Barcelona Rain #AStormOfFanFiction

3: Remnants of the Past

Rikkard stood on the deck of the boat, peering over the railing. He had to stand on the tips of his toes to see over the edge, his black hair rustling in the breeze that swept over the churning waters.

He'd never been to France before. He wasn't sure how different it'd be from home, but it looked more or less the same from here.

"Rick, step away from the rail, darling," called a voice from across the boat. "You'll fall overboard if you lean over any further."

He turned his head, frowning. "But Mum, then I won't be able to see."

"You'll see soon enough, dear. We're almost there."

Rikkard allowed himself one final glance at the sprawling city ahead before reluctantly easing himself down from the railing. He walked over to his mother, who sat casually on a trunk, her hair gently swaying in the wind, and plopped on the deck.

"How much longer?" he asked, squinting in the late afternoon sun.

"Not long," the Lady Samantha answered, smiling at him. "No more than an hour, I'm sure."

"Where's father?"

"Talking to the captain, I think."

He sighed in reply, tracing the lines on the wood of the deck, itching for something to do. He hated ships. There was nothing to do other than run from the front end of the ship to the back, or watch the waves, both of which became boring after the first few hours.

The ship's crew had tried to let him help steer the ship, but his father hadn't liked that, so he'd stopped. After that, he tried to read some of the picture books he'd brought along, but the motion of the sea had made his stomach queasy when practicing the words, so he'd been forced to abandon that, too.

He hoped Paris wasn't boring. It had been Mum's idea to come and visit Aunt Margaret, who lived there with Uncle Henry, who his mum had said was a really important man that traveled a lot so they currently lived in France instead of back home.

He didn't remember Aunt Margaret that well, probably because the last time he'd seen her, he'd been a baby. At least, that's what Mum had told him.

His father hadn't been particularly excited about visiting Aunt Margaret either, but he'd agreed to go once Mum had said something about remembering their honeymoon in France.

He didn't know what a honeymoon was, but it had to be something good if it made Father visit relatives. Maybe it was a France thing.

Either way, Rikkard just wanted to get off the ship and go exploring. And get some dinner. He was hungry. Maybe Father would take them out to eat.

He pulled his knees up to his chest and laid his head on top.

Only an hour to go.

************************

Paris was huge.

Rikkard held on to his mother's hand tightly, eyes wide as he looked at his surroundings.

It was even busier than the city in England. There were so many people! And he couldn't even understand what half of them were saying.

"Mum?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Why do all the people here talk funny?"

There was a laugh from his mum. "They're speaking French, Rick. They don't talk in English, like we do."

"Why?"

"It's a culture thing. Different countries speak different languages."

"Why?"