Chapter 17: Season 6 - Delayed but Not Denied

Season six started late. It was the end of May before the Chevalier and I left Port Vendres for our first rendezvous, or rather my first rendezvous, with a single mature female in Deauville. April-December pairs had dwindled to just one for the entire season. The Chevalier and I did not have to meet our April-December ‘dates’ in Saint-Malo until the middle of July.

The reason for this unusual delay to the start of the season was due to the Chevalier falling ill over Christmas. The Chevalier always spent Christmas Day at Le Boulou. Usually I would drive him to Chez Planchette the day before Christmas Eve, and a day or two after Christmas Day would then take him to Perpignan airport where the Chevalier would fly on to Morocco. However, I had been ‘promoted’ to Temporary Deputy Night Manager of the Vermilion Coast Hotel and placed on duty over the Christmas Week, which meant I would not be home over Christmas and had to get the Chevalier to Chez Planchette, and myself back to Port Vendres before my shift started on December 21st. Philippe Soissons, the Chevalier’s bridge partner at the various tournaments in the area, offered to drive the Chevalier to Le Boulou and also collect him after Christmas and take him to Perpignan airport. I thanked him for his kind offer, but as I had presents to deliver in Le Boulou I said I would drive the Chevalier to Chez Planchette and after Christmas Day my father would arrange transport to get the Chevalier to Perpignan airport in time for his flight.

I hadn’t seen the Chevalier for a week or more as he and Philippe had been away from the hotel attending bridge tournaments, and when I picked him and his luggage up at hotel reception I noted he looked tired and had a persistent cough. He blamed both conditions on overlong sessions in unheated halls in Narbonne where the latest bridge tournament had taken place. I dropped him, and presents for my family, off at Chez Planchette, wished all a ‘Very Merry Christmas’ and then drove back to Port Vendres.

I spent a busy but unexpectedly pleasurable Christmas, Margot, the Keep Fit Suite manageress, being the main reason for both. She gave me an extremely energetic if exhausting Christmas present that I reciprocated, probably not so energetically but hopefully just as pleasurable. Margot and I exchanged more presents – the bodily fluid type – several times during my stint as Temporary Deputy Night Manager, but don’t imagine she and I were an item. Margot was just as free giving similar gifts to the Head Chef and the Maître D’ -- she knew how to keep on the right side of Management. It was during a late evening session of gift exchanging with her that my portable phone rang. I saw from the number it was from home and answered the call at once, although Margot wanted me to continue with what I was doing with my tongue.

“What’s wrong, Maman?” I said, sitting up and pulling Margot’s head from off my groin.

“The Chevalier has been taken ill. The doctor says it is pneumonia and has prescribed antibiotics and several weeks’ bed rest. The Chevalier is fretting at not being able to travel to Morocco. He says you have Leilah’s e-mail address and asks that you let her know what is happening.”

“I’ll do that directly, and I’ll be home in two days’ time when my shift ends.”

Margot insisted I finished eating my supper so it was about an hour or two later before I got from my bed and sent an e-mail to Leilah informing her of the Chevalier’s condition and delayed travel plans.

When I arrived home two days later I was shocked by the Chevalier’s appearance. He was asleep in the spare bedroom and looked old, frail, and vulnerable. I knew he was old but he always had such a vigorous and lively manner about him he always appeared to be a man still in his prime.

“The pneumonia has really brought him down,” my mother said softly as we gazed upon him. “The doctor said he came near to death, and only his strong constitution saved him. He needs complete bed rest to rebuild his strength.”

Later that day, when the Chevalier awoke and ate some broth made by my mother he appeared more like his old self, but he soon tired. Over the next two days I spent most of the time by his bed side; he would often drop off to sleep while I was talking to him, which indicates not only my boring tone of voice but also his weakness. Over time, nursed by my mother, the Chevalier gradually recovered his strength and by the end of January he announced he was well enough to travel to Morocco. My mother was horrified. “You have hardly left your bed in over a month...”

“I walked to the end of your garden and back yesterday,” the Chevalier said.

“Yes, but only because you were helped by Jacques.”

“I can manage well enough with my cane, and will set myself a target to walk each day. By the end of this week I will be strong enough to travel to Morocco.”

My mother sighed. “Only if you allow Rafael to accompany you,” she said, and cocked an interrogative eyebrow at me. I had some days of annual leave owing me and agreed to my mother’s request – well, it was more a directive than a request. The Chevalier knew my mother well enough not to argue and nodded his agreement.

There was no direct flight to Agadir from Perpignan and I didn’t think the seven hour road journey from Tangier to Agadir would be beneficial to the Chevalier’s health. Fortunately, there is a direct flight from Marseilles to Agadir, and daily flights from Perpignan to Marseilles. Six hours after leaving Perpignan, which included an hour wait in Marseilles, we arrived in Agadir. We were met at Agadir airport by Leilah’s husband Hassan who drove us to Hotel Mon Repos. The Chevalier was welcomed by an initially worried, but then relieved, Leilah, and shown to his room. He was in bed by the time I had brought in his luggage. He looked tired but was in a much better state of health than a week before.

I spent two days in Agadir before returning to Perpignan via Marseilles, and in those two days I learned some interesting facts about the Chevalier, Leilah and Hotel Mon Repos. On my first visit to Mon Repos, three years previously, I had noted the numbers of females about the place, especially the young girls who I surmised were one reason the Chevalier spent three months of the year in the hotel. This time I saw there were at least six young girls in the age range of 14-16, four older females in the 20-30 year age group, and two mature women, Leilah and her equally appealing and attractive sister Dihya. I learned later Dihya was a widow and the four older girls were her daughters. Leilah and Dihya owed their lives to the Chevalier, or ‘M’sieu Maurice’ as both women referred to him. It was as Doctor Amélie Puissant had told me. The Chevalier, then a member of the French Foreign Legion unit sent to Agadir to aid in rescue work after the devastating earthquake of 1960, rescued Leilah and Dihya, who were trapped in the wreckage of what had been a jerry built four story tenement block. Leilah’s cries for help were heard, but it was considered too dangerous for anyone to crawl into the rubble and rescue them before some overhanging blocks of masonry had been removed. The rescuers were waiting for heavy lifting equipment to arrive but there were still aftershocks, and one caused a fall of more of the building. The Chevalier took it upon himself to rescue the two girls, and crawled through the narrow aperture and brought out the girls one by one; Leilah insisted her sister be taken out before her. Not long after their escape another aftershock brought the whole edifice crashing to the ground. Had the girls still been in the building they would have died. As it was Leilah and Dihya were the only survivors of their family; mother, father, three brothers, two aunts, two uncles, and grandmother had all perished.

Not surprisingly both Leilah and Dihya adored the Chevalier. Leilah was about ten years old when she was rescued, Dihya two years younger. The Chevalier arranged for the sisters to be fostered and left money for their education. Whenever able he would visit them, and when the Chevalier visited Agadir four years after the earthquake Leilah demonstrated her gratitude for what he had done by giving him her virginity, the only thing she possessed. The Chevalier continued his visits throughout his time in the Legion and Leilah continued giving herself to the Chevalier until she reached 16 when her sister took over the mantle of showing their appreciation until she also became 16. Aged 20, Leilah married Hassan, who was 15 years older than her. They opened a café/restaurant in Agadir; Hassan had been born in Paris of Moroccan parents and had worked as a chef in a top class hotel, the George V, before returning to his roots in Agadir.

When the Chevalier retired from the Foreign Legion he settled in Agadir and lent Leilah and Hassan the money to lease the Hotel Môn Repos, which at the time was not much more than a ‘rent a room for an hour’ sort of establishment. However, Leilah and Hassan turned the place into an elegant, ten bedroom hotel, with a kitchen that attracted gourmets, initially locals but eventually tourists visiting Morocco. Hassan could produce cordon bleu cuisine as well as traditional Berber meals. The Chevalier was a sleeping partner in the enterprise and in time became their landlord. It was he who suggested reintroducing females onto the hotel’s menu.

“I knew, from when he took my virginity, M’sieu Maurice preferred young girls to mature women,” Leilah said. “Many men share his preference and there were, and still are, plenty of girls of the required age group living on the streets. Here in Morocco many females are left alone when their fathers/ husbands/sons go off to France to find employment and then send money back home. Some die on the journey, others die in France, some take the opportunity for a new life. Whatever the reason many females are left destitute with no money coming from their breadwinners, leaving them with only one way to earn a living. I recruit a couple of these familyless girls each year and train them in all aspects of hotel work: kitchen maids, waitresses, chambermaids, and whatever. When they are ready, that is, old enough, they provide personal room service to the type of clientele the hotel caters for. The girls live on the premises and they are paid a living wage. Customers pay for them as ‘Room Service’ in the bill so there is no prostitution as such. We give the girls a basic education, training in hotel work and a bonus after a year’s service at the hotel. When they attain the age of seventeen or thereabouts they are no longer so appealing to our target clientele and are found employment in other hotels. Most of my girls find a husband and lead perfectly normal lives when they leave Mon Repos. Left on the street they would have been preyed on by sex slave traders and would have lived short, unhappy, and unpleasant lives. i wish I could take more girls but I have to keep what happens at the hotel under the official radar. Not that the local gendarmerie would touch me as they are well paid to keep their mouths and eyes closed, and you can probably guess how they take their payment!”

“What about the older girls, Dihya’s daughters? Did they start the same way as the other, younger, girls?”

Leilah shook her head. “Not exactly. They started by continuing to show my and Dihya’s gratitude to M’sieu Maurice for saving our lives.”

“You mean...?”

“Yes. Neither Dihya nor I had any qualms about letting M’sieu Maurice take their virginity when each girl reached fourteen. When they became too old for his tastes they provided room service for those of our customers who prefer older females. All Dihya’s daughters are highly trained in all aspects of hotel work, and instruct the young girls in their duties. We now cater for clients who desire all ages of females, including the more mature, the sort you service when with M’sieu Maurice.” She saw my look of surprise and laughed. “I know all about you, Rafael. M’sieu Maurice has told me what you get up to during a Season, besides talking about your family in France. He says he feels as much at home in le Boulou as he does here in Agadir, and for that I embrace you.”

She did more than embrace me; her arms wrapped around my neck and her soft lips landed on my surprised mouth. I was astounded; I knew it was forbidden that a Moslem woman kiss anyone other than her husband or children. The kiss was sweet and tender, and when Leilah drew back and looked at me there was a twinkle in her eye. “That was for being such a good friend to my adored M’sieu Maurice.”