The Life We Once Knew

Salt and Pepper?

Over the New Year, Paul thought it would be a wonderful idea to go to Paris. So wonderful, in fact, that he forgot to inform me prior to actually leaving. He was so wrapped up in the idea of spending New Year's in Paris that he forgot to tell the person he wanted to go with. 

An abrupt knocking on the door pulled me out of my slumber. I groggily sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and grumbling under my breath. Vaguely, I remembered I was having a nice dream and I became angry at whoever was at my door for ruining it. I sluggishly got out of bed and began to make my way towards the front door, running into several walls and tables in the process.

"What the bloody-" I flung open the door, "Paul, what're you doing?"

Paul looked me up and down, "Why're you in your jammies? It's noon."

"Sometimes I like to sleep, besides, I asked first."

"I got us tickets, we leave in two hours."

I stared at him blankly. He held up the tickets, grinning madly and waiting for me to respond. All I could do was stare at him. My head was still filled with the fog of sleep, I could only focus on one thing at a time. At that moment, for some reason, my brain decided to focus on the mustache Paul was growing to cover the marks leftover from his motorbike incident.

"Paul," I smirked, leaning against the door.

He lifted an eyebrow, "What?"

"I mustache you a question."

"Oh, haha, very funny," Paul rolled his eyes, "You're a git, Lia."

I giggled, "Takes one to know one, Paulie. Really, though, where we goin'?"

Paul lifted an eyebrow, "Paris, Lia, don't you remember?"

"Since when were we going to Paris?"

"Since an hour ago when I got the tickets," he replied, "Remember, I said we ought to spend New Year's in Paris."

I yawned, "You never said we were actually doin' it."

"It was implied!"

I shook my head trying to clear the fog wrapping around my brain. All I could think was how that mustache made him look like our Dad back in his sailor days. I couldn't focus on the idea of going to Paris, let alone actually doing it. Paul looked at me expectantly. I ran a hand through my hair and asked, "How long we stayin'?"

"Just the weekend, we'll be back on the first," Paul began to get even more excited, "It'll be gear, Lia! Mal's comin' too."

"Mal? Mal Evans?"

"Do you know another Mal?"

I chuckled, "Got me there. Alright, I'm game, let me get my stuff together."

"Gear! I'll meet you back here in an hour."

"Jolly good."

With that, I shut the door. I wandered into the hall with a sleepy smile on my face. I barely thought of what to pack for me or for Vera. My head was still stuck in the dreamworld. All of a sudden, I stopped and furrowed my brow.

"Hang it all," I muttered, "Did I just agree to go to Paris?"

Storms Over London had just gotten started and we were all due for a soundcheck on the second of January. It seemed like a bad idea to leave the country, even if I was coming back the day before. Ellen would tell me no in an instant, oddly, that made me want to do it more. Something about the sense of rebellion made it feel like the old days.

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

I got myself and Vera dressed and ready to go. She was still half asleep as she watched me throw our belongings into a suitcase. Her eyes followed every article of clothing, looking even closer whenever I packed her favorite blanket. Rubbing her eyes, she asked, "Where we goin'?"