Date: Sun, 17 Nov 2013 11:12:16 +1300 From: bob charles Subject: Washed Up (Gay / Young friends) chapter 22 Washed Up Disclaimer: Warning: this story contains sexual content, contact between young boys, and other themes that may offend. If the subject matter offends you, is not to your tastes, or if you are under legal age for your area, then find something else to read. In the following story all names and events are completely fictional. Although I may mention a specific location, place, or person any resemblance to said people, location, or places is completely unintentional. Chapter 22: Mum lets the van gently idle away for a few minutes, while she gives her own prayer and blessing to the spot. She feels that it is something she should do, given she is the mother to the other half of the family. Pierre and François both appreciate the thought, especially because it shows the unity of the two families for once and for all. I am thrilled with it too, because it shows that she has fully accepted our relationship, otherwise she would never have done such a thing. After that mum slowly and respectfully starts to accelerate the van away from the spot and merge back onto the road. She does so with absolute grace and the utmost respect to the deadly site, and she also makes sure that she does it safely because she doesn't want to cause another major accident here. Pierre and I turn around and look out the back window, watching the white cross get smaller and smaller, before it finally disappears. It is a strange sight seeing this lone white cross on such a long straight road, but I suppose that is the way life works out at times. Once the cross has disappeared, we turn back around to sit in our seats properly and embrace each other in a loving hug. ************ Sure enough, like Pierre had told me all that time ago, we hit the outskirts of Avignon a little over two kilometres further down the road. We make easy work passing through the outermost suburbs, but the journey slows down dramatically the closer to the centre of the city we get. The traffic isn't as bad as it was in Nimes, but due to there only being a couple of bridges over the Rhone River from this side, traffic banks up close to the old city. "My old house used to be in this neighbourhood," Pierre says, while we are going through a pretty opulent area on the west bank of the river. The suburb is beautiful, with tree lined streets, beautifully manicured yards and grass verges. The sidewalks are all in pristine condition and there isn't a piece of rubbish to be seen. The houses are all old mansion style housing, but are all in immaculate condition due to the tireless efforts of the owners to ensure they don't show any signs of deterioration. It is an area where I would be perfectly happy to live in, but then again I don't like the snobby feel to the place, because that isn't me. Having said that, there is nothing snobby about Pierre, so maybe I am jumping to conclusions about the people who live here. I have never seen such an immaculately kept area before, which is why I assumed the residents must be snobby, but I suppose showing the pride of the area you live in is easier to achieve if you have the money. That is what the residents want to show off - how much they love living here. "Whereabouts did you live?" I ask, hoping that mum can hear us from the front and take a tiki-tour past his old house. "I'm not sure exactly, but I know it was right beside the river," he replies a bit sheepishly, because he is a little embarrassed that he doesn't remember how to get to his old house. "Don't worry about not remembering, because I can't remember the way to where we used to live in Auckland either," I tell him, a little dejectedly because I was hoping to see his old house, but I am aware how easy it is to forget things like that when they are no longer relevant. "Wait, it is somewhere down this street!" Pierre exclaims excitedly, after mum has turned off the main road and onto a beautiful tree lined suburban street. I'm sure at this stage that mum and François had nutted out where Pierre's old house was before we set off this morning, and are now going to take us past it. I am looking eagerly out the window on the side which I think the river is on, waiting expectantly for Pierre to point out his house. I have full confidence he will know which one it is now, because he knows we are on the right street. "There it is, that's my old house!" Pierre shouts, once he finally spots it. It is a beautiful old square shaped mansion made from grey concrete block. It is a two to three storey building, I say three because the roof looks like it housed old servants quarters or something, because there are three doghouse dormers built out from the roof. The bottom floor has massive windows with cream coloured shutters on them, in the open position to allow the sunlight into the building. There looks to be a decent size patio around the base of the house, which has a beautifully crafted concrete balustrade around it. The driveway is gravel and goes all the way up to the steps in front of the house and patio. The sides of the drive are lined with small immaculately manicured topiary hedges, which have been shaped to look like a big long square border to the drive. The house looks grand and inviting, but I won't get to see the inside of it because we don't know the people who live there. None of us are willing to knock on the door to see whether they will allow us to look around the place, because it seems inconsiderate and intrusive to the owners. Mum doesn't stop anyway. All she does is slow down to a crawl while we pass his old house, then she speeds up again, goes around the block, and back towards the main road. Once back on the main road, we continue towards the city. It doesn't take us too long, despite the heavy traffic crossing the bridge into the centre. The city's skyline looks spectacular, but old, as it comes into view while we are crossing the Rhone River towards it. The river is perfectly still which means there is a picture perfect reflection of the skyline in it. The scene is short lived since we make it across the river and into the main part of the city. Once across the river we follow the road along its east bank, which looks just as spectacular on this side. The mansions, trees and bushes create a beautiful reflection on the water's surface, making me wish I could just lie on the river bank with Pierre in my arms, wasting the day away while we enjoy the tranquil beauty of the area. We drive along the side of the river for a while, passing another bridge along the way. When we finally make a turn, the reason for the long excursion becomes apparent. The old city is still protected by the stunning ramparts of an old wall. The road runs directly in between two turrets, which along with the rest of the wall, has battlements installed in them. The wall is worn and weathered but in a remarkable state of preservation and it looks impressive to me, because I have never seen fortifications like these up close. We enter the old city through the gap between the turrets and take the relatively short drive to the hotel we will be staying at. The hotel doesn't look too impressive from the outside. All it looks like is another old terraced building in a string of them, but it sits on the corner at the end of the row of terraces. The only indication that it is a hotel is the neon sign saying so, hanging off the side of the building. The building is four storeys high, but the bottom floor looks more like a shop front than a hotel. Like most residential buildings I have noticed in France, it has shutters on the windows. The façade of the building is made from greyish white stonework, but the side of the building looks like it has had the stonework plastered over and is a creamy sort of colour, with an orange tinge to it, but that could all be down to the way the sun is shining on it. It is the other side of the road which the reason for mum choosing this hotel is obvious. There is a huge pedestrianized courtyard, full of people walking, taking photos; there are also joggers running their way along the courtyard, and skateboarders attempting to do tricks on the immense paved area. It is a hive of activity, with trees in planter boxes adding a bit of much needed shade to those who are cooking in the late afternoon heat. Beyond the courtyard is the real reason for the hotel being situated here. There is a huge medieval looking castle-like structure, standing in all its imposing glory like it was built yesterday. I can imagine how daunting the task of attacking the fortification must have been all those years ago, because it still looks as formidable today as it must have looked back then. The structure is huge and long; it almost looks like a mishmash of different styles, but it is still an awesome looking building all the same. Beside the castle-looking building is another glorious example of medieval architecture in the form of a large stone cathedral. In front of the building is a glorious statue of Christ on the cross, with a couple of people praying to him at his feet. The façade of the building is tall, almost like it is trying to compete with the castle next door, but high up in the top of the cathedral is a gold statue, which looks like it is of the Virgin Mary. The whole structure must have been built on a hill, because in front is a beautiful high stone wall, with an elegant flight of steps leading up to it on both sides. At the far end of the huge sprawling courtyard is another building, this time much smaller in scale than the other two, but a beautiful building all the same. It looks like a mini castle, but unlike the enormous one, this one keeps to the same style of architecture all the way through. It is a square castle complete with battlements in the roof, and mini turrets on the corners. In the middle of the front wall high up towards the top is a coat of arms, which has been skilfully crafted into the stonework. The whole area has me bursting at the seams in excitement, wanting to jump out of the van and explore, but I realise that it will be something we will do tomorrow because it is now too late in the day. That thought still isn't enough to curb my excitement and I'm not the only one feeling that way either. Pierre is as excited as me, and proud to be back in his home town so that he can share his knowledge. I think everyone is as excited as I am, because this is the first time during our trip that we have had so much to see and do, literally on the doorstep of the hotel we are staying in. The place also has a buzz in the air, which feeds our enthusiasm and excitement about exploring and experiencing the area and culture. Then once we have finished here, we still have the rest of Avignon's old city to explore, so I can't wait! Mum parks the van and kills the engine, while we all pile out and collect our bags as quickly as we can. We are instantly hit by a blast of dry hot air, because inside the van it had been cool due to the air conditioner running since we left the Pont du Gard. The day is perfectly still, but stifling hot given how late in the day it is, although it doesn't do anything to kill our mood. We are all excitedly chatting away between ourselves, while mum leads the way to the hotel. Once inside the hotel lobby, I discover why the ground floor looks more like a shop front than a hotel, and that is because just off to the side through a set of double doors is a small cosy restaurant. I'm thrilled to see that because I am starting to feel hungry, but best of all is that it means we don't have to walk around aimlessly in search of somewhere to eat. Mum heads to the reception counter to check us in. Thankfully she had pre-planned this, so has booked in advance. Well, as far ahead as she was able to, but even then she took a big risk that Pierre and I may still have been in hospital; luckily we aren't so our rooms are available for us. What surprises me though, is that mum pays for the three nights she plans for us to stay, herself. She has decided not to charge the French government for the remainder of our holiday, because she feels that they have done enough for us and she doesn't want to take advantage of them. Once the rooms are paid for, mum gets handed the keys and the lady behind the counter tells her where we can locate our rooms. Yet again we are on the top storey, or the fourth floor of this particular hotel. I don't have any problem with being at the top of the building, but I do wish it had a lift so we don't have to walk up so many flights of stairs, especially while we are carrying our bags. That is the joy of these older buildings though, because few of them have modern technology such as elevators installed in them, due to the high cost of doing so. The climb up the stairs is exceedingly taxing due to everything else we have done today, and the fact that neither Pierre nor I have all our stamina back after such a long stay in hospital. In the end we make it to the top after a huge struggle, but we are so tired that we almost collapse there on the spot. We are both leaning against each other in order to hold the other upright, but even that is hard work. Mum kindly unlocks the door to our room and opens it for us, after seeing how tired we have become from the climb up the stairs. She feels a little guilty because she had specifically asked for top floor rooms, not thinking about how hard it was going to be on Pierre and me, until we have fully recovered from such a long stay in hospital. Too late to worry about that now, so mum has decided to try and make things as easy as possible for us in the meantime. We stagger from the top of the stairs, down the hallway and into our room. We drop our bags pretty much the same instant we make it into the room, and continue to stagger over to the bed and flop down on it. I remember feeling around for Pierre and pulling him into me, but that is about it due to falling headlong into the wonderful world of sleep. "Do you want to wake them, or should I?" a hushed high pitched voice says. "Um... I don't know... they look so cute together," replies another boyish high pitched voice, also trying to be as quiet as possible. "But mum said we got to, cos it's time for dinner," the first voice counters. "Um... I still don't wanna... but if we must... maybe we should both jump on their bed, cos that will wake them," the second voice replies, before the two boys climb onto the bed and start jumping around, and making clowns of themselves while they are doing so, because they are having more fun jumping on the bed than they are waking us up. "Huh...? Agghh ... what the hell do you two think you are doing?" I groggily ask the two boys , while I am still trying to wake up. The boys, picking up on the pissed off tone in my voice, stop jumping around and sit down nicely on the bed. "Mum says you gotta get up, cos we are having dinner soon," Callum says, whilst trying desperately to calm his excitement levels down. "Tell her we don't want anything," I tell them sleepily, before reaching over to Pierre and pulling him back into me, then burying my head in the pillow and trying to go back to sleep. "What do we do now...? Do we try wake them again?" Manuel asks. Both boys are a bit confused now, because they have been told by someone to wake us up for dinner, but now I have told them I don't want any, so they are unsure who to listen to. They both climb off the bed and head out to the doorway. "Mum, what do you want us to do, cos they don't want food? They want to sleep instead!" Callum yells down the hallway, not thinking about anyone else who could potentially be staying on this floor. "Don't worry about it, I'll try and bring them something back once we have finished, because they need to eat. I'm not going to force them to come back downstairs with us," mum replies, but she has the decency to think about anyone else who maybe in their rooms, so goes out into the hallway and tells the boys more quietly. One of the boys then closes the door to our room, and takes the key out of the lock to give to mum. While they go and have dinner Pierre and I continue to sleep blissfully while we try to recover from the taxing day we have had. The part which has tired me out the most was when I lived through Pierre's accident, because it was so real, like I was in the car during the event. I swear I felt everything that Pierre had during the horrific event, and it has fully taken its toll on me. For Pierre, the whole emotional rollercoaster has been too much for him, because at the start of the day he couldn't remember anything about the deaths of either of his parents, but now he has relived one of the horrible events all over again. He is glad that his memories of important events like that are coming back to him, but he knows he has still more heartache to endure while he recovers other lost memories. He knows that something horrific has also happened to his father, but at this stage all memory of the event is a black hole, almost like a time lapse. His memory goes straight from the car accident which killed his mum, to the happy days at Taupo Bay with me and Callum. It also leaps that awful day when he got so rudely taken from us, to the day when we finally found him again in Vichy. All in all he still has large chunks of the past missing from his mind, but it will come back, I'm sure of that. In my sleep I start to get flashbacks again, and at the same time I become aware that I seem to be getting gently rocked from side to side. My mind struggles with the idea of awakening, whilst it is still trying to piece together these flashing images which keep popping up in my head. The rocking seems to become more frantic, which makes it harder for my brain to piece things together, so I slowly start to waken. "Come on you two sleepy heads, you need to have something to eat before it gets cold," the soft soothing voice of my mother is saying. She has been saying the same thing over and over, but it is the first time I've heard it due to my mind being otherwise occupied. As it is, my mind is slow to come to terms with the real world, and my eyes refuse to focus as well. I feel all washed out, like I haven't had any sleep for days, because the flashing images in my head have made my mind concentrate more than it should have while I was supposed to be sleeping. Gradually everything starts to clear and I awaken enough to focus, but as I look over to Pierre I can see he is in the same state as I am. He looks totally shattered like he hasn't had any proper sleep either, but what worries me more is he is white as a ghost. It is almost like he has seen something that has scared the shit out of him. I'm not sure that it is the case because I would have expected to have seen, or at least felt the pain he was going through, so I assume he is suffering worse than I am from the bad sleep we had. Once we have both awoken enough to be able to sit up and hold something, mum hands us our food. Whilst we are slowly eating it, not really enjoying it like we normally would due to being too tired, mum explains how difficult it had been to get the restaurant to allow them to take out a meal for us. Mum ended up having to explain to the waitress in the restaurant what we had been through, in order to convince her to allow them to takeaway a meal for us, but even then it took close to the full story to convince her enough we were worthy of such an honour. It seems so strange knowing how much persuasion it took mum to convince them that it will be all right for us to have our food in the hotel room. The worst part is despite the effort mum had to get it; we still don't enjoy it like we should be. It is a struggle to eat the food, which is probably some of the nicest we have had, but our minds want to go back to sleep so they aren't processing the different flavours of the dish like they should. The food takes forever to eat because our jaws are slow at chewing up the food in our mouths, but we eventually finish it and mum takes our plates. She then gives us both a kiss on the forehead and ruffles our hair, before leaving the key to the room on the bedside table and leaving the room. Once she has closed the door, I decide that we should at least shed our clothes and get under the covers before going back to sleep. It is a huge struggle trying to get my co-ordination working enough to remove my clothes, and all I have on is a shirt and shorts, but Pierre has a bigger struggle than me, as he has a singlet on. Eventually we manage to remove our clothes and crawl under the covers. We embrace each other in a clumsy and awkward hug, because our co-ordination is right up the shit, before drifting back off to sleep. We are both out in a flash, back into a deep sleep, but it doesn't turn out to be a very refreshing one. The moment I fall in a deep sleep again, those images come back. They seem to haunt and toy with me, while they piece themselves together. I know I am experiencing what Pierre is, as his mind tries to recall other lost information, but I wish it would stop because I am tired enough as it is. The pieces of information flashing past in my head make no sense to me at all, but at the same time they look oddly familiar. The jumbled order of everything is why I can't understand what it is about, but as the fragments of information piece themselves together the whole scene becomes crystal clear. Suddenly it all makes sense, as the images all link together properly to create a crystal clear vision of the event that is unfolding. I feel my heart getting ripped out and stamped into the ground all over again, as I see myself screaming at Pierre not to let them take him away. It is strange because like the accident, I am reliving the whole event through Pierre's eyes, almost like I am him. *** I can feel myself struggling against the evil men who are trying to take me, but despite how much I struggle I can't get free. It is agony watching the only person who means anything to me struggling against his mum, as he desperately tries to save me. I feel hopeless and betrayed when I am bundled into the back of the car and the door is slammed closed. I fumble for the handle and yank desperately on it, trying to open the door to escape, but it doesn't open. I yank on the handle harder and harder but the door still won't open. The kiddie lock has been set on the door preventing it from being opened from the inside, and as the sudden realisation dawns on me I feel all hope fade and fall into despair. The car starts up and starts to move, so I look out the back window, tears streaming from my eyes, as I watch what should have been a happy new life disappear right in front of me. I feel lost and soulless as the love of my life disappears forever. I can't see anything good coming from this, just a life of misery while I rue this day for the rest of my life. It is the most horrible I have ever felt, worse than when I lost my mum or dad, so I don't see any upside to this at all. I hardly notice the long journey to the airport in Auckland, because I am too caught up in my depression to take notice of anything. My mind is blank, surrounded by a thick black fog, which in turn has rendered my emotions null and void. I feel nothing, no pain, no sorrow, not happy or sad. I literally feel no emotion whatsoever. I am escorted out of the car and into the airport. This time the officials take no chances and restrain me all the way, until we get to the child services people. After a brief handover I am restrained again by them and escorted through customs and immigration and straight onto a plane. The whole process goes smoothly and quickly, because I offer no resistance due to not mentally being with my body. I am so deep into my depression that I physically can't feel any part of my body, it is like I'm not even connected to it, but I'm not floating high above the clouds either, because I definitely am not in a euphoric mood. Even in the grief I went through as a result of the loss of my parents, I have never experienced such a deep depression as I am in now. During the flight I try to sleep numerous times, but I keep experiencing the same nightmare over and over again. I can't for the life of me picture what the nightmare is about, but every time I wake I end up gasping desperately for breath, almost like I have been getting suffocated or something. It scares the shit out of me, and it stops me trying to sleep again for a while. That is about the only emotion I have felt in a while, fear, because all other emotions cease to exist. It is a surreal feeling having no emotions, because it feels like I no longer exist any more, I am here in body but not in mind. I know I don't have a heart any more, because that is in pieces and trampled into the dirt back in Taupo Bay. The plane finally lands after an agonizingly slow trip, and all the passengers disembark, before I am again escorted off under restraint. Again I go through immigration and customs quickly, but I don't notice anything. I am whipped away into a waiting car, and taken straight from the airport to the train station, where I am escorted onto the next train to Vichy. Again I make the mistake of trying to sleep during the trip, but it is short lived as I am woken with a start, gasping for breath from the traumatic nightmare I have had. This time my body is trembling uncontrollably from the distress caused by the nightmare. It is the first time I have felt or noticed my body doing anything since leaving Taupo Bay, but I'm not sure it is a good thing. I continue to not feel any real emotion during the whole trip to Vichy, let alone notice anything that is going on around me. Once the train reaches Vichy I am again escorted off the train, but not so much restrained this time, more helped along because my body refuses to co-operate in any way. The child services agents hand me over to my uncle who is standing on the platform waiting for me. The man immediately embraces my lifeless body, which brings me back to reality. All the feelings I have been bottling up start to bubble up to the surface, before finally overflowing as I lose control. There is something safe and comforting about my uncle's hug, and even though I have hardly met the man I seem to know him like he has been part of my life forever. The dam bursts and I bawl my eyes out while I hold onto the man for dear life. I don't ever want to let him go, because with him I at least have somebody in my wretched life. I wish all the emotions had stayed bottled up, so that I felt nothing at all, because now I feel terrible all over again. I feel worse than hell, like nothing I have ever felt so I can't compare it to anything. In some ways I feel like a monstrous black hole has swallowed me up, and I'm neither here nor there. I feel lost without my special someone with me, and angry because I don't know if I will ever see him again. I am in the pits of hell and I don't see any way out. The only thing I can do which helps me in any way is cry, but that doesn't do a lot to improve my mood. My uncle gently escorts me to his house, which doesn't seem like too long a walk, but then again my mind is elsewhere. Once inside, my uncle shows me around the place, but I pay little attention. The only thing I hear is when he points out my bed, because that is all I want, so I can curl up and hide away from the world and spend the rest of my life in misery. My uncle comes to check on me regularly, but each time he hugs me I don't respond to him. I want him to leave me alone so that I can be depressed and miserable for the rest of my life. There is only one person I want, but I am unable to get to him. I refuse to eat anything, because I don't have much of an appetite and I also am at the stage where I want to die, so starving myself seems like the best option. If I can't get what I want then I want to die, so I don't take anything my uncle offers me, no food, no drink and definitely no medication. I lie on the bed curled up into a ball crying to myself. Every now and then I cry myself to sleep, but get woken abruptly by that same nightmare again. This keeps going on until the middle of the next day, in which I have that same nightmare again, but this time I don't wake. My plan to starve myself fails miserably, because I wake up in hospital connected to all sorts of drips and wires. My uncle is with me, with a scared shitless expression all over his face. He has been by my side worrying like hell for the whole six days I have been unconscious. He has no idea what has happened, but he is also very concerned about the level of depression I'm in. The doctors don't help him out either, because they are stumped about why I stopped breathing and they can't do a lot for my depression either, unless I'm willing to accept help. My brain screams at me to accept the help, but I can't hear it because I am too immersed in the flashback I roll over on my side, inadvertently disconnecting some of the electrodes in the process. I don't want to hear what the doctor, or my uncle has to say, because there is no saving me. I don't want help because it won't get me what I truly need. I want to stay in my depression because I don't believe I will ever be happy again. The thought of being happy makes me feel inconsolate, because I know my lover will be as miserable as I am. They keep me in hospital for another four days to monitor me and try to find a cause for why I stopped breathing the way I had. They never do find a cause, and decide that it must be a psychological problem, but with me refusing to talk to anyone there is little the hospital can do for me, so they send me home. During my time with my uncle I slowly come out of my depression enough to talk, but I never say much and it is usually the same thing over and over again. I tell my uncle about the love I found in New Zealand, but each time I say it I end up breaking down again. Every time I bring up what I have lost I fall deep back into my depression again, and won't say another word for at least a couple of days. I have those god awful nightmares every time I try to sleep, which means that as the days and weeks wear on I get so tired I struggle to stay awake, despite knowing I will be horribly woken again in about twenty minutes. I can't keep myself awake no matter how hard I try. About a week and a half after being released from hospital it all goes horribly wrong and I end up back in hospital again. Like every night that I have been here, I try in desperation to stay awake until the morning, because I'm too scared to sleep due to the horrible dreams that keep plaguing me. The deep black hole of depression I am in helps me to stay awake, due to the way it messes up my sleeping patterns, but the lack of sleep inevitably catches up. I last until the wee small hours of the morning before I crash. The same horrible nightmare terrorises me while I try to sleep, but this time it ends abruptly and everything goes black, like pitch black as if nothing exists. The world becomes totally silent and all the pain I have been feeling evaporates. I feel non-existent like I'm no longer part of anything. I feel detached from my body and like I'm floating in the sea of darkness far away from everything and anything. Then next thing I feel is a thumping headache and my body feels beaten up all over. I can't understand why I am feeling this way, because I know that I haven't taken any kind of fall. Even if I fell out of bed it wouldn't explain the way I'm feeling, because I have been sleeping on a mattress on the ground. That is what I am feeling like though, like I have had a bad fall and smashed up my body pretty good. *** The images then start to disintegrate, and I can feel myself awakening. I feel like I am sleeping in a pool of water, and the skin on my body also feels saturated. I have lost contact with Pierre at some stage during the dream due to the tossing and turning I was doing. My body is also shaking uncontrollably and my heart is racing. I know I have to hold Pierre, because I realise that he will be in the same state. My mind for some reason is thinking perfectly clearly, despite the fact that I'm not fully awake. I still haven't opened my eyes, so I grope around trying to find Pierre. I find him easily enough curled up towards the edge of the bed, but I am sure he is also whimpering. I grab his sweat soaked body, pull him into me and embrace him in a tight loving hug. He is shaking like a leaf, well, at least I think it is him because my body is also trembling. I open my eyes to look over him, but they are too out of focus. Being in a hug with him, gets my body to stop shaking and my heart rate to return to normal. Pierre has latched onto me like his life depends on me, while he cries into my shoulder. His body is also starting to calm down, but because the memories seem fresh to him, it takes him a while longer. While my mind is thinking clearly, I start to realise just what has happened. Pierre's hospital visit seems to coincide with the ones I had while we were separated. It seems to me that I am responsible for Pierre ending up in hospital, well, me and Sarah, because she inadvertently caused my first visit. The other thing that has become apparent after living that whole saga again through his eyes, is just how much Callum did for me, because Pierre's depression was a lot darker than what I went through. My moment of clarity is short lived, as all the emotional and physical stress my brain has been under starts to take control again. I quickly go from feeling alive and clearheaded, to completely shattered and struggling to stay awake. The whole thing has been too much for Pierre as well, because he is sound asleep with his head still buried in my shoulder. It doesn't take me long before I follow him to the sweet land of slumber. We get woken the next morning by a soft, but repetitive knocking on the door. It takes a while for either of use to register the noise, and it takes even longer for either of us to awaken enough to do anything about it. Surprisingly we did get a good sleep, even after the dream which woke us up, but that is probably because we have slept in till the late hours of the morning. I notice this when I see the time on the alarm clock which is on the bedside table, as I roll out of bed in order to answer the door. I decide to do the polite thing and pull on my shorts from yesterday, before heading over to the door to open it. The problem I have is my shorts are made from a pretty flimsy material, so they make an obvious tent because of my morning glory pressing up against the fabric. I try to readjust it so that it isn't quite so obvious before opening the door, but it doesn't work so I give in. I'm not entirely sure who to expect on the other side, but I know that it won't be Callum or Manuel because the knocking has been too quiet and patient for either of them. "Good morning, when you two are ready we will go across the road and have a look at the palace," mum says, once I have opened the door. I am a little surprised to see her here, because I usually don't attribute patience with my mother, but she has again shown me a side of her I didn't know existed. "Ok... um do we have time for a shower?" I ask. "Yes, take your time because we are in no rush to do anything today," mum replies, which almost knocks me for six, because she is always in a rush to do things and we are always holding her up, but what else is astounding is she hasn't mentioned a word about us sleeping in so late. Mum disappears after that, leaving me to close the door feeling a bit baffled by the whole thing. I can't understand why she made the effort to wake us, if there isn't an urgent need for us to be ready. It doesn't make any sense to me, but it is mum and she has her own agenda at times. I have a feeling there is more to it than she is making out but I have no idea what the hell it could be. I give up worrying about it and head back to the bed. Pierre is still lying there under the covers, but he has been watching me the whole time. He knows what is going on and that there is no rush to do anything, so he hasn't bothered to move at all. I have other plans though, so I take hold of his hand and pull him out of bed. Once I have him standing I place my lips against his and kiss him lovingly, while I hug his naked body and stroke his back. I can feel electricity arcing between our lips moments before they meet, and it feels so totally magical once they are together and we are engaged in a beautiful tender kiss. The world melts around me as I become one with my lover and express what we feel for each other in the most tender and caring way. Even though its moments like this I treasure the most, I keep the kiss relatively short, because I'm really looking forward to exploring and I also have other plans in mind. The electrical arcing returns as our lips separate, but this time it gets replaced by a feeling of longing and disappointment, because we both want to continue to express our love, even though we know we have plenty of time to do that later. Pierre, knowing what we are going to be doing next, decides to ensure I am prepared for it. Without any warning he releases me from his hold, reaches down, takes hold of my shorts by the legs, and yanks them all the way down to my ankles. Thankfully he does it too quick for me to react in any way because I wasn't expecting it, and was about to wander off towards the bathroom, so because of his incidental warning I am able to step out of them without tripping. He takes my hand while we make our way to the bathroom for a much needed shower. We are both feeling grimy and yucky all over, especially after having woken up soaked in sweat last night due to having that recollection of Pierre's past, so we are both looking forward to the warm clean water cleansing our bodies of the filth. Entering the bathroom I finally start to realise that I haven't paid much attention to any of the details of the hotel, due to being too tired or otherwise occupied. The bathroom grabs my attention the moment I walk into it. It is a small room, which I suppose is to be expected given the age of the building, but it is pretty stunning with the way it has been decorated. The lemon coloured vanity is rectangular in shape, but it has a curved front edge to it to allow for the shape of the basin. Underneath are two arches which act as cupboards, but without any sort of door or curtain over them to hide away the contents. Above the vanity is a standard sized bathroom mirror, which has a little light on each side of it towards the top corner. The taps for the basin are recessed into the wall, but are easily accessible due to the big cut-out arch around it. Directly beside the vanity is a small bath, which is of the same colour. The unusual feature about the bath, because I have never seen it before, is that the end away from the wall has a high back on it. The splash backs for both bath and sink are the same lemon yellow colour, but above the splash back behind the bath is white tiles. Above the vanity, around the mirror it looks like the wall is made from sandstone blocks or something similar, but on closer inspection I find out it is very clever and deceiving looking wallpaper which had me fooled. The shower cubicle is plain glass and located at the end of the bath. It has the same split coloured waterproofing, with the lower part the lemon yellow and the upper part white tiles. It has a pretty standard showerhead and mixer, but at least it is one of those removable ones, because they are much easier to adjust than the old school fittings. The toilet of course has to be right beside the shower cubicle, which incidentally also puts it behind the bathroom door, so can't be seen from inside the other room. Once in the bathroom I start the shower running and adjust the temperature, being thankful that the mixer isn't too touchy so is easy enough to get right. Once set, neither of us waste any more precious time and we pile in and huddle together, as close as possible under the torrent of warm clean water. It feels so beautiful and cleansing while I feel the magical water do its job of washing all the sweat and grime off me, but the feelings are amplified because I am snuggled so close to Pierre at the same time. We both let our bodies soak for a while under the beautiful purifying water which is cascading magically on us. It is so good for both body and mind being in the shower together, allowing all our troubles to wash away along with the dirt and grime into the sewers below. Once I feel I have soaked for long enough, I get a small bar of hotel soap from the holder and remove the packaging. Even though the hotel supplies face cloths to help clean oneself, I decide not to use one, because I want to clean Pierre and I prefer to have the skin on skin contact. I start off by lathering up the soap in my hands, before I start to scrub down my gorgeous French boyfriend's silky smooth body. I start off up by his shoulders and make my way down his arms. His body relaxes tremendously while I am massaging my soapy hands into the muscles on his shoulders, which I am pleased about. Once I have cleaned his shoulders and both arms I start on his chest, ensuring I cover every inch of his sexy tummy, which a bit like mine is starting to lose some of its muscle definition due to the lack of the right sorts of exercise. I am disappointed that I'm starting to get a little gut, but on Pierre I think it adds more character and appeal to him. I know he is like me and a bit upset about letting himself get out of shape, but there is little either of us can do about that for the time being, until we settle down properly again. While we are on the move with no fixed abode, it is too difficult to worry about trying to get ourselves back into shape, so we don't stress too much about it. I clean every inch and in every nook and cranny of his chest and abdomen, including thoroughly cleaning inside his bellybutton, which almost sets him off in fits of laughter due to how much it tickles. I skip his package, and my favourite little toy for the moment, and head down his smooth hairless legs as far as his ankles and make my way back up. His leg muscles have also lost a bit of their definition, due to being stuck in a hospital bed for so long, but it won't take too much to get them back to how they were before the incident. I have noticed this while I have been gently massaging them with my soaped up hands. I'm not concerned about it, because I know I have gotten out of shape too, so I'm starting to look forward to settling down again so I can go back to doing my normal activities. I have made Pierre so relaxed that he is like putty in my hand. I have made all bar 2½ inches of him totally relaxed, but of course my tender contact has had its usual result in making my favourite toy rigid as steel. His hard member seems to twitch up and down in time to his heartbeat, which seems to be beating pretty slow due to how relaxed he is, but is still enough to cause his dick to twitch in a rhythmic pattern. Pierre looks to be on another planet right now, but I want to send him to a place far more blissful than that. I think he knows my plan, but I'm not worried because he deserves to get some pleasure, after all, he ensured I never had another wet dream the whole time we were in hospital, but I was never allowed to repay the favour. I know he won't try to stop me because I made him like putty, but I won't let him anyway as this is something I feel he deserves. I drop the soap on the floor of the shower, because I am not going to need it for a little while. All I'm going to need is my hands and my mouth, so I already have everything I'm going to need and anything extra is surplus to requirements. Well, that's sort of a lie, because I do have some use for the soap, but that is a bit later on which is why I have kept it within reach. As I said I have already made my plans for what I want to do! I take hold of his beautiful dick in my slender fingers causing him to gasp, and gently pull back his elongated foreskin to expose his bulbous reddish brown glans. This is the first time I have been able to get a good look at his knob for ages, and seeing it now proves what I thought and his shaft has thickened up making his head not so pronounced. His glans glistens under the cascading water and looks so tasty that I just want to put it straight into my mouth, but I want to hold off that for a little longer. With the fingers from one hand still holding back his foreskin, I use my pointing finger on my other hand to gently rub along his pee slit which causes him to writhe around from the intensity of the feelings I'm generating. He throws his head back and gasps for air as the insane sensations overwhelm him, but it's payback time for him doing it to me, so I don't let up. I keep tormenting him by rubbing his sensitive glans, and after a while his whole body starts to quiver from the building climax which is threatening to explode in him. His eyes are clamped shut and he is struggling to breathe, so I know it is time to stop my torment and let him settle down again. I let go of his spastically twitching pecker, which continues to throb for a while longer after I have released it, due to me having worked him up so much. He is slow to come down, but that doesn't bother me because it is time for stage two of my plan. This is the part which is going to be interesting, because I don't know how he will react, but I also have no idea how I will go either. I grope around on the shower floor trying to locate the soap which I had dropped down there; once I have finally found it I use it to lather up my hands. I then soap up around Pierre's bum hole, which takes a lot of mental effort in order to shut my brain off from all negative thoughts about the region, but I succeed and I am able to touch his pale round globes without too much hesitation. I thoroughly lather up around his tight bum hole, which he makes easier to access by spreading his legs. I'm not totally convinced that he spread them so that I could gain easy access to his butt, because I think he has also done so to enable him to continue standing. I have noticed that he has the biggest smile on his face while I'm lathering up his bottom, because he is so happy that I'm able to touch him properly around there again. His eyes burst open from an unexpected shock, when I put a lathered up finger against his rose and gently push in. Initially there is a bit of resistance, but it suddenly gives way and my finger slips into his tight hot bum hole. I gently continue to push my finger deeper and deeper into his bum, until I hit something which causes him to gasp loudly. My finger is buried as deep as it is going to get inside him by this point, so I slowly withdraw it. My finger almost plops out, because I hadn't prepared myself for his ass muscles to clench in order to help try and expel it. Somehow I manage to keep my finger inserted in his butt, but only just. I slowly and gently push my finger all the way back in, until I make Pierre gasp loudly again when I hit something. I gently start to finger fuck him, taking the utmost care not to hurt him, while seeing if I can give him a huge amount of pleasure. Pierre is in ecstasy as the strange new sensations he is receiving become more and more pleasurable. He is moaning more from pleasure than I've ever heard him do before, but due to his constant moaning his breathing is getting affected. He is shaking at the knees because of the intense feelings coursing through his body, which also quivers madly in pleasure. I can tell he is struggling to stay on his feet, because the feelings are too pleasurable and intense, and are draining energy from his body. He is getting close to having an almighty climax, but I can't tell exactly how close he is. This is all new to me, as well as to him, so it is hard to read his body language unlike when I play with his dickie. While I continue to finger fuck Pierre, I'm captivated by the way his pecker is twitching wildly from the intense sensations I am generating in his body. His is starting to buck his hips in time with the movement of my finger. I decide it is now time to take his rock hard dick in my mouth and suck on my favourite lollipop. Instinctively I lick my lips, in anticipation of taking his tasty sausage in my mouth. I can already taste the magical sweet flavours of his hard pecker, and I haven't even got it in my mouth yet, but it is still enough to get me salivating for more. Pierre's body shudders violently when I reach out with my free hand and take hold of his dick, because the combined sensation are almost more than he can take. He is much closer to his climax than I thought, so I doubt I'm going to get much time to enjoy sucking on his sausage. I gently pull back his foreskin to expose his glistening glans and hold it in its retracted position, while licking my lips again. His body shudders violently while I do this, so I know I'm going to have to hurry. I adjust myself so that my face is directly in front of the ultimate prize, and lower my lips to it. I open my mouth in order to take in all of his sausage before I touch him, because if his is going to climax soon I want to at least be able to enjoy his taste a little bit. I close my mouth down on his hard twitching member, and run my tongue along his entire length the moment I have it all in my mouth. His shudders immensely and thrusts his hips, forcing his prick hard in my mouth. I feel his dick expand, sort of blowing up like a balloon as it prepares to erupt forcefully in my mouth. I give his glans a couple of flicks with my tongue, feeling his body shudder continuously in a powerful fashion. "Aggggggghhhhhh!!!" Pierre screams, as his orgasm rips through his body like a colossal volcanic eruption. His prick goes spastic, pulsing away feverishly in my mouth, while his butt muscles contract and relax on my finger in time with his dick. Something erupts out of his dick and hits the back of my throat, before it is followed by another one, and then some of that same stuff dribbles onto my tongue. I quickly taste the substance, fully aware that it is Pierre's first cum, and I'm not disappointed one little bit. It is salty but very sweet and once all his wonderful nectar has gone, all I want to do is get him to climax again, so I can have another sample. Pierre involuntarily has other ideas though, as his prick quickly deflates in my mouth, before slipping out with a plop. My arm then starts to feel the weight of his body against it, due to him sliding down the shower wall which he had used for support, because his legs can no longer take his weight. I pull my finger from his butt, which like his dick, comes out creating a plopping sound, before I move my arm away to allow him to slump to the floor. He is panting and gasping for breath by the time his body has reached the floor. His body is still giving off the occasional violent quiver, due to waves of pleasure still sweeping through him. I see his eyes are also closed due to him being exhausted from the sexual exertion, but he hasn't got them clenched shut because he is in recovery mode. His balls are starting to drop again under the warm water, after they had contracted during his orgasm. The main thing that I notice about him is the magical aura that encompasses his body. He glows radiantly from the pleasure he has experienced, and his face even looks tranquil and at peace. He is enjoying basking in the afterglow of such a magical experience, and I know from experience that the first time you cum properly is the most intense and awesome feeling ever. I am pretty sure that I am glowing too, because I am so ecstatic to bring him such a wonderful experience that I can't contain my smile. `Over the moon,' is a massive understatement of how great I am feeling right now, because I don't think there is a word that has been invented to describe my feelings as I look over how much euphoria I have given to my lover. It is the best feeling in the world which I am feeling right now, because I know I have done something magical for someone else who has enjoyed every second of it. While Pierre is recovering from his mind shattering orgasm, I use the chance to finish cleaning him as best as possible. Cleaning up around my favourite toy, his tasty sausage is easy, but getting to his back is a lot more difficult. Somehow I manage to clean his back, with him still slumped on the ground, but it is impossible for me to clean his butt. I decide I can do that just before we get out of the shower, but if I forget I figure that I have already cleaned it thoroughly enough any way. Once I have finished cleaning Pierre, I start to scrub down myself. I lather my body with soap as quickly, but thoroughly as I can. I don't want Pierre to recover and try to start something with me, so I do things rapidly in order to avoid any potential situation with him wanting to repay the favour. Within a short time I have my body sparkling and clean, while Pierre is still trying to recover from his high. With Pierre on the floor of the shower still, I decide that I'd better help him get up, so that we can get out and dry off. That is all easier said than done, because he is still off this planet, enjoying the magnificent after effects of his climax. I have to lift him to his feet, which is exceedingly difficult because it is like trying to lift a dead weight. Somehow I manage to get him to his feet, but with the way his knees are shaking I know I will have to support his weight, otherwise his legs are likely to buckle underneath him. It takes a lot of effort to guide Pierre out of the shower, turning it off at the same time, and placing him on the toilet seat so he doesn't collapse on me. Once I have him seated I dry myself off, before doing the same for him as best as I am able to. I think that I've done a pretty good job, but it is hard to tell because of the way he is hunched over. I am surprised how much his climax has taken out of him, but he is definitely still trying to recover from it and I have to cater for his lack of energy. I get him off the toilet, rather awkwardly because he offers no assistance and I'm sure his body is getting heavier. It takes a huge amount of effort to carry him through to the main room and place him on the bed. I am totally exhausted after that, but worst of all is I can now see that Pierre has fallen asleep. `No wonder he was so heavy to carry,' I think to myself. I feel much the same way, but I don't want to hold everyone else up for the rest of the day. I set straight back to work by getting myself dressed. I find some grey knee length shorts which have a black crisscross design to them, and pull on a blue loose fitting tee shirt with Billabong printed in white lettering on the back. I see no use for undies again; because I am enjoying the feeling of going commando, so don't see the point in putting any on. So the last thing I do is locate my jandals and slip my feet into them. The next part is going to be the hardest in more ways than one. I am going to have to wake Pierre up, which I don't want to do because he looks so peaceful and happy in his sleep. I know it is also going to be difficult to wake him, because his climax has taken a lot more out of his body than I thought it would, but I am going to have to do it, so he doesn't miss out on the day's activities. I set to work waking him as gently as I can, trying to keep him in his world of bliss while he returns to the land of the living. It takes ages before he starts to respond, by which stage I have taken to shaking him in order to try and rouse him. He is all groggy as he wakes, and I can tell that his mind still has him in a trance, but I gradually bring him right back to earth. `If he is like this after an orgasm, then what is he going to be like when we finally have sex?' I think to myself, still unable to believe how much his climax took out of him. It is an unusual thought for me, because I have not thought too much about the act itself, other than trying to get information about what it is like. I think I might be coming round to the idea, and I sort of want to know what it feels like. I am still scared, which is to be expected after what I've been through, but I think that I can overcome that aspect easily enough. Pierre breaks all my train of thought, when he reaches up and pulls me down to him. Then he plants the most amazing and loving kiss on my lips, which sends the most magical feelings through my body. His kiss is full of so much love and passion it is hard to resist, so I kiss him back. Our kissing quickly becomes enthusiastic and heated, but I know we can't continue like this for too long. In the meantime I make sure to enjoy every moment of the passion we are showing each other. "Thank you so much, that felt amazing!" Pierre whispers in my ear, after beating me to it and breaking off the kiss. He doesn't wait for me to respond, just kisses me again this time short and tenderly. "Wow, love you, and got good news. You squirted for the first time!" I tell him animatedly, because I am so excited and full of life that I can't contain myself. "Wow cool, I thought it felt a lot more intense than usual. I'm so glad you got to enjoy it!" he replies, before he gives me the most passionate kiss, which sends my head into a spin. He then decides it is time we left, so breaks off the kiss and gets out of bed. I am still in a bit of a daze while Pierre gets dressed, so don't pay enough attention to him. I am a little disappointed that I didn't take the time to appreciate his beautiful sleek body, but I have already had a close examination of every inch of him, so I can't complain too much. By the time I have come back to earth Pierre is dressed in some tan knee length cargo shorts, and a light green loose fitting polo shirt on which he has left all three buttons undone, and slips his feet into his jandals. Now with both of us ready we decide that we should go and find mum and the others and let them know we are ready to go. First we gather up yesterday's clothes and stuff them into our bags, trying to keep them separated from all our clean clothes as best we can. Once we have done that we leave the room, ensuring to close and lock the door behind us and head towards mum's room. The hallway is silent, almost eerily quiet, but we ignore it figuring that everyone is in their rooms whittling away time while they wait for us. We get to mum's room and knock on the door. I am a little surprised to see it closed because I had expected them to be anxiously awaiting our arrival, so that we can go, but that doesn't seem to be the case. "Good morning, I didn't expect to see you quite so soon. I almost thought you would use the time to... well, you know what. Come in and make yourselves comfortable, because we are going to have to wait. François and Sarah have taken the boys to a park to allow them to burn off some energy, so hopefully they won't be too much longer," mum says after opening the door to let us in. The look on her face is priceless when she sees it is us, because she really didn't expected to see us any time soon. We go into her room and take a seat on the bed. It is pretty boring sitting there waiting, even though I'm able to spend my time hugging Pierre, but mum and Manuel's dad are much for conversation, because like Pierre and me, they are infatuated with each other. In ways it is like looking at an older version of me and Pierre, because they are as hopelessly lost in their love for each other as we are. It is kind of cute watching them, but it does little to make the time go quicker. I give up watching them pretty quickly and return my focus to the love of my life and get lost in his beautiful hazel eyes once again. I look straight through his magical eyes deep down into his soul, which is at peace and so in love. I can feel all his love for me radiating from him, and I know he is getting the same sensations from me. I am snapped back to reality when the door crashes open and two hyped up little boys come bowling into the room. On first impressions it doesn't look like François and Sarah have succeeded in tiring the boys out, but while they run up to Pierre and me I notice their faces have a tired worn out look to them. I spend too long concentrating on trying to work out how tired they are to pay much attention to what they are up to, until I am bowled over as the boys throw themselves at me. "You so should have got up early and come to the park with us. It was so much fun and I know you would have enjoyed it," a hyped up Callum says. He seems to be running on the enjoyment and excitement that he is feeling after having had a good play at the park, more than he is running on energy itself. I know it isn't going to take too long for the excitement to die down and then I can see both boys crashing, but until then I guess I have to weather the storm. "I'm glad you both had fun, but can you please get off so I can breathe again," I reply as calmly as I can, while the two youngsters are on top of me and squeezing the life out of me. They both give me a sheepish look, before they ease themselves off me a tad, not a lot because they still want to be on top of me for some reason I'm not too sure of. I don't think they know why they want to lie on me either, but it seems like a good thing to be doing, so that is what they do. The longer they stay there the quicker their excitement wears off, and before long I realise they have both crashed out. Now I am stuck with two sleeping boys using me as a mattress, with no way to free my arms in order to get them off, but thankfully Pierre realises my predicament and tries to help. While Pierre tries to roll Manuel, who is the closest, off me, François and Sarah finally catch up with the two boys who ran off ahead of them. They give me an unsurprised look when they come in and see the youngsters lying on top of me, fast asleep. They knew they had done a good job in tiring them out, but they were sort of hoping they hadn't done this good a job of it. "Well it looks like we succeeded in tiring them out," Sarah says with a big cheeky smirk across her face. I poke my tongue out at her because it is all I can really do, as I am still struggling to breathe properly due to their weight. "Come on boys, wake up and get off him," François says while he gives his nephew a helping hand in trying to awaken the sleeping little ones. The boys are slow to awaken, but eventually they rouse enough to get off me and stand up groggily. Now free from them I sit up and offer my help in getting them to awaken properly, which takes a lot of effort because François and Sarah have done a superb job in tiring them out. The boys take forever to awaken enough to be able to go out and see the sights with us, but we do bring them back to earth enough to go. Mum helps with waking them up by giving everyone some food for lunch, which she had got while waiting for everyone. Lunch is pretty simple, just sandwiches and a juice, but it still hits the spot nicely and gives us enough energy to continue with the day. The boys even perk up considerably while eating theirs, but they are still dead dog tired, which is good for François because he knows he is going to have no trouble getting them to bed and sleep tonight. Once lunch is finished, we put all our rubbish away and head out the door. Mum closes and locks it as she takes up the tail, before her and Manuel's dad take the lead again and escort us down the stairs and into the warm sunny outdoors. The heat hits us the instant we walk out the door from the nice cool interior of the hotel, and it literally feels like walking straight into a brick wall. After recovering from the initial shock and adjusting to the different climate we have entered, it is nice and pleasant outside. It is beautiful today when compared to the last couple of days, because there is a nice breeze cooling things down. We take the short stroll across the road and over to the castle-like structure and go inside. Mum pays the admission price and we go and join a group of other tourists, to get shown around the place by a multilingual guide. I quickly learn as the tour starts that the building isn't a castle, but a palace, called the Palais des Papes. As we get guided through the massive building and shown into most of the rooms, a lot of them, incidentally, are barren of all furnishings, I learn a lot more about the place. Construction of the palace began in 1316 by Pope John XXII, and was finally completed by one of the succeeding popes in 1370. It was designed to be a fortified palace to hold the pontifical court and is the largest Gothic palace in Europe. The palace was heavily fortified and strategically constructed on a natural spur of rock, to try to make the building impenetrable from attack. The walls of the palace are seventeen to eighteen feet thick, which is something which impressed the hell out of me, but still was not enough to stop it and the city falling under French rule during the French revolution of 1791. Before it finally fell for once and for all, it had been occupied numerous times by French troops, but always returned to the papacy. The seat of the Pope had been moved from Rome to Avignon during the period 1309 through to 1378, because of a conflict between the Papacy and French crown. Pope Clement V refused to move to Rome after his election, instead moved his court and papal enclave to Avignon. This time is often referred to as the Babylonian Captivity. In 1378 Pope Gregory XI returned the papacy to Rome, abandoning Avignon in the process, which officially ended the Avignon Papacy, but gave rise to the Western Schism. The Western Schism started after a breakdown in relations between the cardinals and Pope Gregory's successor, Urban VI, which started a second line of Avignon popes. These popes are now regarded as illegitimate. The Schism finally ended in 1417 and the seat of the Papacy was finally uncontested and to stay in Rome. All in all there were seven popes who resided here and two antipopes. The Pope's apartments are about the only rooms in the palace where there is much to see, other than the odd stunning mosaic or fresco around the place, but I'm not too worried about that because I'm enthralled by its history. After the departure of the popes, the palace had been used as military barracks and a prison, which is why most of the rooms are now pretty bare of anything. By the end of the tour I have even more appreciation for the building than I did before I started, but back then I didn't think it was possible because I was already awestruck by the magnificence of the structure. The historical side to the building is what I have enjoyed most, and all through the tour I tried to picture how things must have been for them back then. Far different to how it is today, I bet. With the tour finished we leave the palace, and head down to the far end of the massive courtyard towards the smaller looking castle. This building was once a palace too, during the 14th and 15th centuries, which served as the bishops' palace, but now it is a museum. We go inside and take our sweet time strolling around admiring the exhibits. The museum exhibits mainly lavishly coloured religious paintings from the 13th to the 16th centuries. The collection is vast and there is an outstanding collection of paintings, which takes a long time to get through. We take our time and appreciate the paintings which catch our eye, which for all of us seem to be different ones. Well, except Pierre and me, we seem to love the same paintings. Every so often I can hear sniggering from the two young ones, as they have found a painting of a naked person, so are giggling at women's tits, or a guy's cock. Typical little boys, giggling at paintings of people's anatomy like they have never seen them before, but I suppose I was doing the same thing at their age, and I probably would still be doing it now if it wasn't for Pierre. Having a boyfriend has made me grow up quicker in some respects, but then again I have had a mental age well beyond my years because of what I have gone through, so I don't find things like that amusing any more. We spend ages wandering around the museum, before mum finally decides she has had enough and it's time to go. We all follow her and Manuel's dad out of the museum and back to the hotel. Instead of leading us back upstairs so we can return to our rooms, they lead us into the restaurant. I now realise how late it has got in the day, and that it is nearing dinner time, instead of being the middle of the afternoon like I had thought. Oh well, that's what happens when you sleep in I guess. The restaurant isn't quite what I had expected. It isn't like a normal building specifically designed as a restaurant, instead it has a cave like look to it, almost like it used to be the old wine cellar, or even worse maybe a dungeon. Either way it has a warm and welcoming feel to it, and with candle lit tables and soft music playing quietly in the background, it almost has a romantic air to it. Most of the tables are set up to seat two to four people, but I notice in one corner of the room there is a table set up to seat eight, which tells me that mum had made a prior booking, which is why she wanted to take so long at the museum. This knowledge plus some of the other things I have picked up on today has made me wonder whether there is something more planned for this evening than just dinner. I hadn't paid much attention to them at first, but now I have started to notice some of mum's odd behaviour today. Firstly she seems to have spent most of the day trying to avoid too much attention from any of us. Aside from waking us up in the morning, she has had little to do with me and Pierre all day. The other major thing I should have noticed is we joined a tour group when we went around the palace. Mum usually avoids those sorts of things, because she prefers to wander at her own pace and give us the information herself, to ensure we understood what it was all about. Now seeing a table already set up for us has me thinking that mum has something that she wants to tell us. She never has been too good at hiding things, because I always seem to get a feeling in my gut when she has news, and today is no different. Well, now that I have picked up on the clues she has left, I have started to get that feeling in my gut. I have no idea what it could be about though, because there doesn't seem to be anything too important which mum would go to all this effort for. My first thought was maybe it had something to do with taking Pierre to the cemetery to see the graves of his parents, but I realise that it is not a good idea just at the moment. I know mum will have the same thoughts too, because he really needs to remember about what happened to his dad, before we can take him to see their graves. It is going to be too hard on him otherwise, because he will end up grieving over the death of his father again, before his memory gets wiped of it. It is something which is going to bug me until mum lets us in on what she is up to, and for the life of me I can't think of anything it could be. I return to reality when I notice everyone following a waitress, and heading unsurprisingly, straight towards the table with the eight seats around it. Upon reaching the table I notice that on the table in front of each seat is a little name card, to let us know where at the table we are to sit. We all wander around the table looking for a card with our name on it. The layout isn't what I had expected, because on the side of the table closest to the wall there are only two seats, but at one of the ends are another two seats. To me it would have made more sense to have three seats along the sides and only one at the ends, but what am I to know because I'm only a kid. Things start to become clearer as to why the seating arrangement is the way it is, as mum and Manuel's dad take the seats on the side closest to the wall. François ends up at the head of the table, and Sarah, Pierre and I take the seats on the other side of the table to mum. Callum and Manuel have to squeeze together at the other end of the table, but given their small size they do so comfortably. The waitress, who I hadn't even noticed had disappeared in the first place, returns with a bottle of champagne and starts to pour some into the glasses which are already set up on the table. Everyone is talking amongst themselves while the waitress does her thing, but due to the acoustic properties of the room no-one seems to talk much louder than a whisper. Once the waitress has finished pouring everyone a glass of champagne, she disappears again. I assume she has gone to get some menus, since there are none on the table. Well, I suppose it could be a set menu restaurant in which case there won't be a menu, but I have a feeling it isn't that type of place. I could be totally wrong though, and the longer the waitress takes the more it is looking like I am wrong about it. My thoughts are suddenly interrupted when I hear someone tapping on their champagne glass. ************ Comments are always welcome at (pennywise3636@gmail.com). Please keep all comments clean. If possible please kick in a few bucks at the Nifty Website, to keep it up and running. The site puts in a lot of effort and work so that we all have a place to come and contribute or read some fine stories.