Chapter 21

We woke early the following morning, and after having a quick shower, and getting dressed, we packed our backpacks and went down for breakfast. After checking out it was a short walk to the riverside where we boarded the first of two boats. This one would take us up the Rhine Gorge, past the Lorelei rock and to Koblenz, where the Mosel meets the Rhine, at the famous Deutsche Ecke <<German Corner>>. The boat had a running commentary, in German and English on the many attractive features of the river valley. I amused myself by listening to the German Note-perfect, translating it for Cal, then listening to the English commentary and laughing at the mistranslations.

The best part was passing the Loreley, a big rock on the eastern bank, with a folk tale attached to it. Heinrich Heine had written a poem about it, and someone else, I never caught who, had set it to music, and they played a recording as we sailed up the river. Each of us had the words on the brochure for the journey, and I was surprised when, on the second playing of it, Cal joined in and sang it. Note-perfect of course.

When she finished, all the people around us applauded and she blushed, very prettily. When I looked up, a middle-aged man was stood in front of us.

“Young lady,” he said, in almost unaccented English, “has anyone ever told you that you have a beautiful, even unique, voice?” he asked.

“Thank you,” she said, blushing slightly, “my name is Cal Warner.”

She stuck her hand out and he shook it.

“Tobias Richter,” he introduced himself.

“Are you in the music business, Herr Richter?” I asked.

“David,” Cal interrupted, “Professor Richter is the Generalindent of the Deutsche Oper am Rhein.”

“Is that, like, a boss?” I asked, unaware of how opera companies worked.

“Like that,” Richter replied, “but, more of an artistic director.”

He turned to Cal.

“Young lady, if you ever decide to take up singing opera, I’d love to see you appear with my company,” he said.

“I intend to,” she replied, “I’ve been at the Munich Summer school this past few weeks. Jonas Kaufmann has been my mentor.”

“Then you couldn’t have been in better hands,” he said, “I only wish I could persuade him to work with us.”

“He seems to be pretty well booked up already,” she said.

“The best always are,” he said, “and with a voice like yours, I predict that you will be one of the best.”

“Thank you,” she said, “that’s very kind of you.”

“Not kind, my dear,” he replied, “merely truthful. I look forward to hearing you singing on stage one day. Now I must return to my companions, but I wish you every success.”

He turned to me.

“And you too, young man, I very much enjoyed your film.”

I was amazed that he’d recognised me.

“Thank you,” I managed to stammer, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

He left and we sat back in our seats.

For the next hour, we got a few people coming over and asking if I was Greg Paradise, and I gave them my usual answer, about being just the actor who plays him, and we had a few pictures taken with fans, and gave out autographs.

It was lunchtime when we landed at Koblenz, and after eating schnitzel at a small riverside restaurant, we caught the boat up to Cologne.

The walk from Cologne riverside to the station is up a steep hill, so we took a taxi as far as the huge Gothic Cathedral, which stands next to the Hauptbahnhof, and boarded the train to Paris. A little over five hours later, and after changing trains in Paris, we stepped out onto the platform at Waterloo, and after a thirty-minute underground journey across London to King’s Cross, boarded the train for Yorkshire.

Cal’s Mum met us off the train, which was running late and deposited us at Wakefield Westgate station just before midnight. I loaded the bags into the boot while Cal climbed into the front passenger seat alongside her mother and kissed her on the cheek.

“Have a good time you two?” Aunt Mary asked.

“Yes,” Cal replied, “and I learned a lot about breath control.”

“How about you David?”

“It was busy,” I said, “and I missed Cal.”

I stared out of the window at the passing buildings of Wakefield, I was tired.

“Wake up sleepyhead, we’re home,” I heard Cal’s voice as she shook me gently.

I groaned and opened my eyes.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Five to one,” Aunt Mary replied, “time for bed.”

“Yes, bed,” I replied, “I’d better get home, Mum and Dad will be waiting up for me.”

“No, they’ve gone to bed, you’re staying with us tonight,” she answered.

“All right,” I agreed, trying to sound unenthusiastic, after all, what sixteen-year-old, faced with a choice between spending the night alone in his own bed or snuggled up with a beautiful naked girl, would choose the girl?

“Leave the bags,” Aunt Mary said as I got out of the car, “we’ll get them in the morning.”

We all got out of the car and trooped into the house. I locked the front door behind us, and Aunt Mary asked if we wanted hot chocolate or anything before bed.

We both refused and headed off up the stairs, hand in hand.

Cal disappeared into the bathroom, and reappeared a few minutes later, wearing just a pair of cotton little girl knickers and a wry smile.

“Sorry,” she said, “a day early.”

“Well,” I replied, “that’s less worrying than a week late.”

I went to the bathroom and did my own pre-bed routine, then back to the bedroom. Cal was already in bed and opened up the duvet for me to climb in beside her.

She snuggled in beside me and gave me a kiss on the cheek, I rolled and gathered her into my arms.

“Sorry, love,” she said, “did you want to?”

“Of course I wanted to,” I replied, “but it’s not just about that, you know. What are you going to do when we’re living together? Go home to your Mum for five days every month?”

I got a full-on kiss for that.

“You’re so sweet,” she said, giving me another kiss on the cheek this time, “I wish I wasn’t so tired, and on my period. I’d be keeping you awake all night.”

“I wish I wasn’t so tired,” I replied, “I’d be letting you.”

We fell asleep almost immediately, snuggled together in a tangle of limbs.

I awoke the following morning from a very pleasant dream, one that involved me, Cal, and a very pleasant blowjob.

Except that the dream continued after I awoke.

I looked down to see a red-haired head bobbing up and down on my manhood.

“You know,” I managed to gasp, “that’s a very good way to get an early breakfast.”

The bobbing stopped for a second as she said, “Good, I’m feeling a little peckish, and I’m told it’s a very good source of protein.”

She returned to her task.

It was only a couple of seconds before I felt a familiar tightening.

“Cal, I’m about to...” was as far as I got before she started swallowing as the first spurt hit the back of her throat.

She swallowed, and continued swallowing, as a further six spurts hit the same spot.

When her head came up, she had a little dribble out of the corner of her mouth.

“You missed a drop,” I said, pointing out the spot.

Her finger wiped it off and she licked it clean.

I drew her to me and kissed her, deep. It wasn’t my favourite flavour, but if she could take it so could I.

“Breakfast in fifteen,” her mother’s voice announced from downstairs.

“Time to get moving,” I said, “do you want to go first?”

She did, of course, so by the time she had finished I had to rush to get downstairs in time.

Her mother had gone for the full English, suggesting that perhaps we were sick of weedy little continental breakfasts of cheese, ham and bread.

“That wasn’t always what I had Mum,” Cal explained, “sometimes I had a gekochte Ei as well.”

“What’s a gekockt eye?” her mother asked.

“Gekochte ei, Mum,” she explained, smiling, “a hard-boiled egg.”

“Well you got fried ones today,” Aunt Mary replied.

We tucked in with gusto. I’d had some pretty hefty breakfasts in hotel restaurants in the USA, but nothing to match the home-cooked variety.

Once we’d finished, and Cal had volunteered me to load the dishwasher, we sat sipping coffee.

“What are you two planning for today?” Aunt Mary asked.

“I don’t know about Cal, but I’m planning on doing nothing, just chilling out and relaxing,” I said, “although I suppose I should show my face next door, just in case my parents think I’ve emigrated or something.”

“Well then,” she replied, “why don’t you bring the bags in from the car, then take yours next door. I’m not sure what, if anything, your parents have planned.”

I brought Cal’s stuff in first, then retrieved my bags from the car boot and left them by the front door while I said my goodbyes. Even though I was only going next door.

I walked into my own home, put my bags down in the hall, and went through to the living room, where everybody was sat around. What surprised me was when Jean Canham was sat there with Andy. She had lasted longer than I thought. Maybe the girl of the week club had finally been disbanded. What surprised me, even more, was the presence of a stranger.

After hugs from my parents and sister, I shook hands with Andy, got a hug from Jean, and then looked at the new guy.

“David,” my sister said, “this is Geoff. Geoff, this is my brother David.”

I shook hands with him.

He just looked at me open-mouthed, I had learned to recognise the look.

“Geoff,” I said, “I’m just David, Alison’s brother. Stick around long enough and you might even see me washing up.”

“Fat chance,” Alison said, “you’ll just run off to Hollywood again when it’s your turn.”

“I didn’t know you were allowed boyfriends yet, Pip,” I said.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said, “he’s just a friend who happens to be a boy.”

“Where have I heard that before,” Andy said, just loud enough to be heard.

“You haven’t,” I replied, louder, “what you heard was ‘She’s not my girlfriend, we’re just friends.’”

Geoff looked puzzled.

“David and his girlfriend Cal,” Alison explained, “until two years ago they were just friends. You’ll meet her soon.”

“When?” he asked.

“Let’s see, he’s been back in the house nearly ten minutes, so, any time now,” she replied.

As if on cue, we heard the back door open, then close, then Cal’s voice announcing, “Anybody home?”