Roots Before Branches

by Abigail Tyrrell

  “I could help you pay for it,” I said seriously, “it could be our home if that’s what you wanted. But, you don’t think this is us moving too fast?”

  “We are absolutely moving too fast,” he smiled at me and moved his legs to rest them on my lap and I placed my hands on his thigh. “But I know I have never felt like this before. I want to make sure I do everything that I can to preserve it.”

  “Preserve it?” I laughed, “you should take me to see this place.”

  “We can go see it tomorrow if you want. I can ask the owner in the morning. If you like it then…I guess we need to have a serious talk?”

  “What would you say if I take a year out?” I asked.

  “A year out of what?”

  “Studying. My apprenticeship. I could stay here and be with you.”

  “I don’t want you to give up anything for me Charlie.”

  “I wouldn’t be giving up, just putting it on the back burner for a while. I want to really explore what we have Ez. I can’t do that if I’m in London and you are here.”

  “You would do that for me?”

  “Yeah I would.” I smiled again. “I want to do that. If…you will have me.”

  “I would have you.” He grinned. “But only if it is what you really wanted to do.”

  “Well, in all honesty, I have been looking forward to this apprenticeship. But I have felt things changing for a while now. I’m going to talk to my tutor, see if there are any other options.”

  “Is it your goal to stay in France?”

  “Not necessarily. Not for the long term. My family is in England.”

  “Well, maybe one day we can go to England together. It can’t be much different from here right?”

  “It’s not,” I agreed, “but let’s talk about this again in a few days, yeah? I want to enjoy being back for a few days before thinking about my future career for a while.” I rested my head on the back seat head rest and glanced at him. “We should probably get dressed. We might scare the farmer if he comes down here and sees us.”

  “You saying he wouldn’t like seeing my amazing body?” He smiled widely.

  “I think it might scar him for life.”

  “Hey!” he exclaimed and leaned over to prod my chest.

  “You don’t have to be so mean.” He pouted so I kissed his lips to stop him.

  “Come on, I have to get home for dinner or aunt Hildie might actually kill me.”

  My body felt sore, much like after the first time and I really felt it when I got out of the car and into the house. My body felt somewhat foreign, like I had lent it to someone else for a short while and they had given it back to me slightly damaged. Ezra was always so lovely though, constantly asking throughout if it was okay, if it was hurting. I could only reply in kisses, because it did feel good overall, and I didn’t want him to think he was doing anything that I didn’t enjoy. It was all about us getting to know each others bodies too. I could tell you every part of a male anatomy, what each part did, how it looked in certain stances, but I didn’t know how to pleasure it - other than what I had seen in videos or read in books. And those don’t really prepare you for real life. My aim was to make Ezra feel like he was on top of the world, and it seemed that his aim was the same. So no matter how clumsy and inexperienced I came across, he embraced it and took the lead. It made me feel like a new person. Although I had lost an essence of innocence, I had gained much more. I felt closer to another person than I had ever felt before. I felt a huge amount of trust and adoration for him, and I was sure that even if other people were to come along after Ezra, I would never be able to replicate the feeling that I had now. Not that I wanted anyone else, for someone else to have to come along and try and fill his shoes. My mind was consumed by him and only him - the thought of a future without him was something that I did not want to think about. There was so much that we didn’t know about each other and I couldn’t wait to learn - to really know everything there was about him, for us to know each other as well as we knew ourselves.

  Monsieur Bardet sat at the head of the table. Which was a little odd as he could have just sat at the side next to my aunt, no one usually sat there, in fact he must have pulled the chair from the side to sit at the top. He shook my hand when Hildie introduced us and spoke to me in French. I managed to understand what he was saying to some extent but it was difficult as he spoke so fast and his voice was incredibly low. Aunt Hildie had told him that I spoke English but he seemed to not care and over dinner they spoke to each other in his language and practically ignored me. I think the reason he sat at the head of the table was to assert some sort of dominance over us - to let us, or maybe just me, know that he was the man of the house now. He had a lot of hair for someone who must have been in his late sixties and I would have put money on him wearing a wig or some kind of toupee. He had small eyes that pierced into you, which seemed a little lost in his big red face. I thought the colour was maybe because he felt flushed, but after a couple of hours of him being the same shade of red I figured that it was just his skin colour.

  “How are you finding living here Victor?” I asked when we had finished our main meal and I had got fed up of not being included in the conversation for so long. He raised his eyebrows at me and dabbed his napkin across his lips.

  “Would you like to try saying that again in French?” he asked me, his English masked in such a thick French accent he was still hard to understand.

  “No,” I said bluntly and I felt my aunt kick at my shin under the table.

  “I think we might have to instill some manners into this boy,” he tutted at aunt Hildie and she gave him an apologetic expression. “You are to call me Monsieur Bardet.”

  “It’s a bit formal isn’t it?” I said and gave a laugh. “Seeing that we all live together.” His eyes narrowed at me and he placed the napkin gently down on the table and started to fold it.

  “It is about showing respect,” he said, not looking at me. “You are but a child, I am your elder. You will show me respect.” I gave my aunt a baffled expression and she shook her head at me.

  “But-”

  “No buts,” he snapped and raised his hand to stop me talking. “This is how it is going to be. Your Aunt has been kind enough to let you stay here, free of charge might I add, you will follow the house rules.” He was frowning at me with such intensity I was sure that his eyes might disappear under the sad folds of skin on his forehead.

  “Oh, so there are rules now?” I asked and crinkled my nose as I looked at him, feeling a strong sense of distaste towards him.

  “There should have been rules in the first place,” he said and sounded like he was scolding my aunt.

  “I’m not a child,” I protested and my aunt hushed me then.

  “Charlie. You need to respect what Monsieur Bardet is saying. He is right, there do need to be some rules in place.”

  “Does there?” I asked, feeling exasperated.

  “Charlie,” she snapped harshly at me and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at her. I didn’t like that this man had come into our home and was basically marking his territory. I also didn’t like how he seemed to be controlling aunt Hildie, she was a strong woman and never answered to anyone. I didn’t think it seemed right her starting to do that now.

  “First things first,” he said, “dinner will always be at six o’clock. If you are not here for dinner you will not eat at all. But that brings us onto the second thing - no going out without permission. Your aunt informed me that you went out a few weeks ago without saying anything.” I looked at her then, feeling somewhat betrayed that she had told him.

  “That’s because she was having dinner with you.”

  “No excuse.” I felt myself glaring at him - who the hell did this guy think he was? “And you spend a lot of time with Andre?”

  “Not a weird amount,” I said, already not liking where this was going. “He is helping me with my French.”

  “He needs to work, that is what your aunt
is paying him to do. No more conversing with him, or the other one.”

  “This is ridiculous,” I said and pushed my chair back to stand up. “They are people - you want me to just ignore them?”

  “Sit down Charlie,” aunt Hildie said and her tone had softened and she looked like she really was pleading with me to calm down.

  “I need to do some work, I need to catch up on what I have missed.”

  “That will need to be done in your bedroom now,” Monsieur Bardet said then cleared his throat. “With you leaving soon we decided to clear out the room you were using for your art things. They are now boxed up.”

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I said, directing the question to Hildie rather than him.

  “It had to be done soon Charlie. It make sense that while Victor was moving in that we sorted some things out.”

  “But that is my stuff. My things that I need for college.” I felt like thing’s were being stripped away from me piece by piece and that they were just waiting for me to leave.

  “I made sure we didn’t ruin anything,” she said and actually looked a little apologetic.

  “Whatever.” I shook my head in dismay and walked away from them. I could hear Victor mumbling something in French with a grumpy tone so I made sure to slam the door to the dining room. I didn’t want to act like a dramatic child but I didn’t feel like I had any other outlet. I also didn’t know what I felt more upset about - them clearing out my study or forbidding me to speak to Andre and Ezra. I could deal with structured meal times and seeking permission for things - but not being stifled.

  I spent the rest of the evening in my room, not caring if either of them were angry with me, feeling that my mood was completely justified. For the first time since I had started college I wanted time to speed up and for the term to finish. I hoped that Ezra would move into his own place so I could maybe spend the rest of the summer there with him, and leave Hildie’s house as soon as I could. Why couldn’t she have found romance with someone kind like Andre? There must be more to Victor for her to think so highly of him. But I had no interest in finding out now. I would be perfectly happy not speaking to the man ever again. I had a sketch book and some pencils in my room so I got them out and sat out on the balcony. It actually felt a bit cold out but I was determined to stay out there and draw for a while. I decided to draw Ezra, I never drew from memory, all my work was done from life so working from images in my head was different. God, it was relaxing. It was like a workshop in remembering all of his beautiful features. I didn’t think I could really get it all across in a sketch - but I was going to try. I did wonder if he knew just how lovely he looked, if he had confidence in his appearance. He must do to some extent, he was so confident that it showed in everything that he did. He wouldn’t be happy about me now being banned from conversing with him during the day. I knew that Andre would most likely be offended by it too, it might even be what makes him consider retirement. That was if I even bothered following the ridiculous new rules. I had never stopped either of them from working, if anything I had helped with a few thing’s, so the suggestion that I might distract them was both insulting to both me and them. Maybe drawing was a good excuse. I had already asked Ezra if I could do a portrait of him, and I knew that Hildie would never want to stand in the way of my art work. Monsieur probably wouldn’t care if he stopped any of my creativity, which is why I would have to ask Hildie on her own.

  ROOFTOPS

  The next morning I left the house before aunt Hildie or Victor had woke up, so I left a note saying that I had gone to town for the day. I was already breaking a rule, but I didn’t think that they would appreciate me waking them up to ask just a simple question. I did decide to walk in though, not wanting to deliberately anger my aunt by taking her car without asking. It was such a beautiful fresh morning that I didn’t mind walking at all. The roads were empty - it still being too early for anyone to be about, and when they did rise it would be to go to Church in the outskirts of town. It was a tiny little church and very beautiful. It was made of tin and painted red, inside it was made completely made of wood. It got incredibly hot in there in the summer, and was of course freezing in the winter, but I loved how quaint it was. We were not a religious family, but sometimes I would go down to the church just to sit for a while on one of the wooden benches. It was the perfect place to have time alone, and its doors were always open. It didn’t have a traditional reverend either, the services were led by nominated members of the community - which really gave it a beautiful familiarity as everyone knew each other there. I passed it as I neared the square and saw a couple of men outside tending to the flowers that sat in the beds near the door and gave them a wave and they politely waved back.

  Nothing was open in town on a Sunday, so I sat on a bench near the book shop and waited for Ezra. Breaking another rule and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. Monsieur Bardet had another thing coming if he thought he was going to keep me away from Ezra completely. Plus, it wasn’t as if he was working on a Sunday either. When I saw him approach I smiled to myself. He had one hand in his trouser pocket and the other was holding a book, probably the same one that he was reading the other day. He had black sunglasses on, rather square in shape but they suited him. He pushed them up onto the top of his head when he saw me and reached out his hand to help me stand up.

  “Morning,” he said and kissed both of my cheeks. “You look lovely today.”

  “I was thinking the same thing about you,” I said tiptoed ever so slightly to kiss the tip of his nose which made him chuckle. “I like your glasses.”

  “Yeah? They were my Grandfathers.”

  “Well, he clearly had a good sense of style.”

  “He would have been very happy to hear you say that. He would have liked you.” He looked a little sad as he spoke but then smiled again. “Let’s go to the apartment.”

  “Will the landlord be up?” I asked and looked at my watch, it was only just nine.

  “Yes, she said she will be there to meet us,” he nodded and proudly took my hand in his as we walked. I wasn’t sure if he did it because no one was around or if he had found a new confidence, so I didn’t question it, I simply enjoyed his hand in mine. We walked quite a distance from the square to one of the very narrow alleys that didn’t allow much sunlight down them. He stopped at an old wooden door that hung against a burnt orange wall and grinned.

  “I know this isn’t anything like your aunt’s house,” he said a little apologetically and I rolled my eyes.

  “My aunt’s house is far too big,” I said, “I’m excited to see inside.” He knocked on the door and a few minutes later a plump lady with bright red hair opened the door. She greeted Ezra with a lovely smile and they spoke together for a minute before she gestured for us to come inside. The hallway was tiled with emerald green tiles and the walls were painted a vibrant orange. I liked it already. She handed Ezra a key and said something along the lines of “You know where it is,” then gave us a nod. Ezra took my hand again and let me upstairs, which seemed to just keep going and going. From the outside it didn’t look like the building had that many floors, but we went up three flights until we reached the top and a blue door.

  “It will keep you fit, all these stairs,” Ezra said as he unlocked it and pushed it open for me to step inside. It was tiny, one room with a door off of it which I assumed had a toilet inside. The floors were wooden and you stepped directly into a small kitchen area with just a few cupboards, worktops, fridge and an oven. As I walked into the room further I smiled at the large window that was at the end that went from the floor to the ceiling that let in a beautiful amount of light. There was a two seater sofa next to the window and a coffee table in front of it. I turned back to look at Ezra who had also stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

  “Where’s the bed?” I asked with a laugh and he pointed above his head.

  “How did you miss the ladder?” I looked to where he pointed, above the kitchen was a split ceilin
g with an old looking wooden ladder placed to the side that was the only way up.

  “It’s up there?” I grinned, knowing from looking that it would just be a mattress as the space was too small to have a proper bed and the ceiling to low to even stand up.

  “It’s…cosy,” Ezra laughed and went to stand in front of me and took my hands into his. “I know this is not what you are used to. And I wish I could be showing you around a beautiful house right now-”

  “Stop. This place is perfect.”

  “Really?” he asked and crunched up his nose a bit. “You don’t mind how small it is?”

  “I love how small it is. We don’t need a lot of room. It will just be us here, this is more than I could ever want.” I spoke sincerely and I could tell then just how worried he had been about showing it to me.

  “You really would want to live here with me?”

  “Yes. More than anything.” I kissed him gently to show him that I meant it and I heard him let out a sigh.

  “I am so relieved.”

  “You didn’t think I would like it?”

  “I wasn’t sure if you would want to call somewhere like this home.”

  “I love it Ezra. Seriously. Can we tell her we want it? I can take some money out of my account if we need a deposit. I said I would help pay.”

  “Yeah,” he smiled, “I have the deposit covered. Don’t worry. Stay here. I will go talk to her.” He looked so happy as he left the room again and I let out a heavy breath and looked around again. There was no denying just how compact it was, but I was feeling so excited to make it our own, our private little place to enjoy together. I eventually decided to climb up the ladder, and I was right, there was a mattress and nothing else and I had to move on my knees to get onto it so I didn’t bump my head. I lay down on it and smiled to myself. This was fast. Really fast. But it felt so right and I knew then that I wouldn’t be going back to London any time soon.