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Post by Tim on Oct 6, 2019 16:37:30 GMT -5
Yeah, the subway and planes would look big to someone from 1918.
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Post by ladyfiaran22 on Dec 21, 2019 10:38:44 GMT -5
Chapter 30
Everyone appeared calm when they prepared to board the flight to Nice but most of the group were excited. The bored-looking customs official glanced at their tickets and passports before letting them board, walking down the long tube and into the plane. "We're flying first class, that's the only way to fly to France", said Jack with a grin.
The plane filled with passengers as the flight attendants helped everyone find their seats. Tatiana wondered if someone had deliberately planned this since she was seated next to Jack, Ian with Olga and Skye, Maria with Pierre and their girls and her parents together with the younger Romanov siblings and Athena. She did have to admit the seat was comfortable and thanked the flight attendant for pouring her a glass of sparkling wine. "Air France is brilliant, they have free wine for first class passenger and the food is catered by a top restaurant in Paris. Even the economy class isn't bad, they're wankers but they do things in style", laughed Jack.
The last passengers boarded and after the door was locked, the flight attendant did the safety demonstration with the life vest and oxygen mask. Tatiana paid attention and was amused at her family's reaction. "I know, but they have to do this by law. Very unlikely", said Jack.
The plane taxied over to the runway and soon it accelerated down the tarmac before becoming airborne. She was thrilled when the plane lifted off and its wheels left the ground, the earth below receding into the distance. Her family was still and in shock until they reached cruising altitude, evening out and becoming steady. "We are now at cruising altitude and soon you will be able to walk about the cabin. In about an hour we will be coming around with food and drink", said the pilot before repeating it in French.
The rest of the family was slightly nervous when they saw the plane was flying over the English Channel. "We flew on the North Atlantic, the Channel is small compared to that", said Tatiana reassuringly.
Three hours later, the plane landed at Nice Cote d'Azur airport and the brilliant sunshine of the area made their eyes water. "We're not in England anymore, are we? We'll get sunglasses and then get on the coach", said Jack.
After buying sunglasses from an airport shop and retrieving their bags, the group boarded a coach which served the coastal towns. "St. Roch is about an hour from here, but you ought to look out the windows", said Pierre.
The elder Lacroix brother was correct because as soon as the bus left the station and the Nice city limits, the brilliant azure of the Mediterranean to the left and the mountains covered in greenery to the right took their breath away. The sea sparkled under the sun's rays like a well-cut blue diamond and the mountain greenery looked as though it had the texture of a green felt like a pool table. The bus made its steady way west and stopped at various small towns, each of them surrounded by the stunning blue waters of the sea and the green mountains.
The road to St. Roch was a winding two-lane road which descended gradually towards the town in a series of turns across the mountain's face. The driver maneuvered the large vehicle with a deft touch as it barely missed other vehicles coming in the opposites direction, much to the nerves of the passengers.
The bus finally came to a stop at the town's tiny bus station. Pierre and Jack embraced a dignified dark-haired older woman and Ian did so with a blond woman about the same age. "Mamucia, we're here", said Pierre to his mother.
Barbara Jablonska Lacroix smiled kindly. In her early 60's, she was still a handsome woman with her dark brown hair streaked with gray at the temples and large sky-blue eyes set in a sharp-featured Slavic face. Her younger sister Agata had frosted blond hair in a neat Jackie Kennedy cut, her hazel eyes bright and lively as her daughter's. The sisters wore fashionable Chanel summer dresses and wide-brimmed straw hats to shield them from the sun, their skin smooth and the colour of fresh cream.
"Babcia!", shouted Nicole and Mollie as Barbara embraced her granddaughters.
Barbara chuckled and smiled indulgently at the girls. "You two have grown since last summer, tak?", she teased her in her soft Polish accent.
"And when am I going to have grandchildren, Janek?", chided Agata.
Ian blushed. "Not a the moment, Mamucia", he mumbled.
"Your mother calls you Janek?", asked Olga in confusion.
"Yeah, since Ian is a form of John and so is Jan, Janek is like being called Johnny", he explained.
"Mamucia is eager to see the Parkers, she remembers you from Spala", said Barbara as the whole group walked away from the bus station.
"I do remember a Count Jablonski, he had a lovely wife and two daughters. Unfortunately he had to leave early since his eldest son's wife was having a baby", said Nicholas.
"Tak, that was my our older brother Jan and his wife Kataryna. Unfortunately, they could not escape the Bolsheviks and they were deported to Siberia, along with our nephew Andrzej. We never heard from them again. Kurwa Boksheviki swinia", Agata spat angrily.
"That's why we vote Tory, they're hard on Communism", said Pierre.
"One day we'll get our manor back, Mamucia. And you will be a countess", said Jack.
"Nie, Pierre will be the next Count Jablonski. And you have grown into a beautiful woman, Maria Nicholaevna", said Barbara when she noticed them holding hands.
Maria blushed and giggled. "Spasibo, Madame Lacroix", she replied.
"Miss Maria is so nice and pretty, Babcia. I told that to Giagia", said Nicole.
"It's about time Pierre found a good woman, our granddaughter needs a mother", said Athena.
Pierre's normally dark complexion turned a dull shade of red as he blushed. "No hurries, Mamucia", he mumbled.
It was only a short walk to the house. It sat on a bluff proudly as it surveyed the landscape around it, the house made of a warm buff-colored stone topped by a reddish-brown tile roof. Surrounding the house were brilliant lavender bushes with vivid purple blooms and white rosebushes whose mingled fragrance hung in the air and combined with the tang of sea salt. Inside the house an elderly woman greeted them as she leaned on a cane. In spite of her age and the cane, she held herself straight as possible in her floor-length black satin dress and wide-brimmed black hat with a small veil. "Dzien dobry, Babcia", said Pierre.
The Dowager Countess Jadwiga Jablonska smiled at her grandchildren, her smile growing larger when she saw her great-granddaughters. She was tall and wand-slim with a narrow waist due to the corset she still wore, her elegant oval face with high cheekbones and almond-shaped hazel eyes showing that she must have been a great beauty as a young woman. "I am glad to meet you again, Your Highnesses. I am sorry we had to leave Spala early, our son was expecting our first grandchild", said Jadwiga in flawless Russian.
"No worries, Countess Jablonska", replied Nicholas.
"And the Grand Duchesses have grown into beautiful women. And the Czarevich is so tall. I know that you are now the Parkers, but to me you will always be the Imperial Family", said Jadwiga defiantly.
Jadwiga pulled on a string which activated a bell as two servant girls in immaculate black and white uniforms appeared. "Celeste, Mignon, please show the Parker family to their rooms. Later on, please make tea", ordered Jadwiga.
The girls nodded and showed the family upstairs to the guest rooms. "Monsieur et Madame Parker, this is your room. Mademoiselles Parker, you have these two rooms. Monsieur Parker, your room is next that of the madam et monsieur", said Celeste in a heavy French accent.
Maria and Anastasia tried not to giggle when they noticed Alexei blushed when addressed as Monsieur. "You're getting old, Alex", teased Anastasia.
"Shut up", he muttered.
"Don't tease Lyoshka like that, Nastya", chided Maria once they were inside their room.
"He's never been called a monsieur before, that's for old men. I can't wait to go swimming", declared Anastasia as she looked at the sea from the window.
"We just got here and Madame Jablonska is very kind, you can tell the Countess was a noble lady", said Maria.
"Yeah, I hope the Jablonski family get their lands back. I don't remember her or Count Jablonski at Spala, but there were so many people there wanting to see Papa", said Anastasia.
"I'm glad that Papa is not czar anymore, actually. He was so busy and under so much stress, and him and Mama look so much happier", said Maria.
"And we are safe in England. Mama always said wonderful things about England, all we got to see was Cowes but we have seen London and Manchester is pleasant. Pierre says that next year perhaps we can go to Greece and Turkey, to a conference on the Byzantine Empire in Istanbul", said Maria with eyes wide in delight.
"Ohh, that sounds exciting, Mashka!", exclaimed Anastasia.
"And perhaps Olishka can go to India with Ian, or Tanya to Japan with Jack and Mollie. Papa went to India and Japan but he didn't like it", said Maria.
"I want to go everywhere", Anastasia declared.
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Post by Tim on Dec 21, 2019 12:40:15 GMT -5
Imagine these people seeing the Imperial Family alive, forty-five years after they supposedly died. Must have been quite a surprise.
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Post by ladyfiaran22 on Dec 31, 2019 14:43:32 GMT -5
Chapter 31
"Calm down, Nastya", said Maria.
Anastasia stuck out her tongue as she tied back her long brown hair. "This is the first time we've been to a beach in France, Mashka. And I can't wait to swim in the Med, the water is so blue", she said eagerly.
"You have to apply sun lotion or else you'll get burned. Trust me, it's not pleasant", said Skye. She took out a large bottle of Coppertone lotion and showed them how to apply it. "It prevents you from burning and gives you a nice tan", she explained.
"It smells odd", said Olga dubiously.
"Yes, but a sunburn is worse", replied Skye.
The sisters put on the lotion and made sure their bikinis were on correctly. The sisters were self-conscious at first wearing the skimpy beachwear but relieved when they saw how Skye easily wore hers. The tall blond girl wore a green and white checked bikini with a straw hat atop her head, Olga's in pink and white checks, Tatiana's in black and white stripes, Maria's in dark blue with white polka dots and Anastasia's in yellow. "You won't feel self-conscious when you arrive at the beach, most women wear them. The older ladies to wear one-piece bathing suits, or even the Edwardian-style ones", said Skye in mock-horror.
"Are you sure proper ladies wear these bikinis?", asked Alexandra with concern. She wore a dark blue one-piece but with a knee-length skirt on the bottom and a baggy white t-shirt on top.
"Yes, Mrs. Parker. Bikinis are only for swimming", said Skye.
"And only older chaps wear shirts with their swim suits", said Pierre. Him, Jack and Ian all wore swim shorts without shirts, much to the delight of their girlfriends.
Jack grinned and put an arm around Tatiana as she giggled. "I know you enjoy the view, ladies, but we ought to be moving", he teased.
"Daddy, is Babcia going to the beach?", asked Mollie.
"No, Mollie-Chan. Older ladies prefer the sea breeze from the balcony", he chuckled.
The group walked down the path to the town's public beach. It was filled with a combination of families and tourists swimming or splashing in the water while others sunned themselves on the beach while a lifeguard looked on. The tangy scent of sea air and salt water hung in the air along with the soft murmur of waves lapping against the shore, the sea front scene resembling an Impressionist painting. The siblings got in the water and the sisters squealed in delight when they were splashed by the waves, the water hitting their bare skin. Alexei just laughed as he splashed in the water, finally able to enjoy the beach and being in the water without the constant eye of Derevenko or one of his sailor nannies.
Everyone was in high spirits when they left the beach around noon for lunch. "Next time I want to swim to those rocks, I could only splash about at the pond at Tsarkoe Selo", said Alexei.
"The bay is calm and shallow but the area beyond the rocks is open sea, you ought to not go past them. And the area around here has many interesting sights, Nice has a lovely promenade and many museums. Plus there's Greek and Roman ruins", said Pierre.
"The Greek and Roman ruins in the area are quite extensive, the Greeks actually founded the city and Marseille was founded by the Phoenicians. It's the oldest continuously inhabited city in Europe next to Cadiz in Spain", said Ian.
"And Cadiz was found by the Phoenicians, correct?", asked Olga.
"Yes, but the city itself isn't very interesting to me. I'm more knowledgeable about the Greeks than the Romans, the Romans ripped off the Greeks for much of their stuff. But they did give us a brilliant legal system and part of the English language. The Greeks had a more interesting culture", said Ian.
"Have you been to Greece?", asked Olga.
"Many times, in modern times. The country is lovely and the people are very friendly, but rather thick, I'm afraid. They only take care of ancient things if they can get money out of it, otherwise they'll get rid of them since it's not Christian. And they're friendly towards Europeans but don't like Turks or Slavs, they still haven't forgiven or forgotten the Ottomans. And they think Slavs are ignorant peasants since in Macedonia there's a lot of Bulgarians and Yugoslavs who are poor and their cultures aren't as proud as the Greeks'. So it's a mixed bag, I've never had any problems since I'm British", he replied.
"Our cousins were the Greek royal family, are they still ruling?", asked Nicholas.
"Yes, the current king is Paul I. The Greeks don't mind the royal family, it keeps the military from taking over the country. I stay out of politics whilst in foreign countries", said Ian as Jack and Pierre nodded in agreement.
After a leisurely lunch prepared by the servants, the older people went to the garden to relax. "What do people do in France after lunch?", asked Anastasia hopefully.
"Sometimes people nap since it gets hot. Or we can go to Nice, a big museum of Matisse's work just opened this year and it's brilliant. Plus there's a lovely promenade with cool sea breezes and little cafes where you can drink coffee and watch the people", said Pierre.
"I love Matisse, his paintings are so colorful!", exclaimed Anastasia.
"I suppose someone likes him, but the colors hurt my eyes. I prefer Renoir or Monet", said Tatiana.
"The Musee' de Beaux Artes has more classical art", replied Pierre.
"Daddy, do they have the naked people art?", asked Nicole.
Pierre blushed and the women giggled. "Uh, yes. Not in the Matisse museum", he said nervously.
"Naked people are gross", said Mollie as her and Nicole made faces.
"Oh dear. Don't worry, we won't see any naked people", said Tatiana as she tried not to laugh.
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Post by Tim on Dec 31, 2019 18:25:10 GMT -5
Of course, the military junta, that took over Greece, is still a few years away.
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Post by ladyfiaran22 on Jan 5, 2020 14:36:34 GMT -5
Chapter 32
"If we were younger, we would join you but our ages one is too old to visit Monte Carlo", said Alexandra ruefully as she watched Olga and Tatiana apply their makeup.
"I wish you could go, Mama. But we won't gamble, I don't think we even know how to gamble. And you might like Clive, he is a real English gentleman. He met Jack and Pierre during their military service", said Tatiana as she applied eyeshadow with a steady hand.
"I see, an army officer. It's good that he served in the military, so many noble officers were lazy and undisciplined. Maybe one day we can go to Monte Carlo, Sunny, just the two of us", said Nicholas with a smile.
"But the children...", stammered Alexandra.
"We'll be fine, Mama. We've got the Lacroix and Sutherland families and perhaps you ought to have time alone, Mrs. Sutherland Mrs. Lacroix seem happy enough to be alone without their husbands", said Olga as she looked through her purse for a lipstick.
"Mr. Sutherland and Mr. Lacroix are on a Sol Duga mission, it involves children. Ian wouldn't say anymore, he said we'll know more when his father comes back", said Tatiana.
"So many people to save. I just want you girlies to be careful, a lot of royal people are in Monte Carlo", warned Alexandra.
"Not real royalty, though. Mostly sons of earls and viscounts and all sorts of dodgy royalty, Italian counts and second sons of the British peerage and rich American wankers, pardon my language. Really posh royalty go to Biarritz or Cannes or around Nice, not Monte Carlo and little towns like St. Roch. Since the Prince of Monaco is married to a film star, a lot of rich American wankers go to Monte Carlo to spend money, the prince is married to the former film star Grace Kelly", explained Jack.
"How odd, but weren't people upset about him marrying an actress?", asked Olga.
"Not really, Monaco is such a little country. And she was pretty, fertile and Catholic so that's what mattered. They have two children, Princess Caroline and Prince Albert", said Ian.
"Yeah, it's a shame she quit acting since she was a brilliant actress. Alfred Hitchcock directed some of her films, he's a wonderful British director who does a lot of mystery and thriller films and she was excellent in them. She's actually quite talented unlike many American film stars who just look good in fancy dresses", said Jack with a sigh as Tatiana gave him a look.
"Don't worry, I admire the Princess as an actress, not that a fancy her. A lot of American film actresses are pretty but can't act, which is why I prefer foreign films", said Jack as Ian nodded in agreement.
"I want to go to Monaco, it sounds so wonderful", said Anastasia with a pout.
"You have to be eighteen and neither of us knows how to gamble, Nastya. Besides, we're taking Nicole and Mollie to the beach and then we're going to the promenade after lunch", said Maria.
"All right, I can't wait to be eighteen since there's so much you can do at eighteen", Anastasia declared.
The coach to Monaco waited at the station as the group boarded. "Clive is joining us in Monte Carlo, him and Gavin are staying for a few days before heading on to Italy", said Ian.
"His family must really not like him much if they give him such a big allowance that he can travel like this", said Olga.
"Not at all, but they don't like him being queer. His gallery does very well, they recently sold a piece for 20,000 pounds to a rich American wanker who collects stuff. The gallery also put on a show by Andy Warhol and many of the pieces were sold for a lot of money, Warhol is an American artist", Jack explained.
"His art is rubbish, Campbell's soup cans and detergent boxes painted on a canvas and ugly portraits of film stars", said Ian dismissively.
"It's interesting and colorful, at least the paintings look like something. It could be a Jackson Pollock or a Rothko, that is ghastly", said Jack as Ian made a face.
"That's art which looks like someone splashed the canvas with paint. Mollie and Nicole make better art than that", said Ian in distaste.
The bus stopped at a few other towns before arriving in Monte Carlo. The mountains and the brilliant blue of the Mediterranean took away the sisters' breath and they were equally fascinated by the ladies in their fashionable dresses and the flashy cars chauffeured by men in suits and caps. The store windows displayed the latest French and American fashions and jewels sparkled in display windows, everything they saw in the best of taste and eye-wateringly expensive. "Do the Prince and Princess shop here?", asked Olga.
"Not really, their servants would buy things for them since the royal couple would attract much attention. And surely you have seen shop windows as nice", teased Jack.
"We never went shopping, except at the little shops nearby and on holiday. And we hardly ever had our own money", said Tatiana softly.
"I understand. Anyway, I'm not one for shopping so let's go to the casino", said Jack.
The casino itself was an elegant building built like a Loire chateau with an excellent view of the sea, surrounded by lush green lawns and fountains like a miniature Versailles. Valets took the keys from a variety of fancy and expensive cars which belonged to the mélange of film stars, nobility and other rich people to be parked discreetly at a garage off-site, their owners dressed impeccably in tuxedos and evening gowns even though it was only about noon. "Don't worry, men do have to wear jackets and ties but women just have to wear a nice dress", said Ian.
"Remember last time we were here and there was an American bloke who got upset he couldn't wear shorts and trainers?", asked Jack.
"Ugh, I know. Shorts are for the beach or pool and trainers are for sport, not Monte Carlo. You would think having a bit of dosh would give someone class", said Jack.
"What, someone wore shorts and trainers in public?", asked Tatiana in dismay.
"Yes, of course it was an American. Yanks are good folks for the most part, but too informal. Then again, they are our little odd relatives", joked Ian.
Inside the casino it was just as elegant, marble statues and fountains and priceless artwork that wouldn't be out of place in a chateau. Natural sunlight came in through the glass skylights and gave the interior a golden glow as a few tourists took pictures. "Ah, we meet again, the Misses Parker", said Clive gallantly as he kissed their hands.
"Hello, Clive. Olivia, this is Clive, Jack and Ian's old friend from the army. He owns an art gallery in SoHo", said Tatiana.
"My goodness, brothers and a cousin dating sisters. Luckily Gavin isn't related to me, what a ghastly idea. He's playing blackjack, he's having a run of good luck so I don't want to bother him", said Clive as he led them inside the casino.
Unlike the casino at the hotel in Blackpool, this casino didn't smell of cigarette smoke, whiskey and old lady perfume. Instead, there was only a bit of cigarette smoke and the long bar along one side had smartly dressed bartenders making cocktails for elegant people while others were scattered around at the various tables. A group of tourists were gathered around the craps table as a fat man in tight suit theatrically shook the dice and tossed them onto the table, groaning when he rolled a snake eyes. In contrast, the roulette and baccarat tables were surrounded by people in tuxedos and evening gowns, several of the ladies in fur stoles in spite of the summer.
Clive's boyfriend Gavin was at one of the blackjack tables along with a group of other men, each of them holding a hand of cards. A pile of chips in the center of the table in red, white and blue got bigger as people added more to the mound and the dealer looked at his cards, Gavin smiling triumphantly as he showed his hand that added up to twenty and the others groaning in dismay. "Monsieur Gratton, you want to cash in the chips?", asked the dealer
"Oui, monsieur", he replied in accent less French.
Gavin turned around and smiled at the group. He was tall and blond with the good looks of a film star, wearing a tailored black suit adorned with a maroon and grey tie. "Hello, I'm going to cash in my chips. Just a moment, ladies", he said.
"Each chip represents an amount of money, when you cash them in you get the money equivalent", said Ian.
"Just from playing dice?", asked Olga.
"Yeah, but one can make real money with roulette or poker or baccarat", said Ian.
"Yeah, baccarat is James Bond's favorite game. I never learned how to play the bloody game, it's a game for rich wankers. I prefer roulette", said Jack.
"But roulette has no skill, just luck. Poker has skill", said Ian.
"Your choice, Janek", teased Jack.
Gavin came back with a big grin on his face, giving Clive a quick hug and a hearty thump on the back. "I made more than what I did playing Shakespeare on the road this spring, mon amie", he laughed.
"We're showing our Northern friends the delights of the Monte Carlo casino, Gav", said Clive with a laugh.
"Us Northerners aren't soft like the people down t'South, you wankers", teased Ian.
"I know, you big Yorkshire bastard. We'll do a look around and you can show your ladies the place", said Clive.
"That looks so boring", said Olga when she saw the older ladies on the slot machines.
"It is, it's for old ladies and tourists. One doesn't win much except for a few coins at most, and they're so noisy and loud", said Clive in distaste as the machine rang and an old lady won a cupful of coins.
Jack channeled his inner James Bond as he lit Tatiana's cigarette and then his as they stood at a roulette table, surrounded by elegant posh people in suits and gowns. His black suit had been tailored back when he had graduated university and still fit well, his dark hair slicked back while Tatiana wore a summery dark blue dress with white polka dots topped by a white straw hat and her dark hair tied back at the base of her neck. "You bet on a number and place a chip on the table and the dealer spins the wheel, if it lands on your wheel you win", he explained.
Tatiana nodded as she took a drag and exhaled, watching as Jack placed a bet on red 11. The dealer spun the wheel and it gradually slowed down before coming to a stop on black 12. "Oh well, it's more luck than skill", he chuckled.
Jack placed another bet on red 11 and this time he won. "Let me try again", he said as he placed a bet on red 15. He won again and gave Tatiana a hug, an amused look in his blue eyes. "Perhaps you're my good luck charm, Lady Tessa", he teased.
"Monsieur Lacroix, you may cash in your chips", said the croupier.
"Merci, monsieur", said Jack as he took the pile of chips to the counter.
"How much did you win?", she asked.
"A thousand francs, very good. And you are a lovely good luck charm, Tessa", he teased as she blushed.
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Post by Tim on Jan 5, 2020 18:05:24 GMT -5
Would OTMA even know who James Bond is?
A lot of the European Royal houses they knew no longer exist. What World War I didn't get, World War II finished off.
Ah yes, Princess Grace of Monaco. I remember the news when she died in 1982.
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Post by ladyfiaran22 on Jan 5, 2020 19:22:04 GMT -5
They would have some idea since Alexei went to see From Russia With Love earlier in the story and enjoyed it, plus the novels were bestsellers and the film was a big success. Not to mention Jack has read the books and met Ian Fleming at a publisher’s meeting since they have the same publisher. My Dad and brothers are James Bond fans, the cable channel Spike has a James Bond marathon every Thanksgiving and I’ve seen some of the 60s ones.
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Post by Tim on Jan 6, 2020 0:37:31 GMT -5
Ah, I see.
I'm only familiar with the movies.
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Post by ladyfiaran22 on Jan 12, 2020 12:14:09 GMT -5
Chapter 33
"We'll be fine, Mama and Papa", said Maria reassuringly as the family got ready to leave St. Roch.
"I know, but I'm still worried. This isn't like when you went to London, Belgium is another country", said Alexandra worriedly.
"I understand, Mrs. Parker. But we'll be staying with relatives in Virton, and Brussels is a lovely city. I think it would be a good idea to visit the Belgian side of the family", said Pierre reassuringly.
"Why do you want to go to Belgium, Mashka? It sounds like a boring country", said Anastasia as she made a face.
"The Lacroix family is originally from there and I want to meet Pierre's father's people. We already met his mother's people", Maria replied calmly.
"You want to be alone with Pierre, Mashka", teased the younger Romanov sister as Maria giggled and blushed.
Tatiana gave her sister a look. "Nastya, don't tease Mashka like that. And I'm going along with Jack and the girls, trust me nothing odd is going to happen to us", she replied.
"Dad is going to meet us back in England, he completed his mission", said Skye enigmatically.
"I am glad Mr. Sutherland's mission was successful", said Nicholas.
After the rest of the families got on the bus to Nice, the Lacroix brothers, their daughters, and Maria and Tatiana waited for the bus to Marseille for the train station. "Your father and Uncle William were successful in bringing back the children", said Barbara.
"Tak, Mamucia. I hope they're not sick from being confined, and they must be frightened", replied Pierre.
"Yeah, even if their prison wasn't that horrible it still would have been a confusing experience", said Jack.
"Those poor children, whoever they are. I hope they're safe", said Maria.
"They are, and they will be", said Pierre quietly.
The bus to Marseille arrived at the station and they boarded. The driver barely seemed to look at them and the flat gray cap on his head moved slightly as he nodded, the ash from his cigarette falling onto the steering wheel and the smell stronger than the Regal cigarettes they were used to. "Those are Gauloises, or Gitanes. French cigs, they're strong and have a lot of nicotine and stink like the devil's bum. They're popular with French blokes, and hip wankers at art colleges", said Jack.
Tatiana frowned as the strong cigarette smoke made her eyes water, even though she herself was a smoker. "Oh dear, how long is the trip to the train station?", she asked hopefully.
"About forty five minutes, lucky we can open the window", said Jack.
The bus stopped at a few more villages before going onto the motorway towards Marseille. The view from the now-open bus window was stunning with the Mediterranean gleaming like a polished dark blue turquoise under the sun, the cliffs brown and covered with stands of pine and shrubby bushes with the occasional flash of purple lavender adding color and scent. The city itself around the train station and on the outskirts was a rude shock after the bucolic beauty of St. Roch and the Riviera coast, the suburbs made of either identikit little houses in ugly pastel colours painted over grey concrete or big tower blocks in grey concrete that towered over them like petrified dinosaurs and appeared to block out the sun. "There's ugly buildings like this all over England outside the cities since many poor people's houses got bombed during the war and people needed somewhere to live. There's a town in south Manchester called Wythenshawe that is nothing but a massive council estate, I suppose it's good that poor people have a place to live but it's damned ugly, pardon my language. It's all identical little houses or massive tower blocks that all look alike, it's ugly but I suppose it's something", said Pierre with a sigh.
"Daddy, that's the ugly town on the motorway", said Nicole.
"It is an ugly town, but it's better than the old slums poor people had to live in. The people aren't bad people, just poor. It could be a lot worse, Nicole", Pierre told his daughter.
Mollie frowned when she saw the buildings. "Daddy, France is so pretty. Why do they have such ugly houses for poor people?", she asked.
"A lot of poor people moved here to look for work and the government had to build houses for them quickly, Mollie-Chan. I know they're ugly, but they had to build houses quickly and this is the quickest way to build a house. Unfortunately", said Jack with a frown.
The bus came to a stop at the station and the brothers made sure that the girls were holding on to their hands as they followed the signs to the train station. "Miss Tessa, you are going to like Belgium. Daddy's Daddy's people live in the hills of the Ardennes and they raise chickens and pigs and go hunting. It's so pretty", said Mollie.
"Our father went hunting too, for elk and deer. And we had chickens once as well, the hard part is getting the eggs from the hens", said Tatiana.
"Oh yes, the hens scratch and try to bite you with their beaks. I hated that, but we couldn't let Alex do it. I don't blame the hens, though, those eggs might be their babies", said Maria thoughtfully.
"Same here, I don't think anyone likes to collect the eggs. But if you don't, you'll end up with more chickens than you can eat and you can't sell them since people already have their own chickens. Chickens are fairly easy to raise so the farm families in Virton all have a little chicken coop with hens and roosters", said Pierre.
The girls' eyes lit up when they saw the train to Brussels, the sleek dark blue train resting on the tracks. "This goes straight onto Brussels and terminates in Amsterdam, other trains you have to chain in Paris. Paris is overrated, too crowded, too many tourists and the people are wankers", said Jack.
"Daddy, you said a bad word", chided Mollie.
"I know, Mollie-Chan. But I'm a grownup, when you're older you can say that", he teased.
The group boarded the train and found empty seats with the girls getting the window seats. "We could have flown, but it's boring. I'd rather take the train since it goes across France and the scenery is amazing. Plus it doesn't stop in Paris", laughed Jack.
"When did you go to Paris?", asked Tatiana.
"The week before I started my army service, some of my mates and I went to Paris for a week on holiday. Even though I speak French, I have a Belgian accent and the wankers would mock it since a Belgian accent is a yokel accent to Parisians. Plus it was very crowded, the place was full of Yank tourists taking pictures of everything and complaining no one spoke English. The line to see the Eiffel Tower was horrifyingly long and forget about the Arc d'Triomph or the Louvre, more Yanks and their cameras. Plus they were at the Louvre using flash cameras and being very loud, and many couldn't tell the difference between a Leonardo and a Raphael, and they thought the blokes were French but they're Italian. I don't mind Yanks in America, but when they go across the pond they turn into the worst sort of ignorant wankers", said Jack with a mock-shudder.
"I agree, Yanks are wonderful in the states but the worst sort of tourists. They seem to think they're visiting an amusement park, except for the university students and the very posh. Yank families are quite amusing, taking photos of everything and wearing brand new clothes for holiday", said Pierre with a laugh.
"Have you been to America?", asked Maria.
"Yes, New York City and Chicago for a meeting with my publisher since they have offices in both cities. New York is massive, bigger than London with all sorts of museums and theatres and galleries and everything is open all day and night. Chicago is a bit smaller but they have enormous skyscrapers and lovely parks along Lake Michigan, Juan regularly goes to Chicago to buy records for his club since he believes the Chicago music scene is better than in New York, he also likes Detroit", said Pierre.
"Someday we'll go to the states", vowed Maria as the train's whistle blew and the passengers scrambled aboard.
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Post by Tim on Jan 12, 2020 12:30:17 GMT -5
I think Belgium is safe, everyone
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Post by ladyfiaran22 on Jan 26, 2020 14:30:00 GMT -5
Chapter 34
"We'll meet the family in Virton tomorrow afternoon, we ought to rest up and look around Brussels", said Jack as the train pulled into the south station of Brussels. "Ohh, I can't wait to see Grandmere Lacroix! You've met Babcia who is Polish, Grandmere is our Belgian grandmother", said Mollie with a smile. "Of course, you're lucky to have two grandmothers. We only knew Papa's mother, Mama's mother died when she was a child", said Maria with a sigh. "Oh, was she hurt too?", asked Nicole. "Not like what happened to your mother, Nicole. Mama's mother died of a disease while nursing her children, many years ago", said Maria quietly. "How awful!", exclaimed Nicole in horror. "Nicole, people in England don't die like that anymore. And soon you're going to see Grandmere and our cousin Antoine, he's a good chap", said Jack. "Yeah, he was a player for Anderlecht until he injured his foot and his knee after getting tackled in the Belgian Cup. His career was over and he took the money the team gave him to go to a seminary and become a priest. He's the priest at Ste. Ursula in Virton", Pierre explained. "How interesting, when one door closes another opens", Tatiana mused aloud. "It does, he went from being a star footballer for the best team in Belgium to becoming a priest. Being a footballer for Anderlecht in Belgium is a very big deal, they're the best team in the country and have won a lot of Belgian Cups. But he's a good lad, he found something else instead of moping and drinking", said Pierre. "We're staying near the market square, it's a smashing place. There's a lot of flower and vegetable stalls set up in the mornings and the rest of the days there's stalls selling all sorts of things. In a few weeks there's going to be a big display of tulips in all different colours like a giant carpet, it's stunning. If we had time we could go to the Royal Museum and see their collections of Rubens and Van Dyck and all the great Flemish and Dutch artists, a lot of people don't realize Rubens was Belgian. I would love to show all you ladies some Hieronymus Bosch, but you may not be ready for it", teased Jack. "Daddy! Those paintings are scary", said Mollie with horror. "That's the point, they were supposed to scare people into acting better. And the one in the museum isn't even that scary, the really frightening ones are in the Prado in Madrid. The Spaniards seem to like to get the mickey scared out of them", Jack said with a laugh. "What is a Bosch?", asked Maria. "Hieronymus Bosch was a Dutch painter who did a lot of frightening religious works with people going to hell and such, very nightmarish stuff. He's very popular with Spaniards since a lot of his paintings are at the Prado in Madrid, but they can be scary if you're not prepared", said Pierre as Maria grimaced. "I agree, they don't sound like appropriate things for children", agreed Tatiana. Their hotel was in a beautiful old Baroque building overlooking the main square of the city, their rooms higher up and looking down at the street below. From the wrought iron balcony adorned with potted red and yellow geraniums they could see the various market stalls set up to sell fruits and vegetables, bread, sweets, flowers and various other little things as the vendors stood behind the counters and beckoned customers in French, Dutch, German and English. The flower and vegetable stalls were particularly attractive as their blooms and vegetation were in a brilliant array of colours in all different shades of the rainbow, primarily in various shades of red, orange and green with the other colours providing accents. "That's one thing we ought to have in Manchester, market stalls where you can buy fresh veg and flowers. There used to be one years ago when we were children but after the Blitz destroyed the centre, the council attracted supermarkets to replace them. Supposedly the markets weren't very healthy but buying produce at a supermarket isn't very interesting", said Pierre with a frown. "I've never been to a market before, I know there was one in St. Petersburg and in Tobolsk and in Ekaterinburg but we never were allowed to see them. It doesn't look unhealthy", said Maria. Pierre just shook his head and placed an arm around her waist as Maria giggled. "It's not, but people seem to think that if one's food is too close to the earth then it's not civilized. Our cherry tree grows real fruit and I tried to offer some to our neighbors but they weren't interested, they said the fruit still had dirt on it and they weren't as red as the cherries from Tesco's, but ours taste better", he replied. "Yeah, Daddy. Let's show Miss Maria, and maybe Uncle Jack will show Miss Tessa", said Nicole. "Of course, I want to show my girls around our father's land", chuckled Pierre. Maria giggled and blushed. "Am I your girl, Pierre?", she teased. "Yes, my girlfriend and Nicole is my daughter so you are both my girls", he laughed. "Then Miss Tessa is Uncle Jack's girlfriend, Daddy? He needs a girlfriend too", said Nicole matter-of-factly. "Yes, Nicole. Now let's see if they want to go to the market", said Pierre. Tatiana adjusted her wide-brimmed straw hat and sunglasses as Jack led her around the market stalls. It was a warm summer's afternoon on the verge of turning hot, the bright blue sky visible in between the handsome Baroque buildings of the square with the flowers and vegetables adding a lot of color to contrast with the brown buildings. "Ooh Daddy, the tulips are here!", said Mollie happily. "Belgium also has tulips but not as many as the Netherlands, the tulip season is still in bloom there. And of course mon frère grows tulips, I have a brown thumb", said Jack with a laugh. "Daddy, why can't you grow flowers like Uncle Pierre?", asked Mollie. "Because I need my hands for writing and I don't like the outdoors, Pierre is really good at growing things and I'm not. It's something we got from our grandmothers, Babcia's estate in Poland had beautiful gardens with all sorts of flowers and trees. Of course, the Bolsheviks tore up the gardens and used the soil to grow cabbages", said Jack in distaste. "There's nothing wrong with growing cabbages", said Tatiana. "Of course not, but the gardens were laid out in the 1700's and it had all sorts of roses and violets and lilies, all the colors and Babcia loved gardening and so did her father. They could have enlarged the vegetable garden but they had to destroy beautiful gardens. Typical Bolshevik swine", said Jack with a frown. At one of the flower stalls Jack bought a small bouquet of purple orchids and handed them to Tatiana. She was momentarily surprised but quickly regained her composure as she smiled in thanks, sniffing their delicate scent. "Thank you, only Papa has ever given me flowers", she murmured. "Then this is your first time getting flowers from a bloke, Tessa. Orchids represent refined beauty, Mamucia has a book on floral meanings. It's a good thing to know so you don't get dodgy flowers for a girl", he chuckled. "Yeah, because some flowers are for funerals or mean death or jealousy, especially yellow flowers", said Pierre as Maria clutched onto a bouquet of purple and white tulips. "Oohh, those are so pretty!", exclaimed Nicole. "Purple tulips represent nobility and rebirth, white tulips represent worthiness and security", said Pierre. "I see", said Maria as she slowly nodded in understanding and a smile spread on her face.
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Post by Tim on Jan 26, 2020 19:10:42 GMT -5
Lovely looking flowers.
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Post by ladyfiaran22 on Mar 25, 2020 9:20:49 GMT -5
Chapter 35
"Once we get to Virton, Antoine will pick us up. Just look for the miniature blue coach", said Jack as the group boarded the train.
"Yeah, it's a church mini-church. He's also the church driver for events, in addition to being a priest", said Pierre with a laugh.
"They can't hire a driver then? I hope there's no accidents", said Maria in alarm.
"Antoine is a good driver, he's got the Lord on his side", laughed Jack.
"Our church has got a coach but Father George doesn't drive it", said Mollie.
"You are going to love the Ardennes, ladies. There's lots of hills and forests, St. Stephane has a church which was built in the 1100's and an even older castle. Thankfully the Jerries didn't destroy either, and the previous priest hid the statue of St. Stephane in an outhouse on a farm outside the village. Not the best place, but God understands", said Pierre with a grim smile.
"That is a good idea, although rather, um, odd", said Tatiana as she tried to be tactful.
"Of course the Jerries wouldn't want to use a peasant outhouse, the statue is from about 1100 to 1200 and was commissioned by the Duc d' Foix, the local duke of the area. Some people say the statue performs miracles, but even then it's priceless", said Jack.
The last few passengers scrambled aboard as the train's whistle tooted. The train slowly pulled away from the platform and then out of the station, quickly bypassing the city centre and then the suburbs of Brussels. Past the city limits were neat little towns of dull modern houses surrounded by little plots of flowers and vegetation which provided welcome color. The further south they went, the land grew more rugged and big factories and their accompanying towns alternated with farms and sleepy provincial villages. "This is just like the northwest, cities and factories and towns and farms. But those factories mean money and jobs, Flanders is mostly farms but Wallonia has factories", said Pierre.
As the train moved to the far southwest of Belgium near the border of France and Luxembourg, the land had become mostly rural with the factories left behind. Low gentle hills covered in lush green forests surrounded them and each little town seemed to have both a little castle and a church, the castle often atop one of the low hills to act as a sentry over its town. With greenery and hills and villages under an azure sky, the whole tableaux strongly resembled a painting by Brueghel but on a less monumental scale.
The group got off the train at Virton and as expected their cousin Antoine Lacroix was there to meet them. "Bonjour, mes cousins. Et bonjour, mademoiselles Parker", he said, his French spoke with the heavy Walloon accent of southern Belgium.
"Bonjour, Pere Lacroix", Tatiana said politely.
"Non, call me Antoine. Only my parishioners call me Pere", he said kindly. The sisters were surprised that Father Antoine was a young man who didn't look older than thirty, tall and muscular with the Lacroix black hair and dark bluish-purple eyes. He wore black trousers and a buttoned-down black shirt which revealed his white clerical collar, a wooden cross around his neck.
"Maman is expecting you, I helped pluck a goose yesterday", said Antoine as he led them to a blue minibus with Eglise St. Stephane stenciled along the side.
"Tante Louise has geese, chickens and pigs on her farm", explained Jack.
"Chickens bite, Daddy", said Mollie in distaste.
"They do, but one has to brave the chicken bites to get the eggs, Mollie-Chan. But we are on holiday", teased Jack.
Antoine got behind the wheel of the bus and turned on the engine as he drove out of the lot. "St Stephane was chartered as a town in 1177, the church was completed and consecrated in 1178. Much of it is the original structure, we just patch it up when necessary. And I'm sure they have told you the story of the outhouse", Antoine laughed.
"Yes, Monsieur Lacroix. But at least the Germans didn't steal anything", said Tatiana.
"Oui, mademoiselle Parker. One ought to not speak badly of people, but Nazis are an exception. That statue of St. Stephane is older than the church, it looks to be Romanesque. The Nazis would have destroyed it since they were pagan devils", said Antoine grimly as he quickly touched the rosary hanging from the windshield mirror.
The drive from Virton's train station to the Lacroix farm was only about five miles but took nearly twenty minutes due to the narrow winding road leading out of town. The little bus barely fit on one side of the road and every turn made them clutch tightly onto their seats., more so whenever they passed a car or a truck. "This road only got paved after the war", Antoine explained as the bus passed a farm truck with barely a foot to spare.
Everyone was relieved when they arrived at the Lacroix farm nestled in a valley between two low hills. Antoine parked the bus in front of a modern concrete house surrounded by neatly trimmed rosebushes blooming in red and white and pink. Although the house was a modern one made of concrete to replace the old wooden one, it had been painted a warm peach color and pots of red geraniums hung in the windows, softening the austere concrete exterior. From the yard they could hear the clucking of chickens and geese, the oink of pigs and the bleating of goats from behind the house, along with the earthy yet not unpleasant aroma of the animals.
The men took the bags and Antoine led them inside the house. A pleasant and homey aroma of roasting goose, boiling potatoes and a baking pie filled the air as a plump middle-aged woman wearing an apron tied over her round belly embraced Antoine and the Lacroix brothers. "Bonjour, Tante Louise. Of course you remember Mollie and Nicole, but these are the Parker sisters, Maria and Tessa", said Jack with a grin.
"Bonjour, mademoiselles Parker. I am Louise Lacroix, my husband is at work in Liege. He works during the week and comes for the weekend", Louise explained.
"You have a lovely farm, Madame Lacroix. We did have farm animals in Tobolsk but no one liked fetching the eggs", said Maria with a laugh.
"No one does, but if we don't we will have too many chickens. I hope you like it here, mademoiselles Parker. I supposes after all that has happened, you will want a bit of a holiday", said Louise.
"We have already seen more countries and met more interesting people than we ever did in Russia", said Tatiana.
"Of course, the world is vast and there are so many different kinds of people out in the world. Wait until we go on my book tour in the summer, Tessa", teased Jack.
"I can't wait, I love Japan. I can stay with Mummy-Chan and my brothers, I want to see all of Japan, Daddy", declared Mollie.
"You will, Mollie-Chan", said Jack.
"I will make some tea. Antoine, show our guests to their rooms", ordered Louise.
"Oui, maman. Since it is only Maman and Papan here, we have extra rooms. My sister is married and lives in Lille, in France, with her family and I have a small flat in the rectory next to the church", explained Antoine.
"Are you supposed to live there? It must be lonely", said Maria sympathetically.
"Yes, to keep an eye on the church and so I can get ready for Mass easier. I'm not completely lonely, I have a housekeeper, Madame Martin. She's an older widow whose son died in the war, she treats me like a son", said Antoine.
"The fighting here was very bad during the war, there were several big battles and the Jerries destroyed much of the area. They executed local people who were partisans and deported the Jews, the few of them that were here. None of them came back", said Pierre sadly.
"We're only a few kilometers from the German border and there used to be a little German community here, but they left after the war. Good riddance, they were collaborators", said Jack in disgust.
"Oui, they had more food and rations and lived better than us. Good riddance", said Antoine as he hastily crossed himself.
He led them upstairs and opened one of the doors. "This used to be my sister's room, it's for the girls", he explained. The room was clearly that for a little girl, all pink and white chintz with two twin-sized beds covered in matching pink and white plaid quilts by a white wooden nightstand. It was topped by a porcelain lamp with a painted pink rose on its squat white body, the walls adorned with beige wallpaper on which were painted pink and white roses.
"Ooh, pretty", cooed Nicole as Mollie nodded.
Maria and Tatiana exchanged a dubious look. "Mademoiselles Parker, this way to your rooms. Lisette always liked pink things, I'm afraid. Maman has not changed the décor since she left", said Antoine with a shrug.
The other room was more to their taste as it was done in soft shades of pale blue and green with white trim, the window overlooking the fenced-in area where the chickens pawed and scratched at the dirt for seeds and worms. "The chickens go into their coops in the evening, we have a dog to guard the henhouse. There's foxes in the area", said Antoine.
"One has to guard the hens from Reynard", laughed Jack.
The sisters quickly unpacked their things as Maria went to look out the window. Look, the hens have chicks!", she exclaimed.
Tatiana just shook her head and gave her younger sister a little smile, opening the cigarette case and lighting a Regal. "Of course, Mashka. Chickens lay eggs all the time", she teased.
Maria reached for her own cigarette case, an aluminum one like Tatiana's except that hers had enameled lilacs on the lid in soft pink and purple. She lit her own cigarette and took a drag as she exhaled. "But the chicks are so cute. To bad one has to harvest the eggs", she mused aloud.
"Of course, then there would be too many chickens for the family to eat", Tatiana retorted with a smile.
Maria finished her cigarette and stubbed it out on an ashtray on the table. "I know, but I still don't like the idea of taking the hen's children. I didn't realize the eggs were the hen's babies until Tobolsk. I knew eggs came from hens, but I didn't make that connection until Siberia", said Maria.
Tatiana finished her own cigarette and left the spent butt in the ashtray. "Mashka, you have a very tender heart. You are going to make an excellent mother", she said.
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Post by Tim on Mar 25, 2020 11:11:43 GMT -5
Wonder how Alexandra took it when she heard about World War II?
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