Free French Lessons by Georgia Harries

sailing shorts
over the knickers; she dreaded the shame of having to face the world. And at
that very moment, she heard her father calling from the deck above.
    “Eleanor.
Come right up, please. It’s time we had another talk, young lady. Breakfast is
ready.”
    Eleanor
almost started crying again at her father’s stern tone. Hadn’t she been
punished enough?
     
    She
was very hungry though, and the day so beautiful and bright. As she climbed up
deck slowly and walked to the breakfasting table, it was as though Tamara had
read her mind.
    “Now
Harry, let’s not get the day off to a cross start. Eleanor dear, would you like
some coffee? Come and have breakfast.”
    Eleanor
looked around sadly. The wrought iron breakfasting chairs posed a threat she
couldn’t bear to think of.
    “If
it it’s ok, can I please just take my breakfast to my cabin?” she said meekly.
    Harry
wanted to put the whole incident behind them as quickly as possible. But he was
sticking to his word. Eleanor would do exactly as she was told. He was firm,
but quiet.
    “Sit down, Eleanor. I’m more than aware that it won’t be easy for you to do
so. But I did tell you you’d be left with a very sore reminder of what happens
when you disobey. Didn’t I?”  
          
    Eleanor
swallowed hard, determined not to cry. She wondered that she had any tears
left, having sobbed herself to sleep after her chastisement. Tamara leaned over
the table and pulled out the chair for her. It was best to try and be normal.
    “C’mon,
honey. Let’s have a little chat shall we? Then we can get on with enjoying the
rest of this lovely day.”
    Lowering
herself extremely slowly to the chair, Eleanor hung off its edge. She was glad
of the shorts she wore. They allowed a little of the cooling sea breeze to waft
across her thighs. Had they been an inch shorter, the burnished red skin of her
uncomfortably hot backside would have shown a little. As she stirred her coffee
slowly, she wished her father would speak. Harry bit into a slice of apple.
With his other hand, he played softly with Tamara’s.
    “Well,
young lady. What do you have to say for yourself, now that you are having such
trouble sitting down? Isn’t that exactly what you were promised if you
continued to misbehave?”
     
    Despite
her best efforts, fresh tears now pricked Eleanor’s eyes. She shifted her
bottom slightly. Tamara handed her a plate of croissants and jam. She really
was very kind, Eleanor thought.
    “I
know. I’m – I’m sorry Daddy. I really am. But I said I was sorry at the
time! It’s not fair! So horrible and embarrassing! And now my holiday is
ruined!”
    Unable
to ignore the searing throb in her seat, Eleanor burst into tears once more.
Harry sighed heavily and looked at Tamara. She was quick to act. Saying nothing,
she stood up and grabbed Eleanor. She held her close to her tummy and allowed
the teenager to sob.
    “There,
sweetie... it’s really OK. Hush. You let it all go.”
    “Eleanor.
I have told you why – “
    “That’ll
do Harry,” Tamara used a telling–off tone he hadn’t ever heard before as
she stared fixedly into her husband’s eyes.
    “We’ve
all had enough. Now this is girls’ time. Ain’t you gotta little – I don’t
know – fishing you can do?” she jerked her head to one side and made it
plain she wanted rid of him.
    Harry
shrugged and made to leave.   He
turned back only briefly to kiss the top of his wife’s head – and then
firmly, his daughter’s. The return of her gentle giant Daddy made Eleanor weep
even more sorrowfully. Tamara held her tighter and then sat down. Harry
wandered off, awed once more by his wife’s patience and generosity of spirit.
He really was the luckiest man alive.
    Alone
with her stepdaughter at last, Tamara released Eleanor from her hug and put an
arm around her shaking shoulders.
    “Not
so nice is it? Being taken down a peg or two?”
    Eleanor
calmed a little and wiped her eyes with a napkin. Catching one