Chapter 16: Asen!

Melanie had been traveling light, but never as light as this. They were riding David's scooter along the coastal motorway, heading for Barcelona. The warm summer air was flowing around them and she felt supremely at ease. It had taken perhaps two hours to persuade David to come along, but he had insisted on taking the scooter, making it a long two-day trip instead of a one-hour flight. In spite of her original trepidations, Melanie was enjoying the trip. The beautiful landscape of the Spanish coast was flying by, she was holding on to David, and she would spend the next weeks with him. Everything else was secondary.

They had to skirt the huge city of Barcelona to the east, and in the town of Terrassa, they found a motel room for the night. Nobody knew them, nobody cared for them. They were lost between millions of tourists from all over Europe. They had dinner in a small, family-owned restaurant, and later they made love in their less-than-three-star motel room. It did not diminish the experience.

At breakfast, on the next morning, Melanie was recognized by a British girl of perhaps sixteen. Melanie saw it from the way the girl blushed. She never made a scene but rather stared into her tea cup. Finally, Melanie took pity. Rummaging in her bag, she found the small pack of photographs she carried for fans and selected one. On their way out, she stopped at the table where the girl was now unable to look anywhere but at Melanie.

"Thank you for keeping this quiet," Melanie whispered. "What's your name?"

"M-Mary. Mary Haversham."

Melanie wrote, 'For Mary Haversham. Love, Melanie Renault' on the back of the print and handed it to her fan. "You have a nice vacation."

Mary found her voice again. "Thank you so much, Miss Renault! Is that your friend David?"

Grinning maliciously, Melanie nodded. "Yes, dear. Would you like his autograph too?"

The girl nodded silently and a flustered David had to sign the back of the picture too.

"M-may I ask why you're here?" the girl asked shyly.

"I'm shooting a movie in France. We had to take a break and so I visited Davy in Granada. He's driving me back."

"Oh, I thought you and he were ... separated?"

"Not anymore. That's why I had to visit him," Melanie answered smugly. "He's still my lad, and I'm still his lass."

Mary giggled at Melanie's poor attempt at British English. "That's great. I thought you looked adorable together at the Oscars. Could I ... I mean, only if it's not bothering you..."

"You want to take a pic?"

"Yes, please!"

Melanie and David posed with Mary while her mother took a picture on Mary's smartphone.

Fearing the news to spread, David and Melanie hustled to pack their few belongings. Less than fifteen minutes later, they were on the road again. Their route took them over the Pyrenees and into Perpignan. In spite of the bright sunshine, the air was cool when the scooter climbed up the mountain passes, but soon they descended into the Midi, the French province north of the Garonne River. They had a belated lunch before they passed Toulouse, and it was almost seven when they reached the small town of Moissac, the location of the shoot.

Melanie directed David to where the main set had been built, close to an old abbey. The set was shut down, but they easily found the former brasserie that housed the production office. Jeanne Renault was still there with the director and her pale assistant. Melanie knew by now that the woman, Odile, was very effective and she behaved more natural here where she had tasks to perform.

"Salut, grandmére," she smiled. "David drove me back."

That was quite obvious, the way Melanie's hair was slicked to her skull, but Jeanne smiled.

"It is good to have you back, and it is good to see David. Have you reconciled with my stupid granddaughter?"

David nodded. "We're good again. Better than good."

Jeanne nodded. "Melanie, we haven't found a replacement for Dumont and we cannot take him back. He fell down the stairs in his hotel and broke his clavicle. Drunk."

Melanie shook her head. "What is wrong with the man?" She shrugged. "So what's your plan?"

"We'll shoot whatever scenes we can without him. The costs will be picked up by the insurance we had for Dumont. We'll also do rehearsals and light tests to save time later. I'm sorry. I planned for you to be finished in two weeks, but now we are running late."

"Not your fault," Melanie answered lightly. "Let me know when you'll need me. In the meantime, David and I plan to see something of the country."

"Chateau Renault?" Jeanne asked.

"Probably. We checked. It's only two hours from here."

"I have not been there for years. Would you mind if I also came along?" Jeanne asked.

Melanie looked at David first. He smiled and nodded. Jeanne saw the interplay and chuckled.

"That was good Melanie. Never forget to include your partner in important decisions. Now go and freshen up, you two. Tell Madame Bruscard that you need a bigger room. Will I see you at dinner?"

Melanie and David looked at each other and nodded.

"D'accord," David answered for them, making everybody wince with his bad pronunciation.

"Speak English, I beg you!" Jeanne implored him with faux drama in her voice.

Melanie laughed brightly. "It is better to be silent and look like a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt."

"Ha, ha!" David groused back in mock indignation. "I'll have you know that I speak two foreign languages, Spanish and Danish. Arrogant fransk!"

Without blinking an eye, Jeanne retorted. "Arrogant dig selv, unge mand!" Then she smiled triumphantly. "I worked with Lars van Trier in the early 1990s."

David was impressed. "Wow! Det er imponerende. Let's talk in English though. I wouldn't want Melanie to feel excluded."

Melanie grinned. "Asen!"

"Et tu?" David gave back with a sigh. "Okay, I'm outgunned and I give up. Let's go to that hotel before I make even more of an asen of myself."

The pension was only a stone's throw away, on the River Tarn. It was a charming 19th century building, rebuilt as a sign proclaimed after the catastrophic flood of 1930. Their new room, hurriedly readied for them, was nothing less than beautiful, with old furniture, an ancient CRT TV set, and a balcony overlooking the river.

Melanie was a little unsure of whether she and Jeanne had gone too far in teasing David, so she pushed him onto the bed and straddled him.

"I love you, David, and I hope you didn't mind the teasing."

"Asen hurt," he grinned up at her. "but you can make up for it."

"How so?" she asked, slowly grinding her crotch against his.

"Get me a job as an extra."

"What?"

"An extra. A guy in the background who empties a trash can. A guy sitting on the bench in the arena. A spectator who yells an obscenity. Something I can point to and claim to have been in a movie once."

"You're crazy! Extras get to stand around for hours and nobody can ever see them in the finished movie."

"I don't mind. I want to see a bit of this movie making. You were steeped in it from when you were six. It's part of your life. I want to understand it better."

Melanie bent down to kiss him softly. "I'll talk to Jeanne. Maybe you can play an obnoxious American tourist who speaks French with a horrible accent."

"They're gonna put me in the movies,

They're gonna make a big star out of me,

We'll make a film about a man that's dumb and dorky,

And all I gotta do is act naturally, " David sang.

"What's that?" Melanie asked.

"The Beatles. Act Naturally. Ringo Starr did the vocals. I replaced 'sad and lonely' with 'dumb and dorky'."

"I'm not big on old stuff," Melanie admitted.

"Ask Jeanne. She's probably got a collection of signed Beatles vinyl records."

"My father may have had them too. I mean, they may still be at his house for all I know. I really want to visit the place, David."

"We will. Now, where were we?"

"I thought you were going to make love to me?"

"Right. I almost forgot," he deadpanned and got slugged.

"Asen!"

Thankfully, the menu in the restaurant came with English translations. Making Melanie squawk in outrage, David ordered a beef burger with fries. It was a revelation. The bread around it was baked on-site and crispy, lettuce, tomato and peppers were absolutely fresh, and the fries were hand-cut, fat and fried to a golden brown. It was hands down the best burger of his life, and he was not shy to announce it.

Jeanne laughed heartily and when the maitre showed next, she conveyed David's appreciation. The maitre took is in good grace and smiled. Melanie had a bad case of second-hand embarrassment but Jeanne patted David's hand.

"You, my dear David, are a breath of fresh air. You say what you think and feel. By the way, I know how you feel. I had the burger last week and it is delicious."

David shrugged. "I can tell that it's made from freshly ground rump and I'll bet you that this bullock was raised on a grass range. Pesky Joe at the Clearwater Diner has the same quality beef, but his salad and tomatoes are greenhouse stuff. And don't get me started on these fries!"

"Perhaps you should start a web blog about junk food?"

"Says a girl who can't fry eggs to save her life," David laughed and Melanie blushed. "Mel, a Hamburger isn't junk food. It's just that burger chains aim for cost cutting, not taste."

"Fine, clog your arteries and see if I care," Mel shot back. "Why don't you at least try some of these mussels?"

David shook his head. "Once you get Marine Biology next spring you'll understand. Mussels filter all the crap from the water. It's like eating a used pool filter."

Jeanne laughed so hard she had to spit her food into her napkin.

"Oh, dear! This is great! May I use that line for the script? This is so ... American?"

"Just life science," David gave back. "I'm sure that educated French won't eat that crap either."

"Jeanne, he's goading you," Melanie said shaking her head.

Jeanne wagged her finger at David. "How do you say? Payback is a witch?"

Melanie snorted. "Bitch, Jeanne. Bitch."

David got his wish to be an extra on the set, participating in make-belief plays from which the director would later pick a few seconds as fillers between real acting scenes. However, he got more time on the set than other extras. He even had a speaking scene, a shouting match with a referee ending in his expulsion. He was to shout in English, the actor playing the referee shouted back in French, and David assumed there would be some dubbing later.

Meanwhile, Melanie had two more scenes with supporting cast members and David watched avidly as his girl owned the scenes. It amazed him to see how the sometimes insecure Melanie pulled off a dominant presence. He knew that she suffered from stage fright, but in those scenes she was as cool as a cucumber, at least outwardly.

They were sitting at a table in the sun munching on some sandwiches from the catering company and generally enjoying their lunch break when Jeanne plopped down on a lawn chair between them.

"We may have found a replacement for Dumont," she announced. "It's not a done deal yet, but it looks good. David, may I trouble you with some extra work on the set?"

David shrugged and grinned. "Sure. It's been great fun so far."

"You and our prospect are about the same size and hair color, even teint. Do you think you could stand in for some light tests with Melanie? That may save time and money later. Melanie can even rehearse her lines with you."

"As long as I don't have to answer her," David grinned. "People here might just lynch me if I try to speak French."

Melanie giggled and patted his knee. "You can always speak Danish."

Jeanne chuckled along and dropped some fifteen printed pages in David's lap.

"Sorry, just do your best. We simplified your lines, but Melanie can't just speak a monologue."

Melanie raised her eyebrows. "I've never heard of such a lighting test."