Little Pleasures

Saint Malo. Early morning, at the station.

The TGV train for Paris departs in seven minutes.

Sartre watches as Sweezus dismantles his bike.

Seven minutes, says Sartre. Get a move on.

Done, says Sweezus, zipping the bike bag.

Gaius pats his pockets.

What has he forgotten?

Belle, says Gaius. Did you pack my blue pencil?

It'll be in your back pack, says Belle. And I've got the sharpener. It was on the table next to the Scarabée's legs.

Come on! says Sartre. We're in a first class carriage. Way up the platform.

They start walking, along the platform.

Terence and Baldy are lagging behind, with Saint Roley.

Let's get on NOW, says Terence.

Yes, let's, says Baldy. Then we don't have to walk as far.

No, says Saint Roley. You'll be in the wrong carriage. And you won't have a seat allocation.

Boo hoo, says Terence. Bossy. You're not our Virgin.

Baldy bursts out crying, inexplicably.

Seven minutes later, the TGV pulls out of Saint Malo, with everyone in it.

First class carriage seating is in a 2-1 figuration. Two seats on one side of the aisle, one on the other.

Sartre sits beside Sweezus, with Arthur across the aisle from them.

Belle sits beside Terence and Baldy, who fit into one seat. Gaius is across the aisle from them.

Saint Roley is undecided as to who he will sit on.

He would prefer Belle, as the softest. But she is comforting Baldy, who has an issue.

Belle: We'll sort it out when we get to Paris.

Baldy: (sniff)

Terence: He needs a snack.

Belle: Jean Paul, is there a snack service?

Sartre: Two carriages up. If anyone's going....

Belle: Terence and Baldy are going.

Sartre: Here's 10 euro. Get me one of the Petits Plaisirs on the menu.

Belle: Okay.

Arthur: I'll take them.

Belle: Thanks, Arthur. You're a darling.

Arthur, Terence and Baldy head for the Petits Plaisirs.

Saint Roley flutters onto Belle's lap.

Belle: Big adventure starting!

Saint Roley: Yes. It's scary. I've never been out of Brittany.

Belle: Everywhere's the same in the end.

Saint Roley: Is it? Even the bottom of the ocean?

Belle: I suppose so, but I didn't really mean that.

Sweezus (looking over the back of his seat): Hey Belle?

Belle: What?

Sweezus: Wanna read this, before I show it to his lordship?

Sartre: Ha ha. I think he means me. Don't tell me it's actually finished?

Belle: Thanks, Sweezie, Saint Roley and I will read it together. It'll take our minds off the nature of endings.

Sweezus passes his notebook over the seat and Belle starts reading:

Cycling Through France With Sartre (One of us Being a Fuckwit).