Baby Pierre is about to board the train for La Rochelle.
La Princesse de Babylone is lying on the ticket counter, with a set of mysterious instructions tucked into her flyleaf.
She is restless. Where is Baby Pierre? Why hasn't he picked her up? She sits up. She looks through the glass windows at the station platform.
Is that Baby Pierre, climbing onto the train?
It is.
Le Princesse is not used to being abandoned. And Baby Pierre has abandoned her twice.
But a book can become fond of its owner, and La Princesse is fond of Baby Pierre. His French is amusingly bad. She determines to follow him now.
She can hardly use her magic carpet in a train station. Her phoenix would certainly object.
A man comes up to the ticket counter. La Princesse doesn't think twice. She drops into his bag.
Yuck, it is full of his lunch. A greasy baguette with the jambon hanging out.
La Princesse regrets it already.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
No Need to Buy Tickets
Margaret pointed at the book.
C'est a vous? asked the woman in the ticket office.
Non, said Margaret. Parlez-vous anglais?
Un peu, shrugged the woman.
It belongs to my friend, said Margaret. I don't suppose there's a little stone that came with it? Une bébé pierre?
Non, said the woman, looking blank. But please take the book.
Thank you said Margaret. I'll leave it with you. Here is a note for the owner when he turns up. We are going to La Rochelle. We want him to follow us there.
Bien sur, said the woman. Au revoir.
Gaius and Margaret caught the train to La Rochelle.
Five minutes later the bus from Quillan arrived at the station.
Baby Pierre got off. Did he go to the ticket counter? No
He went back to the apartment and knocked on the door.
Amanda opened the door. She had been cleaning.
Baby Pierre! she exclaimed. What are you doing here? Your friends have already left for La Rochelle.
Did they leave me a note? asked Baby Pierre.
No, said Amanda. They didn't.
Baby Pierre felt dejected. Gaius and Margaret had gone. How was he going to find them? This was just like La Princesse de Babylone, when the princess turned up just as her lover left town. This thought cheered him up. The princess had caught up with her lover eventually. And had several adventures on the way.
He went back to the station. Did he go to the ticket office? No.
Baby Pierre does not need to buy tickets.
C'est a vous? asked the woman in the ticket office.
Non, said Margaret. Parlez-vous anglais?
Un peu, shrugged the woman.
It belongs to my friend, said Margaret. I don't suppose there's a little stone that came with it? Une bébé pierre?
Non, said the woman, looking blank. But please take the book.
Thank you said Margaret. I'll leave it with you. Here is a note for the owner when he turns up. We are going to La Rochelle. We want him to follow us there.
Bien sur, said the woman. Au revoir.
Gaius and Margaret caught the train to La Rochelle.
Five minutes later the bus from Quillan arrived at the station.
Baby Pierre got off. Did he go to the ticket counter? No
He went back to the apartment and knocked on the door.
Amanda opened the door. She had been cleaning.
Baby Pierre! she exclaimed. What are you doing here? Your friends have already left for La Rochelle.
Did they leave me a note? asked Baby Pierre.
No, said Amanda. They didn't.
Baby Pierre felt dejected. Gaius and Margaret had gone. How was he going to find them? This was just like La Princesse de Babylone, when the princess turned up just as her lover left town. This thought cheered him up. The princess had caught up with her lover eventually. And had several adventures on the way.
He went back to the station. Did he go to the ticket office? No.
Baby Pierre does not need to buy tickets.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Revelation at the Station
It is the following morning. Gaius and Margaret are at the station, packed and ready to leave for La Rochelle. Baby Pierre has still not turned up.
Do you think he'll be alright? says Margaret. He does know where we're going, doesn't he?
Alright? says Gaius testily. He's a stone. And furthermore, he stowed away in your bag in the first place.
What's wrong with you this morning? says Margaret. I thought you liked Baby Pierre.
I like stones, says Gaius. As do you. But I can't abide lateness.
He'll have missed yesterday's bus, says Margaret. Perhaps we should wait for this morning's.
Then we'll miss our train, says Gaius. We'll leave him a note.
We should have left it on the door, says Margaret. We can't leave it at the station.
Yes we can, says Gaius. Use your head. The bus comes into the station.
Where can we leave it? says Margaret.
At the counter, says Gaius. Now what are our instructions for finding this place at La Rochelle?
Margaret pulls a piece of paper from her pocket.
These are Madame Bouillon's instructions, she says, and begins to read :
Walk to the old port of La Rochelle. Pass under the big clock. Here, make about one hundred and fifty metres. Follow the street under the arcades. Go to theatre of the pancake restaurant, a real estate agency on the corner, and near the barber Dessange. Residence moquetterie at 29 head of city streets. Press intercom to call Christine.
He won't be able to follow that! says Gaius. I certainly can't!
He's a clever little fellow, says Margaret. He will.
She goes up to the ticket counter.
Her eyes widen.
There on the counter is a sodden and mud-streaked copy of La Princesse de Babylone.
Do you think he'll be alright? says Margaret. He does know where we're going, doesn't he?
Alright? says Gaius testily. He's a stone. And furthermore, he stowed away in your bag in the first place.
What's wrong with you this morning? says Margaret. I thought you liked Baby Pierre.
I like stones, says Gaius. As do you. But I can't abide lateness.
He'll have missed yesterday's bus, says Margaret. Perhaps we should wait for this morning's.
Then we'll miss our train, says Gaius. We'll leave him a note.
We should have left it on the door, says Margaret. We can't leave it at the station.
Yes we can, says Gaius. Use your head. The bus comes into the station.
Where can we leave it? says Margaret.
At the counter, says Gaius. Now what are our instructions for finding this place at La Rochelle?
Margaret pulls a piece of paper from her pocket.
These are Madame Bouillon's instructions, she says, and begins to read :
Walk to the old port of La Rochelle. Pass under the big clock. Here, make about one hundred and fifty metres. Follow the street under the arcades. Go to theatre of the pancake restaurant, a real estate agency on the corner, and near the barber Dessange. Residence moquetterie at 29 head of city streets. Press intercom to call Christine.
He won't be able to follow that! says Gaius. I certainly can't!
He's a clever little fellow, says Margaret. He will.
She goes up to the ticket counter.
Her eyes widen.
There on the counter is a sodden and mud-streaked copy of La Princesse de Babylone.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Safe Warm and Dry Elsewhere.
A strong cold wind had sprung up. It was still raining.
You know, said Margaret, as they emerged from the deserted village onto the forest path, in spite of the rain and the wind and all the the discomfort, I've never felt so ALIVE!
Good, said Gaius, as his umbrella blew inside out.
Imagine, said Margaret, that we are Cathars, approaching the medieval cité, in weather like this.
I am imagining it, Margaret, said Gaius, through gritted teeth.
The path was slippery and uphill. He tripped on a rock.
Imagine, said Margaret. We turn a corner and there before us is the castle, warmth and safety at last.
Wonderful said Gaius, dropping further behind.
What's wrong with your umbrella? asked Margaret. Is it broken?
I told you it was broken before we set off, said Gaius. It's no use at all.
Have a crisp, said Margaret, coming back.
Thank you, said Gaius.
It's not very nice here, said Margaret.
No it isn't, said Gaius. Look at my shoes.
His green crocs were covered in clay.
At last they saw the castle in the distance. They struggled on in the wind and the rain.
I think we should leave Carcassonne in the morning, said Margaret.
Done, said Gaius. We'll leave in the morning for La Rochelle. It's sure to be nicer there.
I hope Baby Pierre is back safe from Quillan, said Margaret.
They both thought of Baby Pierre, riding home on the last bus from Quillan, safe and warm and dry.
You know, said Margaret, as they emerged from the deserted village onto the forest path, in spite of the rain and the wind and all the the discomfort, I've never felt so ALIVE!
Good, said Gaius, as his umbrella blew inside out.
Imagine, said Margaret, that we are Cathars, approaching the medieval cité, in weather like this.
I am imagining it, Margaret, said Gaius, through gritted teeth.
The path was slippery and uphill. He tripped on a rock.
Imagine, said Margaret. We turn a corner and there before us is the castle, warmth and safety at last.
Wonderful said Gaius, dropping further behind.
What's wrong with your umbrella? asked Margaret. Is it broken?
I told you it was broken before we set off, said Gaius. It's no use at all.
Have a crisp, said Margaret, coming back.
Thank you, said Gaius.
It's not very nice here, said Margaret.
No it isn't, said Gaius. Look at my shoes.
His green crocs were covered in clay.
At last they saw the castle in the distance. They struggled on in the wind and the rain.
I think we should leave Carcassonne in the morning, said Margaret.
Done, said Gaius. We'll leave in the morning for La Rochelle. It's sure to be nicer there.
I hope Baby Pierre is back safe from Quillan, said Margaret.
They both thought of Baby Pierre, riding home on the last bus from Quillan, safe and warm and dry.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
A Normal French Village
Gaius and Margaret had walked through the deserted village unscathed. They had come to a road. A normal French road. Down the road, to the right, they could see a French village. A normal French village.
Let's go there, said Margaret. There might be a cafe, where we can get a cup of coffee, and a bus we can catch back to Carcassonne.
Soon they arrived in the village. It was about half past three. The drizzle was now a steady rain. They headed towards an open square with several shops on one side, and a carpark in the middle of which was an information board with nothing on it. On the left was a taxi stand with no taxis. There was no one about. The shops were closed, except for a Tabac.
What use is a Tabac? said Margaret crossly. What we need is coffee, and a bus.
Calm down Margaret, said Gaius. I shall look for a bus stop.
He disappeared round a corner. And came back.
There may be a bus at five o'clock, he said.
But that's AGES, said Margaret.
Just then a small supermarket rolled up its windows behind them. They went in, and bought oranges, and crisps.
Est-ce qu'il y a un bus pour Carcassonne? said Margaret to the supermarket owner, as she was paying.
Non, said the man. Le bus a departé a quinze heures.
Three o'clock! said Margaret. Then we must walk all the way back in the rain.
Oui, said the man. Bonne journeé.
Lucky we have our umbrellas, said Margaret, as they set of for Carcassonne in the rain.
And our crisps, said Gaius.
They marched boldly back through the deserted village, munching crisps.
Let's go there, said Margaret. There might be a cafe, where we can get a cup of coffee, and a bus we can catch back to Carcassonne.
Soon they arrived in the village. It was about half past three. The drizzle was now a steady rain. They headed towards an open square with several shops on one side, and a carpark in the middle of which was an information board with nothing on it. On the left was a taxi stand with no taxis. There was no one about. The shops were closed, except for a Tabac.
What use is a Tabac? said Margaret crossly. What we need is coffee, and a bus.
Calm down Margaret, said Gaius. I shall look for a bus stop.
He disappeared round a corner. And came back.
There may be a bus at five o'clock, he said.
But that's AGES, said Margaret.
Just then a small supermarket rolled up its windows behind them. They went in, and bought oranges, and crisps.
Est-ce qu'il y a un bus pour Carcassonne? said Margaret to the supermarket owner, as she was paying.
Non, said the man. Le bus a departé a quinze heures.
Three o'clock! said Margaret. Then we must walk all the way back in the rain.
Oui, said the man. Bonne journeé.
Lucky we have our umbrellas, said Margaret, as they set of for Carcassonne in the rain.
And our crisps, said Gaius.
They marched boldly back through the deserted village, munching crisps.
Two Dreadful Circumstances
Baby Pierre waited at the bus stop in Quillan, under his book.
As La Princesse de Babylone became sodden, Baby Pierre fell asleep.
The four thirty bus ( the last one for the day) started up, and some people got on.
Oh look, said a man, there's a book on the ground. Someone's dropped it.
He bent down to pick up the book, before boarding the bus.
The bus pulled out of the bus station, and Baby Pierre woke up.
Where's my book? wondered Baby Pierre. Where's La Princesse de Babylone? Where's the bus?
Though he waited and waited, the bus never came.
....
Back in cold Carcassonne, Gaius and Margaret had gone for a walk even though it was drizzling.
After all, said Margaret. We are in Cathar country.
What's that got to do with it? said Gaius.
They had to be hardy in those days, said Margaret.
I have no need to model myself on the Cathars, said Gaius. Being a Roman myself.
Fiddle dee dee, said Margaret. Let's go. Have you got an umbrella?
Yes I have, said Gaius, but it seems to be broken.
They walked out through the graveyard behind the Cité, and followed a country road past vineyards and trees. They crossed a bridge. They saw no one except a few soldiers. The soldiers looked surprised to see them, and smirked as they said bonjour.
The path led through a forest and up to a deserted village. It was eerie and damp. All the windows were broken and rubbish was piled up inside. They heard several loud bangs.
Run, said Margaret.
Gaius started to run, then slowed down to a brisk Roman walk.
As La Princesse de Babylone became sodden, Baby Pierre fell asleep.
The four thirty bus ( the last one for the day) started up, and some people got on.
Oh look, said a man, there's a book on the ground. Someone's dropped it.
He bent down to pick up the book, before boarding the bus.
The bus pulled out of the bus station, and Baby Pierre woke up.
Where's my book? wondered Baby Pierre. Where's La Princesse de Babylone? Where's the bus?
Though he waited and waited, the bus never came.
....
Back in cold Carcassonne, Gaius and Margaret had gone for a walk even though it was drizzling.
After all, said Margaret. We are in Cathar country.
What's that got to do with it? said Gaius.
They had to be hardy in those days, said Margaret.
I have no need to model myself on the Cathars, said Gaius. Being a Roman myself.
Fiddle dee dee, said Margaret. Let's go. Have you got an umbrella?
Yes I have, said Gaius, but it seems to be broken.
They walked out through the graveyard behind the Cité, and followed a country road past vineyards and trees. They crossed a bridge. They saw no one except a few soldiers. The soldiers looked surprised to see them, and smirked as they said bonjour.
The path led through a forest and up to a deserted village. It was eerie and damp. All the windows were broken and rubbish was piled up inside. They heard several loud bangs.
Run, said Margaret.
Gaius started to run, then slowed down to a brisk Roman walk.
Friday, June 1, 2012
What To Do on a Wet Day in Quillan
How right they were.
Baby Pierre had not wanted to get off the bus in Quillan, for it was raining.
Can I stay on the bus? he asked the driver. It's raining.
Non, said the driver, in French. C'est fini.
Fini, said Baby Pierre to himself sadly.
He picked up his copy of La Princesse de Babylone, and got off the bus.
He crossed the road, dodging the puddles.
He looked into a cafe. Inside three men were watching football.
Baby Pierre wished that Lavender was with him. He imagined her there at his side. She would have her blue pink and yellow umbrella. She would have something to eat in a bag.
Come under my umbrella, Baby Pierre, she would have said. Don't get wet.
No, he would have replied. Let's walk to the end of the town.
They would have walked to the end of the town. All the shops would have been shut. All the artists' studios too. He knew this, because it was true.
There's nothing to see, Lavender would have said.
Yes there is, Baby Pierre would have replied. See the towering mountains covered in mist. We are in the foothills of the Pyrenees, halfway between Carcassonne and Perpignan. That is the Aude River rushing by. And there are stones.
Derrr, Lavender would have said. But it's RAINING. And nobody else is about. Come and sit on the step under this awning, and have a drink of milk, and some raisins and nuts.
We are stones, Baby Pierre would have answered. We don't need anything.
Yes we do, Lavender would have replied.
But Lavender was not there. And it was raining.
Baby Pierre sighed, and returned to the bus stop. He held the copy of La Princesse de Babylone over his head. It would get wet, but so what.
Baby Pierre had not wanted to get off the bus in Quillan, for it was raining.
Can I stay on the bus? he asked the driver. It's raining.
Non, said the driver, in French. C'est fini.
Fini, said Baby Pierre to himself sadly.
He picked up his copy of La Princesse de Babylone, and got off the bus.
He crossed the road, dodging the puddles.
He looked into a cafe. Inside three men were watching football.
Baby Pierre wished that Lavender was with him. He imagined her there at his side. She would have her blue pink and yellow umbrella. She would have something to eat in a bag.
Come under my umbrella, Baby Pierre, she would have said. Don't get wet.
No, he would have replied. Let's walk to the end of the town.
They would have walked to the end of the town. All the shops would have been shut. All the artists' studios too. He knew this, because it was true.
There's nothing to see, Lavender would have said.
Yes there is, Baby Pierre would have replied. See the towering mountains covered in mist. We are in the foothills of the Pyrenees, halfway between Carcassonne and Perpignan. That is the Aude River rushing by. And there are stones.
Derrr, Lavender would have said. But it's RAINING. And nobody else is about. Come and sit on the step under this awning, and have a drink of milk, and some raisins and nuts.
We are stones, Baby Pierre would have answered. We don't need anything.
Yes we do, Lavender would have replied.
But Lavender was not there. And it was raining.
Baby Pierre sighed, and returned to the bus stop. He held the copy of La Princesse de Babylone over his head. It would get wet, but so what.
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