French Lessons Read Online Free Page A

father’s scolding of the evening
before. The bay looked so beautiful and the motor–yacht was proving to be
such great fun. There was even a swim platform with a long dive ladder. Eleanor
looked forward to trying out her new French bikini. She was polite when her
father asked her what she intended to do with the rest of her day.
    “You
are not to go far, Eleanor. And remember. Tamara would like to spend some time
with you, please.”
    “Yes
Daddy, I know. But maybe we could leave that until the weekend? I rather
thought I’d study a map, and work things out for myself. Could I please go for
a walk up to Monte Carlo and see the whole bay?”
    His
daughter’s innocent enthusiasm disarmed Walker. It was a fine day, and Monte
Carlo wasn’t so far away. Perhaps they could all meet later for supper.
    “OK
then, dear. But I really don’t want you going any further than the hotel. The
Grand – look, you can see the sign from here.”
    Eleanor
shaded her eyes with her hand. She glanced up the hill and found her immediate
bearings. Yes, she remembered Daddy had done a major deal in that hotel last
summer. He was well–known there. They’d look after her nicely, she
thought. Eleanor planned to order a cocktail and sit in the bar by herself. How
tremendous! And there were well–known actors and musicians everywhere.
She was bound to find company far more exciting than Daddy and his trophy wife.
    Walking
slowly up to The Grand Hotel, her pink kitten heels clacking on the boiling hot
pavement, Eleanor breathed in the crisp sea air and forgot all about her father
and stepmother. Just then, she spotted a group of young men in dark suits. They
were standing around a bright red sports car, smoking. There were three of
them, all very expensively attired. One in particular caught Eleanor’s eye –
the tallest. He grinned across at her, a quick glance up and down giving her
the seal of approval. Eleanor smiled sweetly back.
    “Bonjour,”
said the handsome dark–haired young man, as all three of them wandered
over to greet her.
    “Bonjour,
Monsieur!”
    Charlie
Hetherington was intrigued. So, he thought, the sprightly young blonde of the
motor–yacht had made her way to him sooner than he had ever hoped. She
looked a handful of years younger than him, and Charlie could tell at once that
she was indeed English. This could be real fun.
    “Vous
allez bien? Est–ce que je peut vous offrir un verre, peut–être?”
    Charlie
waved his arms towards the entrance of the Hotel while his two friends stood by
grinning. They too were greatly taken by the young lady, with her shapely legs
bare under the stiff linen summer frock, and her blonde curls waving in the heavy
breeze. Eleanor was caught short however. She hadn’t understood the colloquial
use of rapid French and didn’t quite know how best to respond.
    “Er,
oui monsieur, mais je – si je – .”
    Charlie
gave a light friendly laugh. This wasn’t fair of him, he thought.
    “Don’t
worry. My own French needs brushing up as well I have to say. We’re all from
London. These are my friends Freddie, and Jake. I’m Charles Hetherington.
Everyone calls me Charlie,” he held out his hand. Relieved, Eleanor took it.
She looked at him properly for the first time. He was slim, and stood way over
a foot taller than her. His pitch–black hair was cut short and stylish,
and he had quite the most dazzling smile. She was well travelled enough too, to
know that his well–spoken tones revealed a solid, comfortable upbringing.
Old money, as Daddy would say.
    “I’m
here for the summer,” Hetherington continued. Eleanor thought he was quite the
most handsome man she had ever seen. His perfect teeth gleamed and his eyes
shone when his face creased in friendly greeting.
    “Eleanor
Walker,” she said trying to be formal, tentatively shaking his long, strong
hand.
    “Pleased
to meet you Miss Walker. Are you holidaying?”
    “Yes,”
she beamed. “That’s our motor–yacht down in