Chapter 4

The next week saw me descend into a gloom so dark that I was barely able to record anything worthwhile. Every night I'd return to the Bottleneck club hoping beyond hope that I would happen upon her but I never did. I trawled the length and breadth of Paris trying to find out where 'The Dreamers' was being filmed but to no avail. Putting it plainly, I gave up all hope of ever seeing her again.

Then one day two weeks later, quite by chance, we found each other again.

It was a glorious afternoon towards the end of May when I took my guitar and wandered up to Montmartre. I'd put the finishing touches on the album and was now just waiting it to be mixed. I'd just returned to Paris from a brief trip to Sheffield to get my car and some personal stuff because I had been booked to play a tour around France with a couple of other acts. We were due to go on the road for most of June and even part of July. After that a tour of England... and well you get the picture. I found a spot where I could play and soak up the sun at the same time. Setting up I began to play while all around me tourists basked in the warm Spring sunshine.

I didn't even notice that she was standing in front of me because I had my eyes closed and was totally immersed in singing. It was only when I'd finished the song and looked up that I saw her. My heart leapt as I recognised her immediately even though she was wearing sunglasses. She cocked her head slightly and smiled;

'So here you are... is this your new job now?'

'Yeah... what do you think?'

'I think that it looks really uncomfortable? How do you sit there?'

'With great discomfort... believe me.'

She took off her glasses and stepped forward;

'Well if it so uncomfortable maybe you'd like to find somewhere else to sit and maybe have a drink?'

'Are you asking me out?'

With a mock frown on her face she placed her hands on her hips;

'It is just for a cup of coffee... don't get the idea that I want to marry you.'

Grinning, like an idiot, I'm sure, I picked myself off the pavement and went over to her. We kissed each others cheeks and having packed away my gear we headed off to a little café nearby.

It was rustic in appearance with tables outside that were somewhat shaded from the blaze of the sun. Having ordered coffee Eva and myself spent the next three hours locked in conversation. I managed to find out her surname, Green. Not very French but her father was Swedish so...

She had finished filming 'The Dreamers' and was now getting ready to shoot another film, a French one this time, called 'Arsene Lupin'. When I enquired about Michael she told me that he'd returned to the States a couple of days after the incident at Bottleneck, his scenes having been finished. I was disappointed as, apart from when he was drunk, he'd seemed like a good bloke. Louis had returned home for a few weeks and would be making another film soon. She didn't know what it was. Lighting a cigarette she leant forward a little on the table:

'What have you been doing Alan? How is the album?'

Sparking up myself I brushed the hair out of my eyes, I needed a haircut badly, and sighed;

'Well the album is done and should be mixed in a week. Then I have a tour of France and Belgium starting in June. Back to England for a while touring and after that... well I don't know. It's still up in the air. It's the life of a lonesome hobo... '

Putting on my best, or should that be worst, Bob Dylan impression I started to croak out 'I am a Lonesome Hobo'

She giggled a little at this and slapped my arm;

'Stop it! You are as bad as Michael!'

Leaning forward I asked;

'I'm so sorry... can you ever forgive me?'

'Why should I?'

'Because if you do... I'll buy you dinner.'

She looked at me for a couple of seconds then leant forward, and much to my surprise, kissed me softly on the lips. It couldn't have lasted longer than ten seconds but it seemed to happen in slow motion. I must have had a very strange look on my face because she started to giggle. Eventually I managed to say something;

'I guess that means I'm forgiven.'

She brushed the hair out of my eyes and grinned;

'You are very quick.'

The next few days were a blur to me. We saw each other almost every day and became close. We had so much in common, film, music, literature that we always had something to talk about. As we got to know each other better and the more comfortable I became with the relationship I opened up more, telling her about my father's death and my strained relationship with my older brother Dan. As I explained to Eva one day when we were walking along the River Seine;

'Dan just feels that I should work, what he would call, a steady practical job. I guess he resents that I've gotten the chance to do something that I really love to do whereas he's stuck in a factory. Things have gotten progressively worse since my Father died. Dan thinks that I should move back to Sheffield and help look after Mum... even though she'd never hear of it... she knows what music means to me... I mean I did offer to head back home and teach music but she... '

I sighed and lit a cigarette. Eva put her hand on my shoulder;

'It is ok. You will make things up with your brother. He may be angry now but that will change. Give it time.'

'I hope you're right because I do love him... '

She grazed my cheek with the back of her hand;

'It will be ok.'

We hugged each other swaying in the warm Parisian sunshine. I think it was then that I knew I really did love her.

So as I said things were going incredibly well. The only cloud on the horizon was the impending tour I was booked on. It would mean that seeing Eva would become more and more difficult, something that didn't fill me with joy. To see the least. I tired to bury this thought and enjoy the time I had with Eva. I could tell that she was doing the same.

The night before I headed out on the tour we went to dinner and afterwards to a café for a drink. Up to that point we had both tried to avoid bringing up the issue trying to keep up the, admittedly, forced gaiety between us. The mood became even more sombre as we walked back, hand in hand, to her apartment in the Latin Quarter. There was silence between us. I was feeling miserable and could tell Eva felt the same. Putting an arm around her shoulder I drew her closer to me. She slipped an arm around me and placed her head on my shoulder. When we reached the doorstep of her apartment she slipped her hands around my waist and drew herself in closer to my body, her head resting on my shoulder. The feeling of her warmth so close to me was enough to coax my penis out of its flaccid state, much to my embarrassment. It didn't seem to bother Eva though and she drew herself even closer to me. I placed my fingers underneath her chin and kissed her, our lips locked together for what seemed like an eternity. As out tongues swirled in unison, dancing around each other I gently caressed her cheek with the tips of my fingers. I felt her hand slip inside my jacket and stroke my midriff through my jumper. When we broke off the kiss we held each other, enjoying the warmth of the still Paris night and the warmth of each other. It was Eva who broke the silence;

'Do you want to come inside?'

I looked at her;

'Are you sure? What about Joy?'

'Joy has gone away with some friends to Nice. So we will be alone.'

With that I planted a kiss on her lips.

'Are you sure you want to?'

She answered this question by kissing me.

The apartment was a medium sized one situated on the fourth floor of the complex. When we entered I saw it possessed a kitchen cum sitting-room and two bed-rooms. The Parisian equivalent of a student flat. But much cleaner then any Student flat I had been in. It had a good view of the Latin Quarter and while Eva went to the bathroom I took off my jacket and peered out the window for several minutes watching the anonymous people below saunter through the streets. I hadn't noticed that Eva had returned and my gaze was drawn away from the window only when I felt her hand on my shoulder. She wrapped her arms gently around my neck and we kissed passionately. My hands gripped her waist and drew her closer to me, my penis once again springing to life at the feel of her shapely form pressed so firmly against me. I slipped one hand onto her ass and stroked it. We stayed like this for several minutes until Eva broke off the kiss and taking hold of my hand and led me towards what I presumed was her bedroom.

It was a decent sized room with a large double bed. The walls were covered in blue paint and the floor was a wood of some type. There were plenty of books in the room and a CD rack and stereo in the corner. Eva gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and whispered

'I will be back in a minute'

When she'd left the room I strolled over to the CD collection and had a look. There was some good stuff there. Blues, Jazz, Folk... some Radiohead, Ani DiFranco... not bad. I took a look at some of the books. Again there was a bit of everything there from romance to philosophy. Quite a few English language novels. As I perused them I heard the door close and then Eva's voice.

'Do you approve?'

I turned around and saw she was leaning against the door. I looked her up and down nodding;

'Oh... I approve alright.'

She laughed softly;

'You are very silly!'

Leaning down to kiss her I mumbled;

'But isn't that why you like me?'

It wasn't long before we found ourselves on the bed kissing and cuddling. My hands wandered from her face down to her breasts and I began to caress them gently through her top. At the same time she slipped a hand underneath my shirt and began to stroke my flesh slowly. We were kissing with more fervour now and I began to fumble with the buttons of her cardigan. She removed my hands from them and planted a kiss on my lips. She winked at me and sliding off the bed, to a groan of protest from yours truly, she turned on the side lamp before switching off the main bedroom light.