Free La Suite by M. P. Franck Page B

mass of passengers hurrying to get home.
    Gaëlle and
James became separated in the course of the disembarkation and
Gaëlle was about to step up onto the landing stage when again she
felt a tug on her arm. The little old lady of the morning was
seeking her assistance again. Gaëlle smiled and supported her as
she got off the boat.
    Once off the
boat, though, the old lady didn’t let go, talking volubly. Gaëlle
looked down at her, unable to decipher the heavy accent and patois.
The old lady paused, then pointed significantly to her eyes. She
took hold of Gaëlle’s hand and gave it a sharp tap, then stroked
the skin gently. She spoke slowly. Gaëlle guessed that she didn’t
often speak standard Italian, “Ti ho visto fare. Sei una ragazza
cattiva…però anche una donna molto brava,” she said, with a wicked
smile as she turned and waddled off. Gaëlle stood for a moment,
working out the words. Then she laughed out loud.
    “ So,” she
said to Jérôme later that evening, “The old girl saw everything.
And it appears that I’m a wicked girl but a very nice
lady.”
    “ I couldn’t
have put it better myself,” he said. “And that explains why, as I
was coming back to our room, Little Miss Shopping was dragging her
case past reception on her own, with a face that would have curdled
fresh milk.”
    “ James
wasn’t with her?”
    “ No, but I
saw him a bit later. I wondered why he looked embarrassed as he
said goodbye.”
    “ Well, now
you know!”

Chapter
Eleven
     
     
    “Hey! Come
back!” Gabi’s voice interrupted Gaëlle’s memories. “And what do you
mean, cattiva? Who’s naughty?”
    Gaëlle dragged
herself back to reality, a very pleasant reality, she had to admit,
sitting opposite a very attractive young woman who was not wearing
much in the way of clothes. She must have been muttering the
Italian to herself, she realized.
    “Sorry, Gabi,”
she said. “I was just remembering something someone said, once upon
a time. I’m used to being on my own quite a lot and you’ll have to
forgive me if I sometimes talk to myself.”
    “Judging by the
smile on your face, I’d bet that you were the one who was being
naughty,” Gabi commented. “I hope I’ll get to hear about it!”
    “Um. We’ll see.
Patience, Gabi”
    “Okay. I can
afford to wait. But don’t go thinking I’ll forget! Finish your
food.”
    When the table
was looking rather empty, Gaëlle sat back and looked Gabi in the
eye.
    “I have to ask,
where do we go from here, Gabi? You’ve been very good for me and
I’m enjoying the time we spend together, but what’s in it for
you?”
    Gabi sat back
and dabbed her lips with the napkin.
    “Right now,”
she began, “what I would really like, Gaëlle, is for you to tell me
about this fantastic sex life I’m convinced you’ve lived.”
    “You do come
straight to the point, don’t you?” Gaëlle said, stunned.
    “When it’s
necessary, yes. I do. I learned it from you.”
    “So. What do
you want me to tell you?”
    “Well…Where
shall I start? I don’t know. For example, do you have a bare
pussy?”
    Gaëlle gasped,
then laughed out loud. “What a question! But no, I don’t.”
    “Never tried
it? Just to see how it feels?”
    “If you want to
know how it feels, you do it!” Gaëlle exclaimed. It wasn’t an
answer, but it served the purpose of side-tracking Gabi.
    “I do know. I
pinched your razor while I was showering. Look.”
    Gabi pushed her
chair back and lifted the tee-shirt, revealing the white knickers
borrowed from Gaëlle. She pulled them to one side. The skin was
bare and the cleft of her sex was exposed. Just above it was a
small tattoo of a butterfly.
    “You see?” Gabi
said peering down. “If I let the hair grow for too long, poor
butterfly can’t breathe and isn’t happy, so I have to give him some
air from time to time.”
    “You’re so
funny, Gabi. Sexy and funny and lovely. Why are you so nice to me?”
Gaëlle asked, to take her mind off the