Elodie stood in the kitchen the following morning as she waited for her mother to round up all their guests. Today was market day.

Presuming they would be a few minutes, she had propped herself up on the kitchen counter, dangling her legs over the tiled edge. Her legs were hairy - but the hair was blonde, delicate - deliberate. bold, self aware of its presence. she reached out and touched them in her boredom, delighting in the strange textured feeling - a sort of sensory ecstasy. she began to wish someone else would want to do it for her, that someone were there next to her, someone inquisitive enough that they would choose to stroke the puckish hairs on her leg. someone standing between her legs, their hand wandering, their fingers rumbling over each blemish.

"Good morning Elodie," Dora said as she entered the kitchen, Alexander standing behind her with a grasp on her hip. The sudden appearances startled Elodie and she took a moment to regain her thought.

"How was your rest?"

"Excellent," Dora replied. Alexander tossed a smirk to Elodie. "Aren't you meant to be in school? It's 9 on a Monday morning."

Elodie's mother walked in with Julie by her side.

"I dropped out of school two years ago. It wasn't really sufficient so I teach myself at home."

Dora smiled, seemingly interested.

"That's so admirable! You do seem so very smart for someone who doesn't attend school."

Both girls could sense the confusion of Lara, Julie and Alexander at the sudden unbridled warmth of Dora. 

"We best be going, it gets crowded by ten," interrupted her mother and the jumble filtered out through the front door. The sun shone blissfully above and the day smiled at the entourage. The car twitched as it was opened with a twist of the keys, and the group fumbled inside.

Julie and Lara got into the the front seats. Dora and Alexander shuffled their feet next to each other while Dora got in first, and as Elodie waited for Alexander to follow she rubbed her heels against the breeze and licked her lips, delighting in the smell and taste of the fresh buds.

Elodie clambered in next to him. He was, as expected, taking up part of her seat. As she slammed the door and lent against the window ( away from his rock hard shoulder and muscular arm ) she composed herself to look out in a nonchalant manner. Alexander's knee lurked close to hers, and at times when the car jolted over a bump it would hit her, always gently, as if he had tensed it - deliberately. it rested so idly close the rest of the time. He didn't talk but looked out the window ( her window ) past her face ( or at least she thought ). Occasionally he would turn to look out Dora's window.

Elodie's glancing at the island turned to looking for a brief and honest moment. The island was an exotic burst, and it was tempting at times to try and swallow it all, ingest it, as if it wasn't just a part of a sensory experience but rather a part of her, a strange infection that infuriated Elodie's mind with its natural beauty.

The strip of market and small stalls next to the airport appeared as a flurry of red as they reached the peak of one of the hills. The waves down at St Jean were also visible, crashing,bubbling,spitting. The car rumbled down the steep descent and she felt the pressure of Alexander's shoulder on hers, the murmur of his voice and saliva as he discussed her precious island with Dora.

Turning into the small car park, Lara swerved into a spot. There was a moment of silence as the car stopped, before Elodie slipped out and ran into the crowds, hearing her mother's shouts and choosing to ignore them, knowing she wouldn't be angry. Normally her friends came, although not this early, and so she made her way towards the back, sitting herself down in the roots of a tree, a shaded windy spot, where the air went down her shirt and flowed around her body and across her skin and yet the breeze was not enough to hitch her skirt up around her waist and show off her knickers.

The oranges of the tree had fallen around where she had sat, the offspring of its yearly harvest. She laid one down on her skirt at first, resting her knees, but was interrupted by the sight of a stream of water headed down towards the tree. Her eyes sniffed for the source, and it was easy to see Valerie, the laundress, had emptied her bucket onto the street. It was approaching quickly and before it reached Elodie she sprang up, and snatching a quick decision from her mind she hauled herself up into the orange tree, climbing higher until she could position herself on one of the branches where she could look over the market ( an amusing way to pass time, to observe others in all their peculiar ways ).

It was a flurry of pastels and bright colours. Most of the men wore white, pink or blue blouses and creme shorts, and the women came in all shapes and sizes. They rummaged about, looking through and at each stall. A few younger woman and men carried baskets, she assumed for the wealthier who couldn't be bothered to by fresh fruit themselves. The vendors were adorned in spectacular colours, scarfs and dresses, hats and shoes - hand dyed by Josephine who lived in Gustavia.

The oranges seemed brighter higher in the tree and Elodie decided she wanted one, so outstretching her arm she reached for the juiciest-looking, grabbing it for herself. She gnawed at it with her teeth before working at it with her fingers, not picking out the pieces delicately but rather jamming her hand inside the fruit, grasping onto the mush and pulling out the flesh, then subsequently pushing it into her mouth.

The juice sprayed and dripped, running down from her mouth and all around her arms. It was sticky and nice, rich and sugary. She went further into the rind and scraped for all the flesh she could get out of it before disposing of the carcass. She licked her fingers and wiped away the juice around her lips, neck and bosom.

She looked down at the crowd again, regaining a view of her mother and Julie. They were chatting, it seemed, to Jacob, whomst was the baker. Everyone was rather delightful around there. Two stalls down stood Alexander and Dora, engaged in a conversation with Colette who came down to the market to sell her creations. It was as if Alexander had known her for years as he leaned over her stall with his hand placed dynamically on Dora's hip, a devilishly charming smile strewn across his lips as he laughed with Colette, discussing god knows what. Dora smiled and nodded at one comment. Her hair's shine and glow was visible even up in the dark of the tree.

Elodie noticed her mother slithering through the crowd towards the couple. She patted on Dora's back and took her separate as Alexander continued his conversation with Colette, who's cheeks had become rather blush.

Elodie followed him as he moved on from her stall, his hands deep in his pockets as he wandered along the stalls and past the vendors. He stopped at one of the fruit stalls, scanning the vibrancy. He ran his finger over the produce, glancing deeper into the stall to see the owner working at the back to clean some freshly picked peaches.

She saw the sparkle and smirk pass over his face and felt deep down what he was to do next. He did it so fast and smoothly no one else could have noticed, as if he had before. He moved on, a plum in his hand and one less on the stall. He lifted it to his lips and bit in, a strange skip to his step as if he delighted in taking, taking, taking.

Elodie couldn't stand it.

Jumping straight down with a thud she walked over to Alexander who now stood smugly in the centre of the market, observing, like she had been, the other people.

He noticed her coming and smiled, taking another bit of his plum, sucking at it, and spitting the pit back out onto the ground.

"Elodie. How nice to see you."

His tone oozed with sarcasm.

"Delicious aren't they?" Elodie asked, looking down at the pit on the ground next to him.

"I would have to agree. Such richness to them."

"How much did they cost? I think I might buy one," Elodie asked, her arms crossed defiantly over her breasts.

He shrugged.

"Why don't you get to the point? I know you know," he said, smirking, as if he luxuriated in the fact that she stood uncomfortably, although confidently, in front of him, and in her revelation that her knowledge didn't change anything. "Ah, the fact that you always think you're smarter than everyone else."

"Don't you think it's wrong to take from him? He needs the money."

Elodie tossed a harsh stare at him and Alexander chuckled under his breath, enjoying the sight of her ruffled feathers.

"I doubt one plum will matter." He paused, focusing on a point just behind her head for a moment. "You must have been watching me hard to notice. I was very fast."

Elodie dug her nails into the soles of her shoes, grinding her teeth. The tension was there alright.

"How on earth have you tricked Dora into thinking you are the kindest, most generous person on earth? The poor girl, she's marrying a lie. You disgust m-"

A tap on her shoulder and Elodie span around to see Dora. It was evident by her face that she hadn't heard the conversation. She smiled and waved at Alexander and then lifted a sheet of paper to Elodie's eye level.

"Your mother would like us to buy some things for the pantry. Excuse us," she said to Alexander, whipping Elodie away by the hand.

The two girls aligned themselves as they approached the fruit stall.

Oh sweet coincidence!

"Your mother has written that we must acquire apples, grapes, croissants and a fresh loaf. Is that easy enough?"

Elodie smiled.

"Yes."

She turned to the man who sat at the fruit stall, glancing quickly past the plums before speaking.

"s'il vous plaît puis-je avoir des raisins et des pommes."

The elderly man reached for a paper bag and hand picked the fruit, weighing each one with a drop of his hand.

"Ah Elodie, tu es magnifique aujourd'hui."

"'Merci."

He put the fruit into a bag and passed it over to her, brushing his wrinkled finger against hers. He lifted three fingers on his hand and Dora passed across the money.

The two girls turned and crossed the crowd to reach the baker's stall. Louis stood answering to the customers in front of them. The two girls waited patiently. Dora clicked her heels together and then turned to Elodie, pushing her hairs behind her ear so she could see her properly.

"What were you talking to Alex about?"

Elodie blinked ( eyelash flutter ).

"The market. He seems to like it."

"Who wouldn't?" Elodie laughed with a twinkle of her mother's exuberance.

"Elodie!"

Her eyes twitched at the sound of the shout. She turned to try and find where he was.

"Elliot?"

He jumped towards the crowd towards her before a sudden and jerky gesture for her to follow him. Elodie turned to Dora.

"I'm sorry is it alright if I pop off for a moment? You can buy this stuff yourself."

There was a look of worry in Dora's eyes.

"But i don't know a word of French."

Elodie had already started to prance towards Elliot with a grin over her face.

"You'll be fine!" she shouted back before disappearing deep into the crowd and reemerging on the other side where Elliot waited for her.

As soon as she appeared he grabbed her, spinning her into his arms and lifting her off her feet. He put her down and ran a little further, where a sparse line of trees separated them from the market, where they couldn't be seen, or at least not by the people who took no interest in Elodie.

But there were people who took enough interest to watch her through the trees, only quick glances, although intrigued ones. there was one glance which lingered, devouring, gently, the scene of her entangled in another human, the sight of her skirt just above her waist, thighs exposed. a strange, hungry, passive glance.