For The Love Of Chéri (CHAPTERS 1-112 REWRITTEN)

Chapter 17 : Enter, Marcel L'Estrange - Bon Vivant Et Raconteur & A Little Cat

Their plane touched down In El Prat, Barcelona. As soon as the plane door opened they were all hit with a blast of heat, from the outside. It was strange that it was still warm at this time of year, but it was nice that there was no torrential rain like in England.

Lennon undid the front of his worn flannel shirt. He now felt overdressed in this heat as he was wearing loose and distressed black jeans, and a thick grey-checked flannel shirt with DC trainers. Chéri was more dressed for the occasion in his French knickerbockers, high necked loose blouse and super skinny waistcoat. He also knew he had to be presentable for his mother.

"I think we should rent a car, it would be easier getting around and seeing things." Lennon suggested as they started to walk down the long corridors towards the baggage reclaim area.

"Nah! Staff will take us around. Unless you want a car so I could take you to a quiet place and we could make out in the back seat." Chéri said.

"Can you drive, darlin'?" Lennon asked.

"I can, but I probably shouldn't."

"Why's that?!"

"Well, I wanted a car for my sixteenth birthday, and my mom got me the car I wanted and a month later, I crashed it. It was a total write off." Chéri said sheepishly.

Lennon looked concerned, "Oh my God! I'm glad you're okay. Though most people have a crash in their first car after passing, I guess."

"Yeah, but this was a Lamborghini Huracán." Chéri confessed.

Lennon's eyes widened, "You wrote off a Lamborghini..?!"

"Yeah, I lost control of it when some wanker in a Ferrari wanted to race at a light. His car was totalled too."

Lennon stopped walking down the airport corridor and turned to Chéri, "You could have been killed! Those cars are built for speed and they accelerate faster than a new driver's reaction time, and racing those things is suicidal!"

"Oh! Thanks, dad! You tell me this now, years after the fact!" Chéri said humorously.

"Don't call me that!" Lennon shot back interrupting him.

"I didn't mean it 'that way', I meant it in that you're always telling me off!" Chéri replied.

"Cause you need it! And I can't even get over the fact that you owned one! You've been in a high-end Luxury car like that and you're hitchhiking off the British M4 and are happy to get into my company's, shitty commercial truck?" Lennon asked.

"Wow, am I totally going to get a bollocking from you now about this?! It's still a sore subject with my mom. She spent two-hundred grand on it."

"Chéri, I don't wanna ask you this..."

"Then don't." Chéri grinned.

Lennon shot him a funny look, "Is your momma, rich?"

"She wouldn't say so." Chéri said.

"That's a problem." Lennon replied as he rubbed his forehead.

"Why?" Chéri asked.

"Well, she's goin' to think that I can't support you myself and that I'm on the make or that I'm a freeloader of some kind." Lennon said.

"No! She knows a freeloader when she sees one and fuck knows, she has a couple of those." Chéri said.

"Listen Chéri. The first order of the day is getting a job out here, on Monday." Lennon said.

"What will you do? Drive?" Chéri asked.

"Nah, I'm jacking in driving. I'd be away from you all the time! I'm a qualified teacher if I can get something or.."