TWENTY SIX

The hitch-hiking from Hyères had not been very successful. First Jean-Marc got half a lift along the coast and then inland into the village of Le Castellet. Then another lift back to the coast at Bandol. By mid afternoon it was getting too hot to stand by the road waiting for the very occasional car and also he was getting hungry. Taking the ferry hop across the bay to Bendor, a little island just a few hundred metres offshore, Jean-Marc set off in search of something to eat, and an escape from the crowd on the beach in Bandol.

The few restaurants and bars all seemed to be closed, siesta time he supposed, and even the ice cream stall was deserted. For want of something better to do, he sat on the little beach and started playing the guitar. There was an urgent need to get the new songs finished and into a presentable form.

Some young teenage girls were playing nearby in the sea, one of the girls, a lanky brunette about 12 or 13 were especially interested in the music. Overcoming her initial shyness, she came over after a while and held out a packet of potato crisps, "tu veux un chips" she asked, her French had a sort of Spanish yet oriental twang to it. Being absolutely famished, Jean-Marc readily accepted. "Do you speak English?" he asked, "Just a little, I am Domenica".

"That's a pretty name, where are you from?"

"Je suis une voyageuse dans le temps"

"A time traveller? What do you mean?"

"La dernière fois tu parlais bien français" she responded

"I spoke good French? When was that?"

"I go to the chateau now, à la prochaine, see you again ....."