French Lessons

by Georgia Harries

  “What?” Harry bellowed. He knew the staff at The Grand all too well. This would be talked about. That Harry Walker’s head had been so turned by his marriage, he was now letting his teenage daughter run amok. How dare she use that card without his permission? Tamara looked about distraught, trying to work out where Eleanor had gone. She stilled her husband with a firm touch to his arm. Charlie too looked furious.

  At that moment, a piercing scream and a loud splash broke the air. Harry, Charlie, and the stewards all rushed to the side of the yacht to see Eleanor flailing helplessly in the sea. As had been inevitable, she had plunged into the water and was now head deep in the soft, cold waters of the bay. Shocked and gasping for air, she tried to scream but was pulled down by the weight of her clothes. Her head swam with the effects of the champagne, and she choked as she swallowed seawater. The splashing was loud in Harry’s ears. He was frozen momentarily in shock.

  “Help! Help me someone!” Eleanor’s whole body was leaden in the water, as the sobering sea held her captive and struggling to keep her head above water.

  “Fabien! Someone please fetch a rope! A lifejacket!” Harry yelled high–pitched in a voice he barely recognised. His only thoughts were now for his daughter’s safety. Tamara rushed to fetch a large bath towel from under the lounger.

  Charlie wasted no time whatsoever. Hurriedly, he climbed over the side of the Eleanor–Jane and descended the diving ladder confidently, his feet entering the water. He felt his shoes fill with cold wetness but stepped lower and held out his hand.

  “Grab my hand!”

  The sea was low and he could see that Eleanor had been in no danger of drowning. But she had very narrowly missed the side of the neighbouring vessel.

  “Eleanor! Are you OK?” Tamara screamed.

  Still in the deepest shock, with the effects of the alcohol fading fast, Eleanor grabbed Charlie’s offered hand. She spluttered the salted water from her mouth.

  “Oh Daddy! Help me!” She burst into tears as her heavy sodden dress pulled her against Charlie’s tugging, back into the water.

  “Son, are you able to lift her up on your own?” Harry leaned over and down, towards the surface behind Charlie. With one confident haul Charlie yanked Eleanor free from the sea. She placed a foot on to the bottom rung of the ladder. She was shaking life a leaf.

  “Oh thank God....” Tamara whispered.

  Within seconds, Eleanor had clambered back on to the deck after Charlie. Around her the staff gawped, incredulous. Harry and Tamara stood next to each other in silent disbelief. Tamara held out the towel, her face a picture of relief. Rallying, Charlie coughed and straightened his jacket. This was quite the most bizarre day he had ever experienced. For two pins he’d get the hell out and leave them to it. Damn the girl, with her sexy laugh and her cute little body.

  Dripping wet, Eleanor stood helpless and quivering on the deck. Her father advanced toward her slowly, throwing a furious look to one of the deckhands who had failed to conceal a giggle. Tamara dearly hoped this would not upset her husband too much. His workload was so stressful, and he’d been so worried about Eleanor since the wedding.

  But Harry’s worrying had ceased in a flash as soon as Eleanor had tumbled and hit the water. He had in fact made his mind up on hearing the awful insult she had thrown at his wife. Harry had decided that he would be applying the only disciplinary measure that would remedy his beautiful, errant daughter. Much more of this tomfoolery and bad–mouthing from her, and not only would the entire holiday be ruined, but quite probably so too would his marriage. He glared at Eleanor in mounting fury. She stood pathetic as a drowned rat. The crew made fast the ropes she had dragged away from the sidings, and Pierre and the other boys swept away the water that had been brought aboard. Charlie removed his shoes and emptied them.

  At last, Walker spoke.

  “What in God’s name were you thinking of, you stupid girl? You’ve disgraced us all! And you were lucky not to be drowned, or very seriously injured! Tamara dear – give her the towel.”

  His wife did so, wrapping it around the girl’s shoulders. Eleanor could not look at her. She clasped her arms around herself, trying to bring warmth back to her body.

  “Daddy I – I’m so sorry!” she sputtered. “ I – I just thought it would be fun!”

  “Fun? This is a working harbour. I have a paid crew of professionals to think of. And you could have been killed, you idiot child! As for using that card I gave you to consort with strange men in a hotel bar, I’m disgusted!”

  Charlie moved to interject.

  “I must speak up sir – I can assure you that I did not –”

  “Don’t worry, boy. I wasn’t referring to you. You have been more than kind enough to escort my wayward daughter home. And most of all, thank you for your quick action in saving her from the water. For that I am most grateful. But I must ask you now to leave.”

  Charlie respected the man’s words. And in any case he’d had enough .He wanted to dry off, have a drink and think it through. The little devil maybe wasn’t worth it.

  “Of course. Goodnight Eleanor. Good evening to you all,” he nodded politely as he made his way off the yacht. He turned briefly and looked the teenage beauty in the eye. She was snivelling and looked forlorn. Despite his annoyance at the way the evening had been ruined, Charlie felt even more deeply attracted and protective of her.

  “I do hope to see you again, Miss Walker. And when I do, I very much hope our encounter is a lot less dramatic than today’s has been!”

  Eleanor felt more humiliated by the second, as she watched Charlie disappear slowly up the hill. He knew deep down he would be back, though. There was no way he was giving up on that fiery little blonde quite so easily. She badly owed him an apology and he’d be sure to get it. In the meantime Charlie reckoned as he smiled to himself, little Eleanor Walker would doubtless be getting something else altogether from her father.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Aboard the motor–yacht there was another stony silence, broken only by the gulls and the lapping water. It seemed as if the whole town had been struck mute by the shocking antics of the Englishman’s teenage daughter. What a stir she was causing, thought young Pierre from the galley where he managed to peek up to deck. And Monsieur Harry did not seem like the kind of father who would see this kind of behaviour go unpunished.

  Eleanor lowered her head in deep shame, trembling in wet, cold embarrassment. Harry walked closer to her, still very quiet. He knew exactly what he intended to do, and do very thoroughly at that. He turned to the staff still in attendance on deck.

  “Everyone – that’s the end of it all now, please. Your work today is done. Please feel free to go up to the town. I insist that you have a drink, on me. Fabien, be so kind please as to organise this with whichever tavern you all please. Despite my ridiculous daughter’s best efforts, this is not a floorshow. Stephens, please be assured that my child’s dangerous disobedience will be dealt with most severely. And it is no reflection on the very tight ship you run.” The skipper nodded grimly at Walker.

  Eleanor was startled. Whatever did Daddy mean? Surely she had suffered enough with her fall in the water? She’d learned her lesson already. Raising her head, she caught Tamara’s eye. The woman looked forgiving and concerned, not smug. Oh dear, thought Eleanor. Why did I call her such horrible names?

  The staff slowly made moves off the Eleanor–Jane. This was unheard of. A paid night off on the town, courtesy of the boss. Stephens was still irate. He could see that little brat in hell, for her behaviour. She badly needed a damned good hiding. If she were his daughter, he’s have had her over his knee for a spanking there and then in front of everyone. In the hope that Walker had not gone soft since marrying the American, Stephens now willed his employer to give the girl a red-hot bot, with no nonsense.

  Tamara felt she had to speak.

  “Harry dear, do keep calm. No harm has been done. It’s the sun, and the wine. You said it yourself – it’s so very hot her
e. And you won’t do it again, will you Eleanor?”

  The teenager felt all the much more worse, hearing Tamara’s kind, sympathetic tones. She had wanted so much to hate her, and it was proving completely impossible.

  Harry was not to be moved by Tamara’s reasoning.

  “I’ll soon sober her up,” he said quietly. “Eleanor. Below deck with you immediately. Unless you want me to recall the crew? Give those fine gentlemen all of the fun of the cabaret? Would you like them to have as good a view of your punishment, as they did of your foolish, drunken acrobatics on my yacht? I really would not recommend that. Go to my bureau, now! I warned you yesterday what I would do if you didn’t behave. Well, you’ve got it coming. Now please!”

  Horrified, Eleanor ran. Her soaked prom style skirted dress weighed ever more heavily. She shivered with cold as she struggled down the spiral stair below deck. Surely Daddy didn’t mean to punish her that way? She was nineteen for goodness sake! He wouldn’t, would he?

  Charlie, oh that lovely Charlie! Why had she been so careless? If only she hadn’t played around by the diving ladder. She had thought she might drown when she hit the water. And now her head and her tummy swam sickly with the champagne, and the shock and cold. It was a terrible few minutes for Eleanor. She crept into her father’s bureau at port side and stood awkwardly. She began to wring the water from the hem of her dress. Daddy never really stayed cross with her for very long, she reasoned with herself. Eleanor fully expected to be confined to her cabin for a spell. She certainly wouldn’t be allowed up to Monte Carlo for the time being. Well, that was OK – there was plenty else to do. And of course she would apologise profusely to all concerned. Including the people at The Grand. And Charlie. And she’d be as good as gold for the rest of the holiday. Beyond that, her dear, kind father would surely accept that it was a one–off.

  Up on deck, Tamara hugged her husband tight around his waist. He was stiff with anger.

  “Darling, you must have been terrified. When she went under the water I really thought the worst. Should I talk to her?”

  Harry turned, wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed the top of her head.

  “We are way beyond the stage of talking, my sweetie. I’ve tried everything. She is slowly ruining this holiday, and I’m simply not standing for any more of it. She needs to be taught a damned good lesson.”

  “Do you mean you’re going to – like you said you might?”

  “Tan her backside? You’re damned right I am. She’s not had it often. But I was wrong to think she’d never need it again. She really is a very sweet child, deep down. But I’m all for it when it’s necessary. I don’t care how old she is. And I reckon there’s a great deal more than my hand required, on this occasion. I’m not having my only daughter cavort around in foreign bars like a call girl. And I am certainly not having her say one more word against you, my darling. Little madam won’t sit down for a week by the time I’m done with her.”

  Tamara took in what her husband was saying. He was clearly intent on a stiff corporal punishment.

  “You mean to – how will you – “ she found it a little embarrassing searching for the words.

  Harry didn’t.

  “My little Eleanor is going straight over my knee. And depending how she takes to that bit, she might be very lucky to keep her knickers on. That dress is coming up, for a start. She wanted a tan. Well, she’s going to get one! Teenager or not!”

  Tamara smiled faintly and stroked his face gently. .

  “You know, you are a wise old guy, Harry. She is very lucky. My parents never cared enough for me to bother. I was never spanked, never hugged, never had any real time with them. Whenever I was unhappy, they just bought me things. It’s a small miracle I didn’t turn out a complete reprobate!”

  They both laughed gently.

  “I know, my dear one. You are all but a self–made wonder!” He bent down and gave her a lingering kiss.

  “I’d best go deal with that impossibly naughty daughter of mine before she catches pneumonia. I’ll not be too long. Why don’t you relax, honey? You must be rightly sick to death of the Walker family for one day. I won’t be long. Then we can maybe curl up for the night?” He kissed the tip of her nose.

  Below deck Eleanor stood still dank and wet, shivering unbearably cold in the bureau. She had her speech all planned. First and foremost, she needed to make friends with Tamara. As she heard her father at last open the door, she turned to run to him. Closing the door firmly behind him, Harry stopped her from running into his arms.

  “Oh darling Daddy! I’m so sorry! I gave you such a terrible fright! You and Tamara! Honestly I am not hurt! It was a little scary but I’m ok, I promise!”

  Still Harry didn’t embrace her. Eleanor was rather unnerved by the frozen anger still written all over his face.

  “Please hug me Daddy! I’m so cold!”

  Suddenly, Harry marched over to his swivel chair by his large desk, pulling his daughter by the arm.

  “Well, you needn’t worry about that I can tell you. You’ll not be feeling cold for much longer, Eleanor. In fact, you’re about to feel a whole lot warmer than you ever have in your life, young lady!”

  “Daddy! What on earth do you mean?”

  Eleanor gasped as her father sat down. In a split second, with no ceremony whatsoever, he dragged Eleanor face down by the arm across his broad lap.

  No! It couldn’t be! He hadn’t even given her the chance to explain! She panicked and tried to struggle up off his knees, but there was absolutely no chance of that. At six feet four and extremely well exercised for his age, a slim young girl was no challenge whatsoever for Harry Walker.

  Eleanor wriggled in terror and tried to turn round and find her father’s face, her wet clothes all but making the effort impossible.

  “No! You can’t do this, Daddy! I’m nineteen! Please! Let me explain everything! Ooh! Stop!” she waved her arms and kicked her legs in fierce protest.

  Harry was calm and focused as he pulled his daughter tight to him, his left arm heavy around her waist. Water was pooling steadily beneath the chair from her drenched clothing, soaking his linen sailing slacks.

  “Please Daddy! This is just not right! Let me go!”

  “You’re going nowhere,” said Harry grimly, as he settled his writhing charge into position. “You have totally disgraced yourself in public. You spent my money without my say–so. You then risked your life with your tipsy horseplay. And you’ve been ghastly to Tamara since the day you clapped eyes on her. Well, it all ends right here and now, my girl.”

  He gripped Eleanor firmly into place. She was locked across his knees and tight against his stomach, which was very well–toned for a man of his age.

  Eleanor mewled and struggled to kick her legs higher. Her thick, wet, blonde curls fell in messed bunches around her eyes, her head tipping forward to the floor. Had Daddy taken leave of his senses? This was the way he used to – spank her! But she was a child then. She was now a grown woman. This was crazy!

  As his daughter puffed and struggled, Harry stilled any further notion of kicking by clasping his right leg over both of hers. Her feet were weighted down by her high–heeled patent sandals, which were now completely ruined by the seawater. Eleanor squealed in loud defiance and beat her fists against the chair leg.

  “Oh stop it, please Daddy! This is ridiculous!”

  “I’ll tell you what’s ridiculous,” said Harry as he gripped the hem of Eleanor’s dress in stoic anger.

  “What’s ridiculous is that a nineteen year old girl should behave like a drunken lout in public. Enough is enough, Eleanor. You’ve left me no choice but to punish you most severely.”

  Harry quickly lifted the skirt of the dripping wet purple dress, and rolled it up in disarray to her waist.

  “Nooo!” Eleanor was close to tears. How dare Daddy do that? She was a grown–up!

  “Please not like that Daddy! It’s not fair! I’ve said I’m sorry!”

  Outside
in the corridor, Tamara considered going in to the bureau to intervene. It was all becoming rather heated from the sounds of it. As she approached the door however, she heard Harry continue his lecture and realised it was way too late. He had to be allowed to discipline his own daughter however he saw fit. Turning away and heading for the day lounge, Tamara now felt truly sorry for the teenager. Being put over a paternal knee at nineteen would be utterly unbearable. Thinking back to her own teen years when she hardly saw her parents, she wondered how she would have felt herself. Deeply embarrassed of course, especially if her panties were removed. Would Harry do that to Eleanor? It had sounded as though he meant to. But oh, to be cared about that much! Tamara could just make out her husband’s stern words and Eleanor’s ascending pleas, as she wandered back towards starboard

  While inside the tightly closed bureau door, father and daughter made quite a picture. The seawater from Eleanor’s clothes had formed a tidy puddle on the floor underneath the chair where her father sat, his trouser legs now equally wet through. The nubile teen was prostrate across his broad, strong lap. Her pretty linen dress was crumpled up and lying sodden across her back. Her legs were bare and dripping, trapped under his heavy shin.

  “Let me go Daddy, please! I’ll never do it again, I promise!” Eleanor implored, her voice shaking terribly as she beat her fists in mounting fear and indignity. Harry was completely deaf to her cries. He re–arranged her firmly so she tipped further forward and her perfect, peachy bottom was raised higher. She was now ideally placed for the spanking that was looking more and more inevitable with every passing second.

  “You’ll be sorry alright, young madam. You’re going to be very sorry for quite some time,” Harry’s stern lecture continued. Knowing that on this occasion the application of his hand alone simply would not do, he had spotted the perfect implement with which to administer the necessary. It was his own deck–shoe. Leaning down, he removed it from his right foot and lifted it up, briefly inspecting the thick two–inch leather sole. The sudden movement confused Eleanor for a second. Then looking back through the chair legs, she saw what her father had just retrieved.