed. He had told Alfred numerous times that he really needed him to take notes for him, or he would be significantly behind when he returned.

(M): I thought so. If you don't mind, could you please ask Mr Laurinaitis to email me the notes from class? I did tell Al to take notes for me, but I suppose I shouldn't have expected him to do it.

(L): Jerk. I'll send you mine. At least then I won't be totally wasting my time here.

(M): Really? That would be wonderful. Thank you.

(L): Don't get any ideas. I'm only doing this because I have nothing else to do. When will you be back?

Matthew hesitated before replying. Realistically, he had no reason to stay much longer after the funeral and reading of the will. And if he was honest with himself, he was beginning to miss home. While he was pleasantly surprised to find that he didn't particularly miss Alfred as much as he thought, rather enjoying the peace and quiet for once, he was eager to get back into the routine that school and practice would bring.

(M): Don't put yourself down, Lovi. You'll be a top student in no time!

But I really don't know when I'll be back. We're in Paris now, while Francis goes to the solicitors. So we'll know more after that. I think my cousin is calling for me now, so I'll ring you later when I know more. Say hi to everyone for me, please?

(L): yeah, yeah. Tell your cousin I would be happy to show her around if she comes back with you, ok?

(M) I hate to say this, Lovi, but I think she's taken. Or will be, soon.

(L): Yeah? Well, she hasn't met me yet. Get lost then, before I get the crap yelled out of me for this. The old man is trying to deal with your brother and I wanna keep it that way.

: but I'll tell them. Now go.

Matthew complied, putting his phone back in his pocket to see Michelle and Carlos walking towards him.

"Hey, Matthew. Look what we got!" Michelle held out a bag to him. He took one look and grinned, seeing the same pastries they had had before.

"Francis will probably scold us for having this before lunch" she said, smiling faintly.

As before, they shared the bag out between them, enjoying the relative peace of the city. Afterwards, they decided to look around a few more of the shops. Michelle seemed to come out of her sadness at the sight of clothes, and spent the remaining time handing things to Matthew with the line that he simply must try it on.

In the end, he came away with what seemed like a ridiculous amount of clothes, but Michelle seemed happy with it, so he decided it was worth it. He felt a twinge of guilt when he handed the credit card over to the cashier, but reasoned that he could always return anything Francis decided was too extravagant.

Knowing him, though, he would only likely take Matthew out again.

Thankfully, Michelle also bought several things for herself, for which Matthew was quite happy to hand the card over to her.

After another hour or so, Carlos had to leave, stating that he had a deadline for his folio and needed to work on it some more. He promised to talk to them both soon. Matthew suspected that Michelle would ask him to come with the funeral with her, for support, and fervently hoped Francis would agree to it.

After that, it was time to return to the car. Francis was already waiting for them when they arrived, although he stressed that he had only just got there himself. Seeing the bags they carried, he smiled.

"Ah, so you did treat yourselves. You will have to show me everything later."

Michelle smiled a little. "I picked it all out for him. Well, he chose some things, but his taste in clothes is terrible! You cannot wear jeans and those awful hoodies all the time, right?"

Francis laughed. "True, mon Cherie. Well, it is not Mattieu's fault he has been ruined by those terrible British fashions. Ah, but now you are in the true city of fashion, you will learn in no time." He winked at Matthew, who frowned playfully.

"But I like hoodies" he protested, joining in. "They're very comfy. And practical."

Francis raised his eyebrows in mock horror. "Ah, you are incorrigible. Matthieu, I will need to educate you. No son of mine is going to dress so terribly. Not when you have such fine teachers here, no?"

So he was going to take him shopping again after all. Oh well. He suspected as much.

"Ok, papa" he said quietly, smiling. Francis returned it, then clapped his hands suddenly.

"Well, we must get going again quickly, or we will never find a table. Leave your bags here and we will go for lunch."

Francis led them through the streets until they reached a small café. Michelle's eyes lit up slightly when they entered, so Matthew assumed it was familiar to her, and Francis' gentle smile at her confirmed it.

"They have the best soup here" she said conspirationally. Francis laughed.

"Let him decide for himself, cherie."

They were led to a table at the back, with a view out of the window. As Matthew couldn't read the menu, he was quite happy to let them both order for him. Francis did so, speaking rapidly to the waiter, then smiled at Matthew.

"Now for a taste of true cuisine, no? I warn you, you will never want to go back to that horrible English stuff again, I tell you."

The food arrived, and Matthew was sure his father was not joking. The soup smelt heavenly, and the first taste confirmed that Francis was a true gastronomic.

His face must have shown his delight, since both Francis and Michelle let out a peal of laughter.

"See, Matthew! We told you!" Michelle giggled for the first time that day, making him look up at her, blushing slightly.

"W-well, it's…do you really eat things like this every day?" he asked, amazed. Of course everything he had had at the house was all delicious, but this was just extraordinary!

"Of course not, silly. I mean, yes, but now you see. The finest food to be found in Paris!" she exclaimed. "Well, maybe not, but it's pretty delicious all the same."

Matthew could only agree wholeheartedly. They ate leisurely, chatting quietly. By unspoken consensus Francis did not say how his visit had gone, and in truth Matthew had no desire to know. He would surely find out later, probably over dinner.

Too soon, it seemed, they finished eating. Francis paid, Michelle having returned his card, and they set off back to the car.

As promised, Matthew showed his father the clothes Michelle had chosen for him. As expected, he was delighted with her choices.

"See? You look wonderful, Matthieu."

Matthew stood in front of the mirror, unsure. Francis stood behind him and placed his hands on his son's shoulders.

"You have a brilliant figure, Matthieu. You simply need the confidence to flaunt it."

Matthew doubted that would ever happen. Objectively, he knew he had a good build. After all, both he and Alfred had honed their bodies with years of sports. They both had the same tall, slender physique, although Alfred had far more muscle than he did, supplementing his practice with working out and training, which Matthew joined in with occasionally. However, while Alfred did like to wear fitting tshirts and jeans, and revelled in the attention it got him, Matthew had always blended into the background, allowing Alfred to take the limelight.

He had to admit, though, his father and cousin had good taste in clothes. Michelle had an eye for fabric and pattern, and had chosen carefully. She had used her own style of a mixture of smart and casual to pick out items that not only flattered his figure, but could also be mixed and matched in potentially endless combinations. She had even allowed him to choose a few pairs of jeans, which were admittedly far more fitted and tailored than anything he would normally have chosen for himself.

All in all, he looked utterly different. He felt a strange smile rise to his face as he stared at his reflection in the mirror.

"Do you like it?"

Francis sounded almost tentative. Matthew looked up at him, feeling his hands tighten slightly on his shoulders.

"Its…different" he replied. "I've never really worn anything like this before." He looked up and down again, turning to the side to see the fit.

"I- I do like it though" he admitted.

Francis beamed at him. "I hoped you would. You have no reason to be shy, Matthieu. After all, good looks run in the family, after all!" He flicked a hand through his hair playfully, making Matthew smile.

They spend the afternoon together, Francis showing him ways of adding accessories to outfits, showing which colours most suited him and how to dress an outfit up or down. Matthew honestly didn't see himself carrying any of it over when he returned to England, but it was always useful to know.

He imagined the reaction he would get at school. To be fair, most of the people in his group of friends were pretty fashionable themselves. Lovino and Feliciano had a typically Italian sense of style, and were generally rather fastidious when it came to clothing. Yong Soo and Leon were the self-appointed fashionistas of their group, helped in no small part by Mei, who loved to make and design her own clothes. Kiku was far more reserved, but was very particular about fit, not least due to his petite, almost feminine frame.

Alfred, of course, was typically modern, dressing mainly in jeans and tshirts, with hoodies flung over the top and his beloved football jacket that Amelia had bought for him on a trip abroad.

It would certainly be interesting, he thought. To come back reinvented, a new person. His lip twisted in a intrigued smile. He would probably still return to his usual habits, but it was certainly something to think about.