{"id":989,"date":"2012-05-08T06:00:20","date_gmt":"2012-05-08T13:00:20","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/?p=989"},"modified":"2012-05-07T22:23:05","modified_gmt":"2012-05-08T05:23:05","slug":"season-6-episode-4","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/?p=989","title":{"rendered":"Season 6, Episode 4"},"content":{"rendered":"

Eurail Cr\u00e8me Br\u00fbl\u00e9e<\/strong><\/em>
\nMia uncomfortably tugged at the too-tight waistband of her jeans as she scanned the selection of food available at the Gard Du Nord<\/em> cafe. She\u2019d been in Europe for less than a week and voila!<\/em> Love handle central. She had hoped that her rapid departure from England – on the wonderful National Express bus service, overnight London-Paris (wouldn\u2019t be doing that again in a hurry) – would reverse the kilos that had magically appeared as soon as she stepped off the plane in London. She had been sorely disappointed. Now in Paris, the home of croissant, baguette, fromage<\/em> and a whole heap of people who dressed well and didn\u2019t seem to ever put on weight, she was rapidly increasing the size of her arse, decreasing the size of her bank account and not managing to forget the things she longed to.<\/p>\n

On a whim, she\u2019d booked an overnight train to Berlin. She knew, realistically, that her money wasn\u2019t going to stretch too much further and she\u2019d have to go back to London soon. She just couldn\u2019t face it yet; not at the moment. She assumed Ana and Willow were both still there, the brief phone call with Ana the only contact she\u2019d had with them since the breakfast disaster. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the memories. Even thinking about that morning made her furious. Some friends they<\/em> were.<\/p>\n

She gazed wistfully at the pastry selection in front of her, forcing herself to settle on a sad looking fruit cup containing pale melon and slightly browning apple, for the grand total of\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cEight Euro!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExcusez-moi<\/em>?\u201d The lady behind the counter ambled over.<\/p>\n

\u201cEr\u2026nothing\u2026I mean, nada, I mean\u2026\u201d How the hell did you say \u2018nothing\u2019 in French<\/em>?<\/p>\n

Mia ran her eyes over the prices of everything else. Why was the sweet, buttery stuff always the cheapest?<\/p>\n

She sighed. \u201cCr\u00e8me br\u00fbl\u00e9e.\u201d<\/p>\n

Screw the weight loss. Soon she wouldn\u2019t be able to afford any food at all and then the kilos would just fall off her, no problem. Her stomach grumbled in protest as she shoved the pudding in her backpack. Should save it for later when she was really starving.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Mia shifted uncomfortably in her seat, thinking poisonous thoughts about all those people who could afford a bed in the sleeping car. The air was stifling in the carriage, thick with stale sweat and perfume. She felt nauseous, wishing the windows opened. She rested her head against the cool glass and peered into the dark countryside, the landscape rushing past in a blur, illuminated by a bright moon. The man next to her was snoring loudly and had somehow managed to take the entirety of his own seat and about two thirds of hers. She gently nudged his leg but he was out cold.<\/p>\n

The train shuddered. The landscape gradually came into focus as the train slowed, eventually coming to a complete standstill. She looked around the carriage, wondering why they had stopped. Everyone else seemed too busy sleeping to notice. Very carefully, she stepped over the man next to her. Shoving her phone in her pocket and picking up the package containing her not-so-healthy dinner, she walked quietly through the carriage full of sleeping people.<\/p>\n

At the end of the carriage, one of the doors was ajar. The train had stopped next to a tiny station – it wasn’t even as long as the train. She peered outside and saw a man standing on the edge of the platform, his back to her. The orange glow from a lighter illuminated the air around him as he lit a cigarette. A wooden bench and a dilapidated ticket booth were the only other things on the platform.<\/p>\n

Mia glanced around. There didn\u2019t seem to be anyone to stop her, so she squeezed through the door and onto the platform, grateful for the fresh air. The man turned at the noise. She’d seen him earlier – in Paris – as they were boarding. He was about her age, dressed in a scruffy denim jacket and dark jeans. He had a scarf knotted casually around his throat and his hair was cut in the latest fashion. Over his shoulder was slung a canvas bag.<\/p>\n

\u201cBonjour<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mia nodded in greeting. \u201cHello. Bonjour<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n

He took a long drag on his cigarette, blowing the smoke out slowly. \u201cEnglish? American?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAustralian.\u201d<\/p>\n

His eyes flicked up and down Mia\u2019s body and he nodded in what seemed like approval. He took his cigarettes out of his pocket and offered one to her, shrugging when she declined.<\/p>\n

\u201cJean-Pierre,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cMia.\u201d<\/p>\n

He took another drag of his cigarette.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you know why we\u2019ve stopped?\u201d Mia said.<\/p>\n

\u201cCows.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCows?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEscaped from a pasture. They\u2019re blocking the track up ahead. We\u2019ll be here for a few hours at least.\u201d He spoke almost perfect English, with a lovely, lilting French accent.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre we supposed to get off the train?\u201d Mia said, looking around anxiously.<\/p>\n

He shrugged. \u201cWhy not.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell\u2026maybe we\u2019re not allowed to\u2026?\u201d Mia\u2019s voice trailed off.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you always do what you are told?\u201d Jean-Pierre said.
\n<\/em><\/p>\n

Yes<\/em>, thought Mia. Usually<\/em>. \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jean-Pierre glanced around. \u201cCome with me,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

He went to the back edge of the platform and jumped down, stretching out his hand towards Mia. She hesitated then lowered herself down. There was an overgrown road leading away from the station but she couldn\u2019t see anything else except flat countryside for miles.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve got ages,\u201d he said, smiling at her concerned expression and opening his canvas bag. Out of it he pulled a full bottle of whiskey, a plastic cup and a small tin.<\/p>\n

\u201cShouldn\u2019t we wait on the platform\u201d Mia said. \u201cWhat if the train leaves without us?\u201d<\/p>\n

He gave her a withering look. \u201cRelax. We will hear when the train gets ready to move.\u201d He shoved the bottle of whiskey towards Mia, saying \u201cpour,\u201d as he opened the tin and started to roll a joint.<\/p>\n

Mia sighed and poured a cup of whiskey. When in France\u2026<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Half the bottle later, Mia stood up. \u201cI need to pee,\u201d she said, wavering on her feet.<\/p>\n

\u201cI won\u2019t look,\u201d Jean-Pierre said, pretending to cover his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cVery funny,\u201d Mia laughed. \u201cCome on, we should get back on the train now.\u201d<\/p>\n

Jean-Pierre rolled his eyes, but reluctantly stood up. They clambered back onto the station, the whiskey making them giggle like school girls.<\/p>\n

Mia looked at the train tracks in front of them. Sobriety rushed through her. \u201cJean-Pierre, wasn\u2019t there a train here not long ago?\u201d<\/p>\n

Jean-Pierre\u2019s mouth dropped open as he looked up and down the empty tracks.<\/p>\n

\u201cMerde<\/em>!\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s no phone reception,\u201d she said, groaning and putting her head in her hands. She was dangerously close to tears. Everything she owned was on that train, including the rest of her money which she\u2019d stupidly left in a bag next to her seat.<\/p>\n

Jean-Pierre didn\u2019t seem to be listening. He pointed to the paper bag that Mia was still holding. \u201cWhat\u2019s in there?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mia had forgotten all about the Cr\u00e8me br\u00fbl\u00e9e. \u201cI guess it\u2019s our dinner,\u201d she said, immensely grateful that she had at least bought that off the train. They wouldn\u2019t starve. She split the dessert and put half in the lid, handing it to Jean-Pierre. He took a bite and promptly spat it out.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is this\u2026offense to French cuisine!\u201d<\/p>\n

Mia bristled. \u201cCr\u00e8me br\u00fbl\u00e9e. I got it from the station.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no, no,\u201d Jean-Pierre said, taking the container from her and throwing it as far away as he could.<\/p>\n

\u201cWait! That\u2019s all I’ve had to eat since breakfast!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou would rather starve that eat that,\u201d he said with certainty.<\/p>\n

\u201cFor your information,\u201d Mia said through clenched teeth, \u201cI would NOT rather starve than\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

He cut her off, handing her the whiskey bottle again. \u201cDrink.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mia was about to object, but decided against it. \u201cOh, Fuck it.\u201d She lifted the bottle to her lips and downed a huge gulp, her eyes burning and her throat scorched by the alcohol. She coughed.<\/p>\n

Jean-Pierre nodded satisfactorily and sat down, patting the ground next to him. \u201cWhen my grandmother makes it she uses fresh eggs and real vanilla,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd she serves it immediately, not from some paper bag. The caramel is crispy and hot. Not like that rubbish.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease don\u2019t talk about food,\u201d Mia said, her stomach grumbling loudly.<\/p>\n

\u201cSuit yourself,\u201d he said. He took the bottle from Mia and had a sip. \u201cWhat about sex?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExcuse me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, we should be close together,\u201d Jean-Pierre said. \u201cFor warmth.\u201d He took off his jacket and wrapped his arms around Mia, pulling her close. She could smell whiskey and pot on his breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cTouch me again and I\u2019ll fucking kill you,\u201d Mia growled, shoving him away.<\/p>\n

Jean-Pierre grinned and shrugged. \u201cWhat is it you say? Can\u2019t hurt for trying?\u201d<\/p>\n

He rolled up his jacket to use as a headrest and promptly fell asleep.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

At some point in the very long, cold night, Mia must have fallen asleep, because when she opened her eyes it was daylight and there was an old man standing over her. He removed his cap and scratched his head, looking very confused.<\/p>\n

She shoved Jean-Pierre who woke with a start. He rubbed his eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe will give us a lift to the town,\u201d Jean-Pierre said, after they\u2019d exchanged a few, fast words in French. \u201cBut we have to ride with the chickens.\u201d He pointed towards an old truck, the back stacked with chicken coops.<\/p>\n

Mia groaned. Seriously, could this day get any more ridiculous?<\/p>\n

As they bumped along the uneven road, Mia could feel her hangover growing worse by the second. Somehow, Jean-Pierre had managed to fall asleep – again – propped up on one of the cages\u00a0\u00e0 poules<\/em>. Opposite, a chicken turned its head quizzically to the side, and stared at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you looking at?\u201d she muttered.<\/p>\n

The chicken let out a squawk but didn\u2019t look away.<\/p>\n

She could feel something vibrating in her pocket. Her phone! She had reception! We must be nearing civilisation<\/em>, she thought happily, pulling it out of her pocket.<\/p>\n

It was Ana again.<\/p>\n

She hesitated, but decided to answer. Being stuck in the countryside with a narcoleptic French man, a bottle of whiskey and a some chickens had a tendency of putting things in perspective. Maybe it was time to forgive her friend.<\/p>\n

\u201cHi Ana.\u201d<\/p>\n

There was a pause at the other end of the phone and then a man\u2019s voice spoke. \u201cWe are trying to find a family member of Ana.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mia\u2019s heart skipped a beat. \u201cI\u2019m her sister,\u201d she said, not exactly sure why felt the compulsion to lie.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is Detective Gomez.\u201d A sigh. \u201cI\u2019m afraid I have some bad news.\u201d<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Eurail Cr\u00e8me Br\u00fbl\u00e9e Mia uncomfortably tugged at the too-tight waistband of her jeans as she scanned the selection of food available at the Gard Du Nord cafe. She\u2019d been in Europe for less than a week and voila! Love handle central. She had hoped that her rapid departure from England – on the wonderful National […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_s2mail":"yes"},"categories":[218],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/989"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=989"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/989\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":991,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/989\/revisions\/991"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=989"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=989"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ravenoustales.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=989"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}