Magic Carpet

"Probably better than I can. My parents met while working for the UN in Geneva. They had to be tri-lingual - English, French and German. They can also understand and speak Swiss French and Swiss German, They would probably follow Angelique's accent easier than I can. They still use their languages at work every day, and my sister Mary has started with the company I work for. Her French is improving and we often speak French at home to help her. Mary is going to Paris next year."

"So you'll look after Angelique?" The warden asked. "I was worried about her. She seemed so lost."

"As long as she wants me to," I replied. "One thing puzzles me. When she was explaining her situation she referred to someone called Albert. Any idea who Albert is?"

"Albert? Yes. He is an older widowed hosteller who comes here often. He is almost a caricature of the older hosteller. He wears shorts whatever the weather and has hostel badges all over his jacket. He was here last night and left in the morning to walk the area. He met Angelique and Marie by the bus stop just after Marie had made the phone call. Marie asked him to make sure Angelique found this hostel. He did before going back to London."

"I wondered how she got here. This is off the beaten track and not very well signposted from the village centre."

"Albert made sure she did."

"If I meet him I'll thank him."

We went to bed shortly afterwards.

+++

I took a long time over breakfast because I was translating what Angelique wanted to say to the other two couples. Rachel eventually told Angelique, in German, to shut up and let Geoff eat.

After breakfast we went to the warden's office to make a phone call to Angelique's parents in Alsace. It took twenty minutes before Angelique was connected. She was pleased to be told that Marie had made it home safely and the old lady had been stabilised. Marie's grandmother should be able to return home in a few days and was expected to live another couple of years. I was finding it difficult to follow even Marie's side of the call because she and her mother were speaking fast Alsatian, not standard French.

I was surprised when Angelique said her mother wanted to talk to me.

The mother asked me to look after her Angelique and make sure she caught her coach at Victoria Coach station. I assured her that I would look after Angelique for as long as she needed me. I then gave the phone back to Angelique.

The call cost three pounds and seven shillings which Angelique paid to the Warden. She would have to cash a traveller's check in Salisbury on Monday. I told her that would be easily possible as well as the excursion to Stonehenge. When Angelique went to pack I asked the warden if he could ring his colleagues in Winchester and Salisbury to book evening meals and breakfasts for us. Now I was going to be with Angelique I didn't want to cook for myself and hostel meals were inexpensive. I paid him for those phone calls.

Angelique and I walked the half mile to where I had parked the car. The two tandems passed us on the way. Angelique's reaction on seeing the car was like Susan's.

"It's a horrible colour, Geoff." She said.

I sighed.

"It was my uncle's car. When he bought it, his first ever car, he was told he could have in that colour or wait up to a year for a colour he wanted. So he accepted that colour."

I opened the doors and put our back packs behind the front bench seat, Angelique climbed in after forgetting which side the driver was in an English car. I got in at the driver's door.

"This is my magic carpet," I said.

"Magic Carpet?" Angelique queried.

"Yes. I can get in this outside my parents' house and go anywhere as long as I can afford the fuel. I couldn't for a couple of months after I bought it, I was broke. But now? I can drive it whatever the weather and stay warm and dry. I can leave my parents' house on a Friday evening and be a hundred miles away at a youth hostel that night. Getting to the hostel we had come from was only an hour. I could have gone straight to Winchester but they were full last night."

"I am pleased you did. I would have been lost without you, Geoff."

"And we will be in Winchester before mid-morning. We have most of the day today and the whole of tomorrow to explore the town. On Monday morning we will be in Salisbury even earlier - by magic carpet."

As we drove Angelique relaxed and snuggled close to me, slightly impeding my gear changing on the column. But I didn't have to change very often. We were in top gear almost all the way to the outskirts of Winchester. I parked the car just outside the City Centre a hundred yards or so from the Youth Hostel. I locked our back packs in the boot and we went to the Cathedral, stopping for a light lunch on the way.

When we entered the cathedral Angelique picked up an explanatory leaflet in French. One of the guides noticed.

"Would you like a guided tour in French?" He asked, in French with an obvious English accent.

"Yes, that would be nice," Angelique answered, "If that's OK for you, Geoff?"

"Yes, of course," I said In French and continued, also in French, "I can follow your explanations, sir," I said to the guide, "but you might have to slow down for her. She is French but from Alsace. She has a strong accent. Think Geordie in English. She sometimes finds my Parisian French hard to understand."

"I think your French is probably much better than mine." The guide said.

"Possibly. But you know your Cathedral. I don't. We would appreciate a tour."

We enjoyed the tour. Angelique asked several questions which sometimes taxed the guide. He knew his basic tour by heart but although he could understand and answer her questions he sometimes had to give the answers in English for me to translate. He knew the cathedral intimately even if he struggled sometimes to explain in French.

Angelique was surprised that Jane Austen's memorial stone was so inconspicuous and small. She knew Jane Austen's work from French translations and was pleased to see where she was buried but thought such a famous author should have a much grander monument. The guide also pointed out the later plaque and memorial window but agreed the gravestone was very small and simple.

"She was a modest lady and her funeral was attended by only four people," he said, "but millions of tourists since her time have made up for that. We are very proud to have her here."

He finished the tour back at where we had come in. Angelique and I thanked him before setting off to walk around the cathedral again at our own pace. I had to return to buy a guide book to answer some of Angelique's questions. I had bought one in English for me. I bought one in French for Angelique to keep and take home with her.

When we arrived at the Youth Hostel Angelique handed her new French Youth Hostel Card to the warden. Angelique had never stayed until a Youth Hostel, even in France, before last night.

"You must be Angelique," he said, in French. "You should enjoy being here. I speak French. My assistant Jeanne-Marie IS French and we have three couples staying tonight and tomorrow night who have just arrived from France. And you must be the French speaking Geoff. Evening meals are booked for both of you at seven. Jeanne-Marie will show you the women's dormitory, Angelique. I know Geoff doesn't need help. He has been here before. When you are settled in the French people are in the common room and I will bring you some coffee there."

I could feel Angelique relaxing as the warden spoke. She followed Jeanne-Marie with the two of them in earnest conversation, in French of course.

"This morning when my colleague rang to book your meals he explained about Angelique and you, Geoff," the warden said, continuing to speak in French. "He is very grateful to you for looking after Angelique. His only foreign language, and he isn't very good in it, is Brazilian Portuguese. He doesn't get much call to use that. But here we get dozens of French visitors a week."

Just then the two tandem riding couples arrived. We exchanged greetings and I went to dump my back pack in the men's dormitory. When I entered the common room Angelique still hadn't arrived. The only occupants were the three French couples. Apart from hearing their French, their clothes were subtly different from British hostellers.

"Hello everybody," I said in French.

"You must be the famous Geoff," one of the men replied.

"Famous?" I queried.

"Yes. The warden told us your French is amazing and your accent is probably better than ours. We have been comparing our accents and want to meet Angelique."

"My French is good, for a British person," I said, "but better than French people from France? That is difficult to accept."

"Believe it," the woman sitting beside him said. "All six of us are provincial hicks. We two are from the Pyrenees. Those two are from the countryside north of Nice and David and Susanna although technically from Paris live in a remote suburb and were in Normandy until their late teens."

"We have been amusing ourselves comparing accents and regional words," David said. "Rebekah who just spoke has a Provencal accent and words I don't recognise. But your French is like an educated Parisian. Where was your office in Paris?"

I laughed.

"On the Champs Elysees but I wasn't there very often. Most of my work was at the Sorbonne."

"Champs Elysees and the Sorbonne? You couldn't be much more Parisian than that except - where did you live?" David continued.

I laughed again.

"Montmartre, of course, less than 100 metres from Sacré-Coeur."

"No wonder your French is better than ours. You were a true Parisian. What did you do at the Sorbonne?"

"My employers publish foreign language texts in England. I was working with French literature specialists on preparing French literary works for publishing by my company."

"Ouch! So you probably better qualified in French literature than us?"

"I expect so. I have a doctorate."

"From the Sorbonne?"

I nodded.

"On what?"

"On the influence of Diderot and the Encyclopédie on the English Enlightenment."

"So, eminent Doctor Geoff, does Angelique know?"

"No. She just knows I speak French."

"Just speak French? You are qualified to tell us when we are not using French properly - as we have been finding out in our discussions on accent and dialect."

At that point Angelique arrived with Jeanne-Marie who was bringing coffee. Angelique amused those already there by jumping on my lap and hugging me fiercely. The six of them introduced themselves.

"Angelique? Did you know Geoff has a doctorate from the Sorbonne?" David asked.

"A doctorate? No." Angelique replied. "But I'm not surprised. His French is better than mine. I speak Alsatian French."

"His French is better than any of us. We had been discussing our regional accents and dialects. We are from different regions of France - Normandy, Provence, and Pyrennes, you from Alsace, and Jeanne-Marie from the Pas de Calais. But Geoff's French is pure educated Parisian. He puts us all to shame with his elegant phrasing and sophisticated tone, making us sound like rural hicks - which we are."

"I know I am," Angelique said. "I'm grateful to Geoff and I have been learning proper French from him. I just wish I knew some English."

The discussion about accents and regional differences in language continued over the evening meal. The conclusion was that they all could understand me perfectly because I sounded like a radio news reader. Angelique's accents and Alsatian words were the hardest followed by the two from Provence and the Pyrenees who understood each other even if the others couldn't. Jeanne-Marie's accent was noticeable but her words were normally standard French as were those of the Normans living in a Paris suburb. Those that could understand German found Angelique's Alsatian German to be almost gibberish to them. They were amused by their differences.

We moved back to the common room.

"I suppose you can all speak English?" Angelique asked sorrowfully.

"Of course," One of the women replied. "English was a compulsory subject at school."

The others agreed.

"It wasn't at mine. German was. When my parents were at school during the war, all subjects were in German. After the war they changed back to teaching in French but everyone had to learn German."

"And you passed your examinations with a strong Alsatian accent?"

Angelique laughed.

"Of course. The teachers and examiners were all Alsatian. If I had spoken High German they wouldn't have understood me."

We changed to discussing what we would be doing over the next few days. Angelique mentioned the French speaking guide at Winchester Cathedral. The other French people would be visiting the Cathedral tomorrow while Angelique and I went to the Round Table and the castle. Angelique went off to get her French language guide book to show to the others. While she was gone the tandem-riding English couples arrived. All of us switched to speaking English.

The four English people would also be going to the cathedral. They agreed to go as a group with the French people even if they used different guides. When Angelique returned she insisted on kissing her four English friends from yesterday. While she and the French people looked at and discussed the French language guide book I went off to get my English language copy for the cyclists to look at.

Angelique jumped back on my lap and leant her cheek against mine as the whole group continued to talk in English. She was surprised at the fluency of the other French people. They and the cyclists could speak and understand each other in English at almost normal speaking speed even if they might have to stop to explain an unfamiliar word. The whole conversation meant nothing to her.

Rachel suddenly asked: "Has Angelique learned any English words yet, Geoff?"

I translated the question to Angelique. All of them stopped speaking to hear her answer.

"Hello, Rachel. My name is Angelique. Yes. No. Please. Thank you. I love Geoff. Goodbye. C'est tout."

They all clapped.

"That's amazing for a single day, Angelique," Rachel said. "But - 'love'?"

I translated that and Angelique's reply.

"Yes. Love. I love Geoff, not just like. He has been there for me since we first met. I rely on him and trust him. He is my Englishman and I'm not letting him go."

She finished, when I had translated her reply, by kissing me fiercely.

"And what is your response to that declaration, Geoff?" Rachel asked.

I had to pull my lips away to answer.

"I am delighted, honoured, and I love Angelique too," I said.

"Are you sure you are English, Geoff?" One of the Frenchmen asked. "That's a Frenchman's answer."

"Why not? I had said it in French. But whether speaking French or English, I love Angelique."

That answer led to more kissing by Angelique.

Shortly afterwards we went to bed. Angelique was much more relaxed about going to the women's dormitory knowing she had some French speakers with her.

+++

The next morning the forecast wind was obvious. The cyclists were pleased they would be walking around a city today, not trying to ride. Their visit to the cathedral took much longer than ours yesterday as they could only go around with the guides when there wasn't a service in progress. Angelique and I took our time wandering around, seeing the Round Table and the castle and just walking the streets. She was very pleased with herself. She managed to order coffees for both of us in English after I had coached her with the phrases to us. She wanted to buy an English/French phrasebook and small French/English dictionary but the bookshop was closed on a Sunday. She thought she could buy those in Salisbury tomorrow as well as cash a traveller's cheque.

In the evening we continued comparing dialect words from the various parts of France and our experiences of the cathedral. All of us would be travelling to Salisbury tomorrow. Angelique and I would go in my magic carpet car. The French people were taking public transport and the cyclists were not sure whether to cycle or put their bikes on a train because of the wind. They would decide in the morning, depending on the strength of the wind.

+++

On Monday morning Angelique and I set off for Salisbury, arriving mid-morning. I parked the car. Angelique cashed her cheque and bought a phrase book and dictionary. As we passed a chemist she insisted I went inside and bought some condoms.

"I'm on the pill, Geoff," she said. "Marie said Englishmen like Frenchwomen so she and I started on the pill before we left home. The back seat of your magic carpet car could be a magical place for us. Today I am wearing my fucking skirt."

I was surprised but I took her advice. I hadn't noticed her skirt. When I first met her she had been wearing a tight grey pencil skirt a few inches below her knee with a small back slit. Today she was wearing a knee length flared fawn skirt that swirled around her legs in the wind.

We visited the cathedral using a French-speaking guide again. This one was more fluent and I rarely had to translate for Angelique even if he found her accent slightly difficult. As we were leaving we met the others who had all come by train. The cyclists had locked their tandems to a bicycle rack at the railway station.

Angelique insisted on going to where I had parked the car. It was at the back of the car park against some trees. Although it was broad daylight she asked me to get in the back seat. She pulled my trousers and boxers down before lifting her skirt. As she positioned herself above my erection she spread her skirt to cover what we were doing. I was worried that someone might see what we were doing. But Angelique was so demanding that my inhibitions vanished. Soon I was gasping as she bounced up and down on me. I was unable to hold back for long because Angelique was so devastating but after a short wait my erection recovered. This time I was able to hold on until she had achieved several orgasms.

"I thought so," Angelique said as she lifted herself off. "My Englishman is large enough to satisfy me. And his magic carpet has an ample back seat. We must do it more often."

She sat on my lap and snuggled against me until she could feel that I was becoming erect yet again. My previous girlfriend Susan hadn't been so demanding and direct. Angelique slid my clothes down again for another coupling. This time she lifted her top and pulled my hands to her breasts. I had never managed three times in such a short time with any woman ever before. Angelique might not have much English but she knew how to arouse her Englishman.

When we got back to the hostel the others seemed aware that Angelique and Geoff had gone further in their relationship even if they didn't say anything. That evening we discussed Salisbury Cathedral and how we would get to Stonehenge tomorrow. The cyclists would come with me and Angelique. The French couples had booked a tourist coach outing that went to Stonehenge and then for a cream tea. Angelique liked the idea of a cream tea, so did the cyclists. I said we would try to find one near Stonehenge before returning to Salisbury.

+++

On the Tuesday we all took packed lunches made by the hostel warden. The French couples went to catch their coach. The wind was much stronger than yesterday. The two English couples joined Angelique and me at my car. Angelique sat in the middle of the front seat, leaning on me. Although there were six of us, we weren't crowded. It took a very short time to drive to Stonehenge. The wind fluttered Angelique's skirt revealing her very trim legs. We had been there for an hour before the coach with the French people arrived. They joined us later as we sat eating our packed lunches. Soon they had to rejoin their coach to go for the cream tea. I agreed with the others that since we hadn't been crowded in my car that I would drive us the thirty miles to Avebury.