Part One

Piper was at a loose end. Mid-way through the long summer holidays, and she’d run out of things to do.

The first week had been spent on a family holiday. This year was no different to last year, or the year before, or every year as long as she can remember - as far as Piper knew, she’d been to the same caravan on the same caravan park in Wales for each of the 14 years she’d been alive.

It’s not that the caravan was bad, it was quite nice; with comfy beds, a good kitchen, and the view of the mountains of Snowdonia was amazing if you like that sort of thing. This year she’d even learnt they are now called Eryri, the Welsh name.

The biggest problem with the caravan park is they meet the same people every year, and they’re mostly old people, and they do the same things, on the same days.

This year Piper had a nice surprise, a new family arrived, Piper was hopeful of finding a boy to talk to, because the couple were about her parents’ age, but they only had a baby.

Piper came to know the baby well, as her parents spent every evening in the bar with the new couple, so Piper was left to babysit. She enjoyed babysitting, the couple’s caravan was newer than theirs, and it had a better TV with satellite, and Wi-Fi, so she could watch Netflix. After a bit of tinkering, she found a saucy channel on the satellite, so she spent her evenings leisurely masturbating while Billie the baby slept beside her on the sofa.

She was a little sorry when the left at the end of the week, she’d enjoyed babysitting, and not just the saucy TV channel.

The last two weeks had involved a few day trips, including a visit to a new dinosaur exhibit at the local museum. Despite her protests, she had enjoyed the dinosaurs, especially when she found out the man who invented the word dinosaur, Sir Richard Owen, came from the city. She was also excited to learn that velociraptors weren’t much bigger than a big dog; she spent the rest of the afternoon imagining walking a velociraptor in the park, and watching it chase the squirrels like all the other dogs do.

Now her parents were back at work, so no trips out, although she had been given some money for bus fares if she wanted to go swimming, and she could walk to the cinema if she wanted.

But ... she didn’t want to do any of that, she wanted to talk to a boy, and there weren’t any around here ... at least none she wanted to talk to, they were either too young, too old, or too weird ... Jason who lived four doors up the road usually had a trail of snot running from his nose, and he always stared at her when she was lying on the grass on the common.

She was sitting in her room listening to Sabrina Carpenter and reading a Holly Jackson book when she heard a lorry pulling up outside, she ran to the window and saw a big removal truck.

The new people were moving into number 64!

A family car stopped in front of the truck and a woman stepped out, she looked about 35, promising, Piper thought, as she tidied her hair, then decided she needed a better t-shirt, something a little tighter, to show her boobs; they’d just started growing and she really liked how they looked.

Mum had said a family were moving in, and she thought they had a boy and a girl.

Piper ran downstairs and filled the kettle, setting it to boil as she gathered mugs ... I wonder how far they’ve travelled, she thought as she popped a teabag in each mug. Mum had a teapot, but it wouldn’t fill all these mugs.

Piper checked herself in full-length mirror in hallway, she looked OK, but she could look better, so she pulled the back of her t-shirt out and tied it in a knot. She pushed out her chest and looked in the mirror again.

Now she looked perfect...

No not quite...

She ran back upstairs and sat at her dressing table and looked critically at her hair.

She’d dyed it pink on the night school finished for the summer, her blonde roots were just starting to show, she didn’t think that was a problem, but she needed a look to distract from the blonde roots, just in case someone did notice.

She quickly combed her hair and parted it in the middle, pulling it into two pig tails. She tied each pigtail at the top with a bobble, then quickly twisted each tail into a rope, then coiled it around, fixing it with hair clips.

In no time she had a pair of space buns, and now she did look perfect.

The removal men had the back of the big truck open and were lowering a long ramp as Piper opened the front door. The mother was supervising the unloading, so Piper walked to the garden gate to introduce herself.

“Hi, I’m Piper, I live here at 68 ... obviously” she added with a nervous giggle.

She wasn’t normally nervous around new people, but she’d noticed the mother was very pretty; she had long, shiny red hair and piercing green eyes.

“Hi Piper, I’m Rachel.”

“Have you come far?”

“Today, no, we parked up just outside Heysham late last night and stayed in a hotel. We drove up from France yesterday.”

“Oh, you don’t sound French...”

“Ahh, I’m not, my husband Jacques is, my children are a confusing mix.”

“Why have you moved here, I don’t think it’s as nice here as France.”

“Well, Paris isn’t anywhere near as glamorous as the films make it look,” Rachel laughed.

Piper liked Rachel’s laugh, it was genuine ... and sexy.

“Jacques works for the company who own the power station, he’s part of the team who will be shutting down the old reactor and building a new one. He’s going to be based here for about 10 years, and it’s a long commute from here to Paris every weekend, so we decided to move with him. Besides, I was born here.”

“Oh, whereabouts,” Piper asked, pleased that someone so glamorous was born in the area.

“Literally here, in your house.”

“Oh wow, seriously! That’s amazing. Err ... I’ve just put the kettle on and have many mugs out for tea, if you’d like a drink.”

“That would be lovely, but maybe later when we’re finished unloading ... err, would it be awful of me if I asked you to entertain my children for a while, they’re kind of in the way while we’re moving heavy furniture about.”

“That’s no problem.”

“Great, I’ll go collect them ... err could you supervise the removal men while I’m away, some of the furniture is very old ... some of it came from your house...” she laughed.

Oh my, Piper thought, that laugh does very interesting things to me.

Rachel soon returned with a couple of kids in tow, Piper was mildly annoyed that the boy was quite young, the girl though was her age, and she was like a Rachel mini-me. Piper had planned to seduce the boy if he was old enough, but she was totally flexible, the girl would be fine ... and Rachel ... oh my, she felt stirrings down below just thinking of her name.

“So, the tyke is Max, he’s nearly 10. The little beauty is Camille.”

“Hello, I’m Piper, do you want to come inside for a bit.”

“I love your hair,” Camille said as she followed Piper, pulling Max along.

“Thank you. I love your accent; did you live in France long?”

“I was born here, like right here, in this house...”

“Oh wow, your mum was too, I love that.”

“We moved to France when I was little, Max was born in Paris.”

“Err ... I expected all the adults to want a cup of tea,” Piper said, explaining the array of mugs to Camille, “would you like a tea, or I’ve got Coke or Dr Pepper.”

“Coke would be nice; do you have milk? Max only drinks milk, because he’s weird.”

“He’s very quiet,” Piper whispered as she pulled a couple of cans and the milk from the fridge.

“Trust me, it’s better this way, once he speaks, he won’t shut up,” Camille sighed, handing him a glass of milk as Piper returned the bottle to the fridge.

“Does he understand English,” Piper asked.

“Oh yes, we speak mostly English at home. I think he’s a bit overwhelmed with house move.”

“What’s it like in Paris? I’ve only been as far as Wales.”

“It’s OK, there’s lots of art, and theatre, and culture, but we avoid those places, because they’re far too crowded with tourists. We lived in a big apartment in the 10th arrondissement, which is next to the 9th arrondissement, obviously. The 9th is full of galleries and theatres and fancy hotels, the 10th has two of Europe’s busiest railway stations.”

“Ahh, that’s annoying,” Piper sympathised.

“It’s fine, because our street was quiet, and we lived within walking distance of school, and dad’s office. Do you have any cartoon channels?”

“Yes, there’s CBeebies on the telly, and a couple of other kids’ channels.”

“Great, put some cartoons on, then you can do my hair like yours.”

Upstairs, Camille looked around Piper’s room while Piper tidied her dressing table.

“I like your posters; I think we have similar tastes.”

“I love Sabrina Carpenter; me and mum are going to see her in Manchester.”

“We saw her in Paris last year,” Camille replied.

“Oh wow, what are her concerts like?”

“Ahh, we didn’t see her concert, we saw her in person, she was going to the Eiffel Tower.”

“Oh my god! I’d die! What’s she like, is she as pretty in person?”

“I didn’t see her up close, all I can say for definite is she’s tiny, she was with a woman and a boy around Max’s age, and he was nearly as tall as she is.”

“Oh wow, I thought she’d be taller than me.”

“It’s lucky they have big screens at concerts,” Camille replied as she sat at Piper’s dressing table.

Piper spent a while brushing out Camille’s hair, at one point her brush slipped.

“Are you OK,” Camille asked.

“Err ... fine ... I just got a look down your top and saw your cleavage ... I wish I had a cleavage.”

Camille turned in her seat and appraised Piper, “Your boobs look OK, I bet you could have a cleavage with a good bra.”

“Mum won’t buy me any more bras until I’ve grown out of the ones I have.”

Camille started to unbutton her blouse, “you can have this one, mum won’t mind, she always says it’s better to give than receive.”

Piper’s heart stopped when she saw her new friend’s breasts. They were a little bigger than her own, and Camille’s nipples were pink and naturally a little erect.

“You’re beautiful!” Piper gushed.

“Take your t-shirt off, I bet your boobs are just as beautiful ... I can already see your nipples,” she giggled, “which is promising.”

Piper wasn’t wearing a bra, in truth she didn’t need one yet, her little B-cups were firm, they didn’t need support, and she enjoyed the feeling of them moving as she ran ... the only time a bra was a good idea is when she was excited and didn’t want anyone to notice her perky nipples.

“Oh my, I like your boobs,” Camille exclaimed as Piper lifted her t-shirt, “can I touch them?”

“Only if I can touch yours...”

The girls moved closer, Camille reached out and touched Piper’s left breast, she placed her hand over it, Piper shivered as Camille ran her thumb over the already erect nipple.

“You can touch mine now,” Camille whispered.

Piper ran her hand over Camille’s breast, then she brought her lips to Camille’s full lips, and they kissed.

Camille shook her head as the separated, “wow!” she cried, blinking at the sensations in her head and chest, “that was amazing.”

Piper held her chest, feeling her racing heart, “yes, that was very nice.”

“Nice ... and unexpected...” Camille gasped

“Was I OK doing it ... err ... I didn’t do wrong, did I?”

“If you hadn’t kissed me, I was definitely going to kiss you,” Camille laughed.

They gradually came to their senses and realised they were topless with the door and curtains open. If Max came up exploring, he’d see them both.

Camille slipped back into her blouse, buttoning it up as Piper put on Camille’s bra. Camille adjusted the straps and fastener until it was the perfect fit.

Piper sat at her dressing table and admired herself in the mirror, “I’ve got a cleavage, thank you so much!”

“Do you have any V-neck t-shirts, or polo shirts?”

“I do,” Piper replied.

“You need to show off that cleavage now you’ve got one.”

After Piper had found a suitable polo shirt, and they agreed she looked amazing, she set about fixing Camille’s hair, finishing it just as Max shouted that their mum was on her way.

Piper had just popped the kettle back on when Rachel knocked on the door, Camille let her in, she was followed by Jacques and three removal men.

“Have you had fun?” Rachel whispered.

“Yes mum.”

“I can tell, you’re not wearing a bra anymore, I can see your nipples,” she laughed.

“I’ve given Piper my bra, she doesn’t have any nice ones.”

“That’s lovely,” Rachel told her, “You’ve always been very kind, but maybe you should wash your face before your dad sees your smudged lipstick ... the same goes for Piper.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not, Piper seems like a lovely girl.”

That night, as she lay in bed, Piper touched herself as she thought about the day.

She thought about Camille, the kiss was very unexpected, she couldn’t believe she’d managed to work up the courage to do it. It was very exciting as well, Camille had wonderful lips, and the feeling as their tongues touched. Out of this world.

She thought about Rachel, she didn’t think she’d ever met anyone quite so beautiful. Then her mind turned to Jacques. He was older than Rachel, maybe he was 50 or more. He looked as old as the oldest teachers at school.

Why would someone so beautiful be married to an old man? It’s not even like he was attractive, like George Clooney.

She thought about how they acted ... they sat on different sofas, and they didn’t look at each other while they drank their tea.

She thought about her mum and dad. They were as old as Rachel, and they were still in love ... she knew this because she often heard them having sex. They also looked at each other, and they smiled at each other.

She also knew her parents had sex with other people ... like with the new couple at the caravan this year. They were having sex while she babysat Billie. She wasn’t mad, because she enjoyed babysitting, and the sexy TV channel.

She’d seen her mum with other men, and she’d seen her kissing Jordan’s mum. She’d used her dad’s binoculars to make sure it was her mum kissing Jordan’s mum in Jordan’s house. They went upstairs and Piper was hoping to watch them having sex, but Jordan’s mum closed the curtains.

Jordan’s mum was very pretty, but a bit dumpy, she had huge boobs, they were as big as her mum’s head. Piper wondered what it was like snuggling up to huge boobs like that.

Her mum was quite giddy when she returned, she blamed Jordan’s dad’s homemade wine, but Piper knew it was because she’d had sex, and a lot of it, she smelt all musky. Besides, Jordan’s dad was at work, and he’d never let anyone drink his wine if he’s not there to open the bottle properly.

Piper almost came as she thought about her mum having sex with Jordan’s mum. She’d not managed to orgasm yet ... she wondered if Camille would help her have one next time she visits.

A few days later, Rachel came round and asked if Piper wanted to go shopping. Camille had an interview at the Grammar School, so they had to go to the city.

“Oh wow! I go to the Grammar School, this is so exciting, if they put her in my classes, she won’t need a buddy, I can do the job. Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Camille is getting Max ready, then she’s taking him around to my cousin’s house. Max is not at his best in the morning, so she’ll be a while. A cup of tea would be lovely, thank you,” Rachel replied as she followed Piper to the kitchen.

“Where does your cousin live?”

“Just on the next street,” she replied, pointing out of the kitchen window.

“Oh really!” Piper replied, adding, “I think my mum is having an affair with a lady on that street.”

“Oh my, I hope it’s Ella,” Rachel replied, laughing.

“I don’t know her first name,” Piper replied, sadly, “I just know she’s my friend Jordan’s mum.”

“Ahh, it’s not Ella then, she doesn’t have children.”

“Jordan’s mum doesn’t look anything like you, so is unlikely to be your cousin,” Piper replied, passing Rachel a mug of tea.

“I’ve not met your parents yet.”

“They both work, so during most of the holidays, I’m home alone from about 8 in the morning to 6 in the evening. They trust me not to set fire to anything or throw any wild parties.”

“I’m not working yet, you’re welcome to come round to our house if you want, I know Camille would enjoy your company.”

“Me too ... err, I’ve a bit of a confession to make ... I kissed Camille on Monday...”

“I know you did,” Rachel replied, smiling disarmingly, “it’s OK.”

“I feel like I need to explain anyway. Mum told me a family were moving in, with a boy and a girl. I was feeling saucy, so I decided to check out the boy...”

“Hence the hair and the tight t-shirt...” Rachel smiled.

“You noticed?”

“I did, and I certainly enjoyed the view. Max though, he’s a bit oblivious right now. Maybe dress like a cat if you want to get his attention.”

“He’s a bit young for me...” Piper grimaced.

“Just a little.”

“So, I didn’t intend to seduce Camille, it just happened ... the kiss was nice, I’d like to try it again.”

“And so would Camille.”

“Are you OK, if things work out, and Camille dates a girl.”

“My cousin Ella is gay, and I think she’s the most wonderful woman around ... does that answer your question?”

“It does, thank you.”

Piper was just choosing a suitable jacket when Camille arrived, any lingering doubts Piper had about Camille’s feelings were cast aside with the hug she received at the door.

“I’ve been thinking about you all the time since Monday.”

If the words didn’t melt Piper, the Parisian accent certainly did.

“Me too” Piper replied, “your mum says you have an interview at the Grammar School today.”

“Yes, I’m so excited.”

“So am I, because I go to the Grammar School.”

“Really!” Camille cried, hugging Piper again, “this is amazing news, I hope I get to be in your classes, so I know I’ve got a friend from the first day.”

“Your steering wheel is on the wrong side,” Piper observed as she clambered into the back of Rachel’s Renault.

“That’s because it’s a French car, where they drive on the other side of the road.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Because they’re weird,” Rachel laughed, “I’m going to try to trade it in, but I guess I’ll lose a lot of money on the trade in, as the dealer will need to send it back to France.”

“It’s a nice car though, I like the seats, they’re much comfier than dad’s car.”

They were about 20 minutes early for Camille’s interview, so Piper gave Rachel and Camille a whistlestop tour of the school, including her form room, the library and the school hall.

They arrived back at the reception desk just as the admissions officer was about to call her name.

“Ahh, sorry Miss, I was just giving Camille a tour.”

“Ohh, thank you Piper, that’s saved me a job.”

“Camille lives two doors away from me ... would it be cheeky to ask if she could go in some of my classes ... providing you give her a place, and there’s room in my classes...”

“I’ll see what I can do,” she smiled at Piper, before turning to Rachel, “I’m assuming you’re Camille’s mother...”

“Yes, Rachel Duchamp...” she replied, shaking Mrs Fergusson’s hand warmly.

“Camille will be a couple of hours, she has a couple of tests, then an interview with the head teacher...”

“Nobody mentioned tests!” Camille exclaimed, “I’ve not revised anything.”

“These aren’t tests you can revise,” Mrs Fergusson assured her, “they’re to gauge your general ability in Maths and English.”

Camille relaxed when she realised she wouldn’t be quizzed on history or science.

“We’ll pop into town,” Rachel said, “Piper can give me a tour, it’s over 10 years since I’ve been shopping in Lancaster.”

Camille whispered something in her mum’s ear, “yes, that’s a good idea,” Rachel replied.

“Can I leave my car here,” Rachel asked Mrs Fergusson.

“Of course you can, it’s almost certainly quicker walking to the shops than driving and trying to find somewhere to park.”

“Shall we stop for tea and cake first?” Rachel asked.

“If you like, there’s a great café at the bottom of the hill; it’s vegan, but the cakes are so lush you’d never guess.”

“That sounds just fine to me,” Rachel replied.

While Piper checked out the cakes, Rachel checked the tea selection and ordered a pot of Russian Caravan.

Once Piper chose her cake, an organic dark chocolate brownie, they chose a table in the far corner of a side room.

“Well, this is kind of ironic,” Rachel observed as she settled into a very old, but very comfortable armchair.

“What is?”

“Well, this vegan café used to be a gunsmith’s shop. They used to sell very expensive handmade shotguns to farmers and hunters. They made a lot of guns upstairs, and if I remember rightly, they filled the shells in this room.”

“Really? How long ago was that?”

“Not that long ago. I used to come in here with my grandad, he was a gamekeeper at an estate near Kendal. I think it was still open when we moved to France.”

They stopped chatting as their tea and cakes arrived, Rachel had chosen a lemon drizzle cake. Piper was right, the cakes were lush.

“There’s no milk,” Piper observed as Rachel poured the smoky brew into two hand-made stoneware teacups.

“You don’t need milk with this tea,” Rachel told her, “try a little, if it’s too bitter, ask for some milk, almond milk should be OK in this tea.”

“Oh yes, it’s nice ... not at all like the tea we drink at home, which is the cheapest tea from the Co-op round the corner.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Co-op 99 tea,” Rachel told her, “That’s the stuff I grew up on. Today, though, we’re having a treat.”

Piper bit her lip nervously, “mmm ... could I ask you a question Mrs Duchamp?”

“You can, as long as you promise to call me Rachel.”

“OK ... Rachel ... err ... Mr Duchamp, he’s older than you, I think, a lot older.”

“Ahh, I didn’t expect that question,” Rachel replied, before taking a bite of her lemon drizzle cake, “oh wow, that is so moist, you’d never guess it was vegan ... we’re definitely coming here again ... I think we’ll come back later with Camille; I like the sound of their scrambled tofu burrito. So, Jacques ... can I trust you with a secret, Piper?”

“I think so,” Piper replied, blowing across her cup to cool the tea a little, “he’s not a spy, is he?” she asked, excitedly, as she put her cup down.

Rachel laughed out loud, Piper very much enjoyed listening to Rachel’s laugh.

“No ... he’s not a spy. At least, I hope he isn’t a spy. You see, Jacques isn’t Camile’s dad. He knows this, obviously, and Camille knows; but nobody else does.”

“Is he Max’s dad?”

“Yes, he’s Max’s dad,” Rachel replied, before finishing her tea and pouring them both a second cup.

Piper used Rachel’s thinking time to sample her brownie.

Oh my god, it’s heavenly!

“I was young when I fell pregnant with Camille,” Rachel started, “I was in 6^th form, doing my A-levels...”

“Did you go to the Grammar School?”

“Oh no, I was at the local school.”

“I started there, but mum moved me to the Grammar, she says that school has changed, and they don’t have good enough teachers anymore, they also bullied a girl who transitioned to a boy so bad he killed himself.”

“Oh my god, that’s so bad! I’m glad I chose the Girls’ Grammar School for Camille. So yes, Camille ... I found out I was pregnant just before Christmas in year 13. The father, Kyle disappeared as soon as I told him. Mum suggested I have an abortion, she said a baby would ruin my life. I suspected she was right, but I couldn’t face having an abortion, and it’s not like I’d been raped or anything. I fully consented to having sex with Kyle ... I consented quite often, if I’m honest,” she added with a giggle. “So, you see, my baby would be a reminder of a beautiful boy I loved, even if he did run away from his responsibilities.”

“Did you manage to do your A-levels?”

“I did, and considering the circumstances, I got decent grades. Camille hung on until I finished my last exam. My waters broke that evening, and I gave birth in the kitchen about 5 o’clock the next morning. I even managed to squeeze into a nice dress for the Prom later that month.”

“So, where does Jacques come in?”

“Ahh, Jacques...” Rachel smiled, thinking of days gone by, “so, I was just 18, I had a baby and no realistic prospects. Mum took me to mother and baby classes, and we spoke to the benefits people, who gave me a small amount of money, but nowhere near enough to get myself anywhere other than one of those dingy flats on the front; there’s no way I would have felt safe living in any place I could afford.”

“So, what happened?”

“Jacques happened,” Rachel replied, with genuine warmth.

Maybe Piper had read them wrong.

“You know the house at the end of the row?”

“The one after the car park gate?”

“Yep, that one. It belongs to the power station, and they use it for any French staff who come over and stay for more than a few weeks.”

“So why aren’t you using it now?”

“Aren’t you smart,” Rachel laughed, “It’s only two bedrooms, and we need three, and Jacques will retire at the end of his current placement, so we’ll need a house then, so we thought we’d buy one now.”

“Ahh, I see ... you say retire...”

“He’s not that old, he’ll be working for another 10 years, maybe 15, we’ll see how well his project goes. OK, so, back to me and a slightly unwanted baby ... oh, that sounds bad, I love Camille, and have done since she took her first breath...”

“Maybe unplanned,” Piper offered.

“Yes, that’s a better word. So, Jacques used to relax on the grass common, he smoked back then, horrible stinky French cigarettes, and he wasn’t allowed to smoke in the house, so he’d bring out a chair, a book and a bottle of wine, and he’d watch all the kids – not in a weird way!” she added quickly, “he was younger then, obviously, late 30’s, I like men about that age, and he was exotic, with his wine, his Albert Camus and Jean Paul Sartre books and French cigarettes. So naturally, I would chat to him as I walked past with Camille in her pram.

“One day I had a row with mum, she felt I was in the way, cluttering the house with Camille’s things. I stormed out of the back door with Camille. I’d been crying and Jacques spotted my red eyes and tears down my cheeks. He finished his cigarette, gave me a small glass of wine, then he joined me for a walk down to the beach. I was a nice day, late September I think, so we took a walk along the beach – Jacques pushed Camille, because it’s not easy pushing a pram through sand.

“Jacques asked me why I was upset, and I decided to be honest with him; I told him about my row with mum, a row that came after a few days of bickering about Camille, about her crying, about her toys, about her cot and her nappies, she even complained about me breast feeding in the kitchen. Breast feeding! It’s the most natural thing in the world, but mum decided it was dirty, and said I was teasing dad – how could I tease dad if he wasn’t even in the house?

“Poor Jacques, our first proper chat and I hit him with both barrels. He was lovely though, he said if I was in the way at home, I could stay at his house, there’s a spare bedroom, and a box room I could use for Camille’s things. And when things cooled down at home, I could move back.”

“So, you moved in with Jacques?” Piper asked.

“Yes, as soon as I got home, I told mum that I was moving in with Jacques, and when she felt like apologising for the things she’d called me, I was willing to talk.”

“Did your mum apologise?”

“Yes, as Jacques helped me carry my things out of the backdoor, she apologised.”

“So, what did you do?”

“I moved in with Jacques. At first, I moved into his spare room, then once Camille was old enough to be left on her own, I moved into Jacques’ bed. When we found out he was returning to Paris, he proposed, and we married a few weeks later. Mum and dad gave us some furniture for our new home in Paris, as Jacques had sold most of his furniture when he came to the UK, because he didn’t know how long he would be staying in the UK.”

“How old was Camille when you moved?”