Chapter 20 - Chapter 20

I sat in the plush seat of the aeroplane. I loved flying, as it gave me a chance to think. Unfortunately, the thoughts were not all that pleasant, as every time I was happy about returning to France, I remembered that she, my father's new wife was going to be there.



We had all dressed quite smartly for going on the plane, as we were travelling first class. Honda and Marc were both in suits, and I was wearing a knee-length dress that was cut in the traditional Chinese style and was a beautiful pale blue, with flowers embroidered on it.



Honda and I had two seats together, and he was happily snoring away in a reclinable position, whilst I was watching one of the in-flight movies, and looking out of the window beside me. Marc was sitting in front of us, and I think he was reclining, snoring AND watching an in-flight movie. Strange boy. Again.



The flight was a long one, and after the film, I too fell asleep, and began to doze in my own little world.



I was awoken by the sound of the pilot speaking to us, and bleary-eyed, I looked out of the window, and saw the beautiful countryside of France below us. Slowly, we began to get closer to the ground, and I nudged Honda awake, and pointed it out to him. We were flying into the airport at Charles de Gaulle, and I had already prepared myself for speaking French. I was hoping Honda had too.



We landed, smoothly and everyone finally managed to get off the plane, and get our luggage. As we went through customs, I walked in front, and I turned to talk to Honda, already speaking, when I noticed he was no longer behind me. In a panic, I spun round, looking in all directions for him. Marc came, and helped me look, and we still couldn't see him. And then we did. He was stuck at customs, gesticulating wildly and speaking a mixture of French and Japanese.



I ran over, to see what was happening. Asking one of the customs men, I felt Honda's gaze, and I knew that he wasn't feeling too good, humiliation and embarrassment burning him from the inside. I spoke to the customs man, and explained that Honda was doing nothing illegal, other than sleeping with an underage (well, in France anyway) girl (well, I didn't say that…but I was thinking it). So after checking our passports, well, both of my passports, as I had a French one and a Japanese one, he let us into the country, and gruffly told us to enjoy our stay.



Next we had to take a train to Toulouse, and then another to a smaller station, and finally, my father would send the car to pick us up, and take us to the summer house by the beach, with the big posh equestrian centre nearby, where I planned to do a lot of competing.



The train ride to Toulouse was long, and busy, and when we got off it I was glad, although the smaller one wasn't much better, filled with tourists and other people, who wanted a day by the beach. When we finally reached the small station, after travelling fro nearly three days, I was just glad to be able to breathe the free fresh air once again. The salt caught on my lips, and I licked it off, enjoying the smell of the sea air, and the thought that in a few hours, I could be enjoying the warmth of the sea, although I would rather sleep first.



The car was there and waiting, as father had promised, and we all slid into it, Marc in the front passenger seat, and Honda and I in the back, whilst the driver loaded the luggage we had been lugging around for what felt ages. I settled into the leather seats, and took a deep breath. It was a new car, and it smelt like it. Honda was admiring it, appreciatively. I gave him a teasing look, and said jokingly, “Is it a Honda?”



He hit me playfully, and we had a play fight, until Marc told us to grow up, sounding bored. Stupid older brother. Honda settled back into the seat, and I rested my head on his shoulder, as the car pulled out of the small car park, and into a small road. The journey was quite a short one, but enough to take us away from any civilisation, and I enjoyed the drive along the coast, my heart only stopping when we came into the sight if the house.



It wasn't as big as the other house, but big enough, with its whitewashed walls, and slate roof. The house was old, with the original diagonally lead-piped windows and green wooden shutters that were firmly fixed back, until close of day. It was a squarish house, apart from the southern wing, which curved into a circular tower, although it wasn't that big. This was my part of the house, with its small windows, and wisteria and creeper coloured walls that looked amazing, even at this time of the year.



We all walked through the large front door, the driver bringing in the luggage, once again, and Marc called our for our father, Jonothan, to say that we were here. Finally, after what felt like ages, he came. Honda had gone for a wee somewhere, so I t was just Marc and I, and although he greeted us fondly enough, I was not feeling totally the same way. Father had just asked where my friend was, or if she hadn't come, when Honda walked in, and I spoke, “Father, this is my friend, my boyfriend, Honda.” I turned to Honda, “I'd like you to meet my father, Jonothan Osculaix.” They awkwardly shook hands, and I tried to smile encouragingly at Honda, but it became more of a grimace.



Then I heard the sound of stilettos, and I looked up, to see a shot, thin, blonde woman. Her. “Bonjour, Angelicque,” I greeted her formerly, and kissed her on each cheek, although she simply glared at me. She then greeted Marc, simpering how handsome he was. I was going to be sick.



“Little Luca is asleep at the moment, but he was so looking forward to meeting his big brother, he will be so happy to see you later.” I noticed that I wasn't mentioned. And also that she had ignored Honda. So I put emphasis on it.



“This is my boyfriend, Honda, Angelicque.”



She laughed, a pathetic sound, “Aren't you a little too young for a boyfriend.”



“Your brother didn't complain.”



She laughed nervously, “what brother? I have no brother.” She looked at my father, but he didn't seem to notice, before she turned her vindictive eyes on me once again.



Before she could speak, I did, “I am tired. I am going to bed.” Brat mode had automatically come back to me, and I was going to become exactly the spoilt dog she thought I was. I picked up my suitcase, and made my way to my wing of the house, Honda docilely following me.



“Honda, your room is this way?” that stupid voice again.



I spun around, my eyes flashing, “Oh, don't worry we'll share.”



Honda looked between us, and then followed me once more, leaving my brother, father and stepmother standing there uncertainly.



I was the only one who had a key for my part of the house, other than the servants, who cleaned when we were away, so I was glad that it kept my family out. I pulled the key out of my pocket, having put it there in preparation earlier (I was now in jeans, changing when on the train, as I was filthy). The door swung open, to reveal a well lit circular room, with a sofa fitted on one wall, and an open fire on part of the wall. There were large bookcases, and a wrought iron spiral staircase, which went up the middle, and right to the top floor, where the bed was (three floors in all).



I went up the stairs, Honda still following on behind, and walked through the second room, in which there was a piano, and a computer and desk, another sofa (although smaller), and a TV, with a huge collection of DVDs beside it. Up another flight, and we were in my room.



The ceiling was midnight blue, with start constellations painted all over it. The other cylindrical walls were painted a blank white, and the only windows were slight slits in the walls, that let in a little light, but not much. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, modern and made of lots of little wires with tiny lights on the end of each.



The staircase came up in the centre of the room, and ended in a beautiful balustrade, and the bed lay to the left of it. It was large, and another wrought iron bed, this time weathered and white, although still four-poster. It had a plain white duvet, and pillows, and looked so innocent, and pure.



I walked across the varnished wooden floor to the bed, and pulling off my shoes, I climbed onto it, pulling the duvet over the top of me. I think I was asleep before Honda had even sat down on the bed.

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