Something to Declare by Cyclist

Chapter 41

This was it, the moment I had dreaded. Her hand stayed where it was for far too long, and she glared at me with what seemed like real hatred.

 « Chef! Il dit qu’il est un travesti! Qu’est-ce que je doive faire ?  »*

A wannabe de Gaulle, or maybe Clouseau, came across, and looked me up and down as if he was contemplating something unpleasant laid by a dog. Geoff came to my side.

“What’s going on, love?”

“They’ve just found my extras and she doesn’t like me”

Nose and hat was speaking to his harpy.

 «Faut qu’on le fouille.  »

He called across to two of his other security guards, and needless to say they were both men. I realised exactly what he intended as I caught parts of a muttered conversation, in which the French words and phrases most prominent were those for “search”, “queer” and “strip”. He called across another couple of knuckledraggers, and as they cornered Geoff, the first pair pushed me over to a small room past the smirking bitch. The door shut behind me, and the taller of the two bluntly said as he pulled on a pair of rubber gloves

 «Déshabille-toi »

I just stood and wept. All of the delight of the last few days drained from me with my tears. I began undoing the buttons of my blouse with hands trembling so much I just couldn’t manage the second. I felt ready to collapse on the floor and curl up, I just wanted Geoff there, or to die, or both. The other guard spoke.

 « Alain, arráªte. ဠton avis, vraiment, celle-ci est un travesti ? Ni un terroriste, non, moi je dirais. Laisse-la tranquille, tu sais quelle espá¨ce de salope est Hélá¨ne, et Lebel n’est qu’un fils de pute, et la chose la plus importante, cette fouille est illégal. Putain de bordel de merde, laisse la dame tranquille !  »

He turned to me.

“You are English, non?”

I couldn’t be bothered to argue, and just nodded. I was starting to be hopeful that this might yet turn my way.

“I am sorry that this is happened. The man, Lebel, he is shit, and woman we don’t think get any sex, and she like nobody ever. I must work here, I must do what he say me to do, but I will not be stood before a magistrate, vous m’avez compris? We go back now, and we say you have had searching, and Alain, he says nothing, la ferme, hein, Alain? Then I speak with syndicat, with union, non? And with big chef and Lebel he gets problem. Lebel, he is not all French men, you know, he is just salaud. We go now speak to your copain, you fly your home and we say sorry for this bad thing”

I couldn’t help it, I hugged him, and kissed his cheek, and the bald little man blushed bright red. Alain started to chuckle at that, and I just looked at him and quoted “Toi?”

He looked away, and I did up my button before making an effort to wipe my face on a roll of blue paper towel on a shelf in the corner. Marc, as the bald man turned out to be called, led me out of the room straight to a toilet, which to my great relief was marked with a skirted silhouette.

Once more I seemed to be finding proof of my deeply-held belief that while the world is indeed full of turds, they are greatly outnumbered by the bulk of people who are just normal, decent, caring human beings. The thought of having to stand naked in front of those two men…I shuddered, and decided that whatever happened I would have Lebel’s balls in a jar.

My two rather ugly knights delivered me back to Geoff after I had washed my face. He was slumped in a corner and had clearly been crying. There were two policemen there as well, and Lebel was holding a red-stained tissue to his nose. I rushed to Geoff, who held me wordlessly. I whispered in his ear

“What happened here?”

“I decked the fucker”

I just held my man. Marc was talking to the two flics, and one of them chuckled as I caught the words “Crime passionel” A man in a suit turned up, and after listening to Marc and the copper, he spoke to Lebel. It started quietly, but steadily got more heated. I caught the odd phrase, and the gist seemed to be a rather forceful discussion about lawsuits for indecent assault.

And then Suit reached out to Bleeding Nose and took a laminated pass from his shirt breast, pointed to the outside world and said “Mon bureau, demain, á  neuf heures. Va t’en”

Suit came across as Lebel scuttled away.

“Miss Jones, is it? I wish to extend our apologies for my employee’s totally unacceptable behaviour. There is no excuse I can properly offer, beyond my hope that you can understand that he is not typical of my staff, and it is likely that he will no longer be working here after the inquiry I intend to hold”

He looked across at the harpy, and I got the feeling that Lebel wasn’t the only one with storms ahead.

“I have also spoken to the police and they understand that your husband only punched him to protect you from an assault, so no charges are to be brought against him. C’est vrai, Georges?”
One of the policeman grinned,

 «Il y a deux qui vous protá¨gent, Madame, le bon Dieu, et son droit ! C’était un bon coup, Monsieur !  »

Being France, there was then a round of handshakes, and I noticed Geoff wincing as he did so. It later turned out he had fractured a bone in his hand punching Lebel. We were treated to some coffee and nibbles before our plane left, but by then all I wanted was to be home and in my own bathroom so I could wash off the feel of her hand and the stains I felt had been left on me by his eyes.

The flight was on time for once, and we were soon standing by the baggage belts awaiting our cases. I wandered over to the channels for a word with Donna, whose team were on, and she noticed my red-rimmed eyes.

“What the hell has he done to you, girl?”

I explained that he had done things for me, and not to me, and Donna called over her team to hear the story. There were various obscenities and tightened lips, but when I got to the bit about Geoff decking the security team leader there was a quiet cheer. Donna looked up at the board.

“You’ve got a belt, and fancy a beer tomorrow night? Litten Tree at seven? You’ll be starved of curry after a week in Frogland”

We quickly agreed the time and place, and I trotted off back to Geoff to get the cases.

When we came back to the Blue Channel we found the team lined up, giving Geoff a round of applause as we passed through.

The world is full of wonderful people, but all too often you don’t realise it until the bad ones make you see.

* “Boss! He says he’s a tranny ! What should I do?”
“He’ll have to be searched.”
“Get undressed (very rude form of address)”
“Alain, stop. Do you really think that this one (female sense) is a tranny? Nor a terrorist, no, I’d say. Leave her in peace, you know what a bitch Helen is, and Lebel is no more than a whoreson, and the most important thing, this search is illegal. For fuck’s sake [lit: whore from a shit brothel] leave the lady alone!”
“Crime of passion”
“My office, tomorrow at nine. Get out”
“You have two looking after you madam, the Good Lord, and his right hand. That was a good punch, sir!”