The Exchange

Chapter 25- Mon Canard

The sky was a pure blue, casting out the usual whispy clouds that filled the atmosphere and the hum of insects was heavy in the air. It was the endless drawl of summer, and the days seemed to drone on and on.

Sasha lay on the picnic blanket dressed only in Julien's t-shirt with a beer in one hand and a half eaten strawberry in the other. Julien lay beside her with his damp head resting on his arm. They had positioned the blanket so that their torso's were in the shade but their legs were baking in the sun. The warm temperature was making them both drowsy and Julien had closed his eyes, dozing slightly.

"Tell me about you're life in France. What do you do?", Sasha asked, leaning on her elbow to face him.

"What do you mean?", he replied, keeping his eyes shut.

A fly buzzed past Sasha's ear so she could hear the intricate whirring of it's wings, "Well what do you do when you wake up and how do you spend you're day? Where do you go to relax or have fun? Who do you spend your time with?"

Julien smiled sleepily, "That's a lot of questions".

Finishing her strawberry Sasha chucked the green stalk into the bushes before poking Julien on his side.

He sighed, opening his eyes a crack, and licked his lips as though he were about to tell her a long story, "So I live in a place called Marseille in South of France. It is hot in summer and warm in winter, well warmer than here anyway. It is a city with a beach or une ville sur la côte (A city by the coast). My family stays in a small house which is also near my friend, Jean-Marc's. We go to the beach or to bars and whenever we can spend time in Paris. Many of my other friend's have houses there".

"And what do you want to do? Will you go to university?"

Julien frowned at her question, "I don't know, I play piano a bit. That is what I really want to do, and I want to study at the Conservatoire de Paris. But of course, this is only a dream as it is very difficult to get in".

Sasha gasped before placing her hands flat against Julien's chest and resting her chin on them to gaze at him, "You didn't tell me you play the piano! And don't sell yourself short! You must be good if they're considering offering you a place".

"My mother didn't want me to come to England", he explained, "she said that I should stay at home and continue my practices. It's very intensive. But I'm not sure if I will actually accept if I get my place anyway".

"Why not?!", Sasha blurted.

Julien observed her, considering his answer, "Well, I must stay home and look after mon père (my father). My mamon (mother) is getting older and will need more help".

Sasha bit her lip, it wasn't her place to tell him what to do and she was worried that if she did speak her thoughts she would push him away again the way she always seemed to. Besides it wouldn't be right interfering in his business when she knew so little of his everyday life and how his family coped. But if he did get in it seemed stupid to turn such an amazing oppurtunity down.

"Would you play for me sometime?", she asked.

Julien's brow became creased, confused by her request, "But you don't have a piano-".

"No, but my neighbours do", Sasha grinned, cutting over him. She reached for Julien's hand and held it up to the light, "I should have guessed you played an instrument. You do have pianist hands".

He laughed, "Pianist hands?"

Nodding, she brushed a thumb over his palm, "You have long, smooth fingers, see?". 

Julien remained quiet for a while, and she could feel his muscles stiffen beneath her, "I've been playing since I was very young. There's not many things that make mon père (my father) smile. My mamon (mother) is one and the other is when I play piano. Maybe it reminds him of when his mother played piano".