Introduction

Little Amy Thompson was not a happy eleven-year-old. It seemed that her father had lied to her again. Let me explain.

Amy's parents had divorced four years previously. Not because they were incompatible, or out of love, or because of any of the other normal reasons a couple would divorce for today. Instead, they divorced, because her father, Frank, was offered a huge promotion at his work, an architectural office, and his wife, Helen, refused to move across the state so that he could accept the position. So he divorced her. Simple as that.

Except that young Amy, then aged seven, was thrown right in the middle of it. Now, instead of one happy home, she had 2, in different parts of Ohio. Life with her mother, was pretty stable, when compared to before the divorce. She still saw a lot of her, even though her mom was also pretty busy, as a nursing manager of a local hospital.

Her father on the other hand, was a different story. According to the terms of the divorce settlement, Amy was required to spend one weekend a month with him. Except he was so busy with work, that he usually hired a neighbor's high school aged daughter to watch her, while ignoring her himself, for the whole weekend.

The same happened every summer. Two whole weeks together, and they probably spent less that 20 hours of quality time together.

Yet this summer was supposed to be different. This summer, she was supposed to travel to a luxury resort, in the French Riviera, just herself, and her daddy. Twelve days of just the two of them, frolicking on the beach, shopping, movies, shows, shopping, touring. Real time together. At least that was what she thought. 
Reality was completely different, because. . . 

This spring, Frank had been given a huge assignment at work. The design for a large addition to a major Posh French beach resort. A promotion and bonus would follow if he landed the contract. Another promotion and a huge pay raise to go along with it. Plus bonus' if the project, which he would personally oversee for his employer finished according to the contract.

That meant that on the first-class flight to Paris, Amy was left to entertain herself, while Frank reviewed his initial presentation. Thank God for her IPOD.

The two days in Paris were the same. She was stuck in the hotel, with a provided "chaperone", aka known as a babysitter, while her father attended several financing meetings. A last-minute meeting on Friday, then the Friday evening train ride to Toulon, was more of the same. Amy reading, or staring out the window at the passing French countryside, while her father stood in their train compartment rehearsing his presentation. Only a quick dinner in the dining car to break the monotony.

She did insist upon sitting on his lap, for the "limo" ride from the Toulon train station, to their hotel. Since the car was quite full with their personal luggage, and the materials he needed for his meetings and his work, there really was no choice in the matter. Every square inch of space was taken up with his work. And since it was almost midnight, local time, when they arrived at the Toulon Station, there really was no choice. It was the only ride available to their hotel.

They arrived at the hotel around 1:00 am, Saturday night, Sunday morning, and the hotel night-staff was very helpful. Amy was asleep, and couldn't be woken up upon their arrival. Leaving her in the Car, Frank checked in at the front desk, while the bellhops loaded all their belongings onto small carts. He returned to the car, picked his daughter up, and with the hops leading the way, proceeded to the elevator, then to their suite.

Being pointed to the smaller of the suite's two bedrooms, he carried Amy to the bed, and deposited her gently. Turning to the hops, he then provided a handsome tip, and asked them to carefully place all their luggage in the corner of the suite's sitting room, and his architectural materials in the corner of his bedroom.

After they left, he returned to his daughter's room, and staring at her, he marveled at her innocence. Realizing that he had no wish to try to find her a nightgown in the mess that was their baggage, he ignored the entire idea, and simply removed her shoes, socks and sundress. As he undressed his daughter, he slid her over to the side of the bed. Frank let down the bed. He lifted his daughter, carried her around the bed, and laid her down, clothed only in panties and an under-vest, and covered her up, tucking her in snugly. He turned out the light, and proceeded to his own room where he undressed, showered, and went to bed himself.
Day 1 Sunday

Given that their two days in Paris were insufficient to overcome their jetlag, both slept in "late" the next morning. As it was Sunday, no one cared. At eleven, Frank awoke, and rising from his bed, he completed his morning routine. Wearing only his boxers, he left his room and headed for the luggage by the front door. He found his main bag, and carried it into his bedroom, setting it on the dresser. Fumbling inside, he found his toiletries bag, and was able to finish his morning grooming.

He then dug into his bag, pulled out a casual outfit, and dressed. Entering the main sitting room again, he picked up the phone and inquired from the operator the dining room schedule. He then went to his daughter's door, and opened it slightly, not looking in, but listening to see if his daughter was still asleep. Her steady breathing told him she was still out, so he closed her door, and sat down in a comfortable chair with the remote. If she did not awaken by noon, he would wake her, and they should still have time to hit the Sunday brunch buffet. Meanwhile, he would see if he could find something interesting on the television. Work could wait until after lunch.

Amy awoke a little after eleven thirty. She opened her eyes, and when they had become accustomed to the light, she looked around at her surroundings, despite a need to pee. Not recognizing where she was, she climbed out of bed. She looked down at herself, and saw that she was in her underwear. She looked around, trying to find her clothes. They weren't there, her father having taken them out with him the night before.

She turned around again, searching for doors. Noticing three, she ignored the largest two, and hoped that the smallest would be a bathroom. It was. With great relief, she peed, and after washing her hands, she noticed that there, hanging off a hook on the door, was a bathrobe. Gratefully, she put it on noticing that it was not an adult's robe, but a child`s, and only slightly larger that what she needed. Big and soft and comfy, she fell in love with it as she slipped it on, and then, leaving the bathroom, she went to a double door, that she hoped would lead to her father.

Unfortunately, this door, was the entrance to a rather large closet. She closed the door, and went to the third. Opening it, she found herself staring into another room, and there sitting on a chair, was her father, reading a paper that he had earlier remembered would be waiting outside his door, every morning.

"Daddy."

"Yes Pumpkin?"

"So are we here?"

"Yes."

"What time did we get here?"

"Around one am. Would you like some breakfast?'

"Yes!" She jumped a little as she said this, only now realizing that the novelty of her surroundings, and the relief of finding a bathroom, had masked a ravenous hunger, that only showed itself at the mentioning of the word "BREAKFAST"!!

"Ok. Hurry up, and shower and we'll head downstairs to the restaurant."

"Daddy, where's my bags?"

"Over there in the corner."

"Daddy?"

"Yes pumpkin?" He knew what she would be wanting.

"They're kind of heavy. Could you bring them into my room?"

"Go start your shower. I'll bring them in as soon as I've finished this article."

"OK." She skips back to her room, and enters the bathroom. Regretfully, she slides out of her robe. She removes her underwear. She heads to the shower, and turns on the flow of water, waiting, adjusting the flow until it reached the "perfect" temperature.

After shutting off the water, she reached her hand towards a bar that held several large towels. Taking one, she proceeded to dry off her little pre-pubescent body. Letting the first towel fall to the floor, she reached for a second small towel, wrapped it around her hair, then bent over to pick up and put on the robe that she had previously worn.

Walking out of the bathroom, closing the robe around her body, she had only just covered herself, and started to tie the sash, when she noticed her father turning around to face her, having just placed her last suitcase on the floor, at the foot of her bed.

"Sorry sweetie. It was a long article."

"That's ok daddy. When's breakfast?"

"You mean lunch." He pointed to an ornate clock sitting atop a television in the corner of her room. Showing 12:15, he continued, "We need to be downstairs in another 15 minutes."

"Ok. I'll be ready in five." Although he didn't believe it, she was serious. With him leaving the room, she immediately dove towards a smaller bag, laying it on it's side, she opened it, and pulled out a pair of panties and some matching socks. Donning them, she then went to a second bag, where she pulled out a light-blue sundress, she liked sundresses. With that on, she dove into a third bag and removed a simple pair of sandals. Carrying them with her, she headed back to the sitting room, also carrying a comb.

"Daddy, would you do my hair while I put on my shoes?"

He didn't say anything. He was in too much of a shock realizing that she was almost ready, and only in 5 or so minutes. So he simply reached out and took the proffered brush, and started to remove the tangles from her hair.

In only another 5 minutes, both were finished, so Amy stood up, and holding out her hand for her father to grasp, they headed to the door, and went to the main hotel dining room for brunch.

"Breakfast was not normally a long affair. Both usually ate only a light one. But since neither had much more than a snack for dinner last night, and it was after noon, both were famished. The smell of the food awaiting them awoke a hunger in both that would take a while to satisfy. Bacon, eggs, toast, French toast, waffles, fruit, pastry, croissant, they sampled everything. When they had both eaten their fill, it was only then that they bothered having a real conversation.

"So what are we doing today daddy?"

"I have work to do. So I suppose I should see when the au-pair I had requested is available."

"Daddy, don't you think I'm a little old for a babysitter?"

"You're only eleven."

"Almost twelve!"

"But not for another five-six months. And we're in a completely foreign country. You need someone local to make sure you're properly taken care of."

"But daddy. I thought"

Frank cuts his daughter off, knowing where this was heading. "My mind is made up. The hotel has arranged for a girl to be with you and that is that."

"But Daddy"

"If you ever want to leave this room . . ."

"OK." So here she was. Thoroughly unhappy. Amy and Frank headed down to the lobby, to inquire about Amy's au-pair. Unfortunately, things at the desk, were not nearly as efficient.

"What do you mean?" Frank was not happy himself. It seems that the desk clerk was having difficulty in telling him that the hotel was not able to find a local girl to take on the position, that none could be brought in, since she would have to be housed on-premises, and the hotel was booked full as is, and none of the regular staff was available to do the job for the whole of their stay.

In short, Amy was in danger of being stuck in her hotel room, for ten days. Although she would have liked to spend any time with her father, she knew it would be pointless sitting around all day, staring at him as he worked on his architectural drawings.

"Daddy?"

"What Pumpkin?"

"I don't have an au-pair?"

"No sweetie. The hotel had `problems'."

"But daddy, does that mean I'm stuck?"

"I don't know."

""I don't want to spend ten days in my room! I won't have anything to do!"

"I'm sure we can come to some arrangement. Let's go to our suite and discuss it."

Now Amy was no fool. She was in a position of `moral right'. As long as they were in public, she had an upper hand. One thing she knew of her father was that he abhorred public scenes. As long as they stayed downstairs, and if she remained calm, and logical, she knew that she would win. "Let's just sit down over there." pointing at a pair of chairs in a corner of the large, spacious lobby.

"I want to discuss this upstairs." Frank stated firmly.

"I think we can settle this quicker of we start right now, over there." pointing back to `her' chairs.
Frank knew he was beaten. Either his daughter would throw a tantrum in the lobby over not wanting to go back to the room, or he could `force' her into a tantrum over whether she would be allowed to leave the suite unattended. Either way, he would lose publicly. He had no choice but to actually discuss this, impartially. 

Admitting defeat on the seating issue, he heads over to the chairs, motioning his daughter to follow. When seated, "So what do you have in mind?"

"I don't know. I just don't want to be stuck inside all day."

"I do have to work you know."

"I know that you never told mom when arranging this little trip that you had to work." Kid one, dad zero. 

"So let's be reasonable about this. Morning and evenings are out of the question. But I suppose, a few hours in the afternoon. If I have some idea of what you were doing."

Instantly, Amy began to brighten. Hours of freedom in the afternoon! This was better than she had hoped for in an opening proposal. And almost what she had expected to get in the end. But she couldn't agree, that quickly. "That sounds good. But I would expect to be able to eat with you. And maybe one or two evenings out."

"Meals we can play by ear. Breakfast, probably. If you actually get up at a reasonable time in the mornings. Lunch and dinner? But I will promise one meal eaten together, every day. NEGOTIATED DAILY."

"Agreed. Subject to further negotiations later."

"Agreed." With that Frank put out his hand. His daughter accepted it.

"So I can do what I want to in the afternoon." A statement of fact, not a question.

"Yes and no. You have to let me know what you have planned. And you have to let me know when things change."

"How? You may be in a meeting, and I won't know where to find you?"

"I have an idea. I have to pick up some drafting supplies that I forgot. I'll come up with something."

"Shopping?"

"Yes."

"Can I come with you?"

""Quality time,, or you just like shopping?" He knew that that question would hit home."

"A little bit of both." was delivered with a blushed face. She knew she had basically won. But she'd risk losing ground if this continued.

"Well, I'll be leaving in about 20 minutes. If you want to come, that shouldn't be much of a problem." A smile lights up the child's face. "Are you planning on buying anything? Or just going through the motions?"

"I don't know. I've never shopped in a foreign country before. Do dollars work here?"

Laughing, Frank realizes that the child is in earnest. Pulling out his wallet, he asks, "Do you have any money with you?" Knowing full well, that he would have to be doing this anyway, so the child could have some "pocket money."

Now like I said, Amy was no fool. Her mother had given her 5 $20 bills as "spending money" the night before her father picked her up. But one could never have enough when shopping? Could one? "Mom gave me $40 before I left. For emergencies!"

"No problem." Frank stood up and motioning his daughter to follow, headed to the hotel's concierge desk.

"Excuse me sir, would you know where I could exchange some money into Euros?"

"How much and in what specie? Sir."

"American dollars, and whatever will get me 200 euros."

""Will that be cash, room debit, or separate credit card billing? Mind sir that many American card companies do not charge a conversion fee, so direct billing would probably be best?"

Frank reaches into his wallet and pulls out a card. Handing it over, asks, "What about these crooks?"

"No problem sir. ******** does not charge a conversion fee. Would you like cash sir, or a prepaid card"

Frank thinks a moment. Realizing that some cash is a good thing for incidental expenses, and also realizing the child would have problems with the local coinage, opted for convenience. "150 euros on a card, the rest in cash please."

"That will take about half an hour, sir. If you would just sign this authorization, we can have it ready as quickly as possible."

"No problem. I was headed upstairs to change. Would you happen to have a directory, of local shopping?"

"Anything in particular,? Sir. Or just ordinary tourism purchases?"

"I need some art drafting supplies. Something with consumer electronics. And the kid here probably wants some clothing." He smiles down at his daughter, as she looks up at both men, nodding her agreement.

"Nothing touristy, just stuff like local kids would wear." she responded, in agreement with her father.

"No problem sir. I can have a specially printed listing for each of you when you return for your funds."

"That should be fine. Just one other thing. Are these shops here, and are they open on Sunday?"

"I'll put each list on separate pages listing what's open today, and what's not. Also, most shops in town open on Sunday from 2 to 7."

"Excellent. Thanks for the assist. Come dear." he reaches his hand down for his daughter's she grasps his hand, and as she is led towards the elevator, she turns around, waves, and whispers a thank you to the Concierge.

"Charming child." He mutters to himself as they walk away. He immediately puts in the request to the hotel's financing office for the card, and the Euros. He then begins to prepare the promised for listing of local shopping.

In the elevator, Amy is excited. Daddy is going to give her 50 euros. Not knowing about the concept of fluctuating currency values, she assumes that they are the same as U.S. dollars. Fifty bucks can go a long way, shopping for clothes.

Waiting in the room for her father to change is an eternity. Anxious to get going, she watches the clock religiously. She knows that Frank is in his bathroom, enjoying a shower. Ten minutes before they were expected back in the lobby, she pesters her father.

"Daddy, it's almost 2:30. We can go pick up the money now!"

"Let me get dressed. I'll be out in 5!"


Frank and Amy have visited the concierge, and picked up their money, and shopping guides. Not trusting his daughter's sense of responsibility, Frank held onto the funds. Heading out the hotel's front door, the concierge had also arranged a cab for them Showing their lists to the driver, a decision is made to take them to a small shopping district, where they would be able to visit different stores for all their needs. They settled back for the 10 minute ride, following a Mediterranean coastal highway.

Being dropped off in town, they proceeded into a traffic-free shopping district. Looking at their maps, Frank noticed that there was a children's clothing boutique on the way to his stationary store. As they approached it, Frank stopped suddenly, "Sweetheart, does this look like it will be satisfactory?"

Amy looked at the store's front edifice. A single door stood in between two large display windows. Just like back home, child-sized mannequins sported a sample of the selection available inside. Dresses. Swimwear. Shorts outfits. Shoes. Accessories. Just about anything. 

"Yeah. It should be ok."

"Good. I think I'll leave you here. I'm just going down the street to the stationers. I should be back in about an hour. Will that be enough?"

"Plenty." Then she came to a realization. "Um, daddy?"

"Yes sweetheart?"

"You promised me some money?" The pleading look into his eyes were unmistakable. 

Now Frank did feel a little bad about how things had come about. He realized that his daughter, or his wife for that matter, were never told about the working aspects of the trip. In fact, he originally had never intended to bring her along, it was just that this time was more convenient for his ex wife. In other words, when they got back the kid was heading to summer camp, and the trip fell smack in the middle of the only time she would have been home from school, and needing of supervision.

"Yes. How, um, stupid of me. Here." With this, he reached into his wallet, and pulled out the prepaid card he had gotten from the Hotel. "Will 150 be enough?" He smiles as he says this, "At least for the time being?"

"Thank you daddy!" This as she is holding the card, and hugging her father. Kissing him on the cheek, she heads for the storefront door.

Amy let out a small gasp of excitement, as she opened the door. It was the kind of store you simply would never see again back in America. Although the center was filled with rack upon rack of clothes, the walls, the floor, the smell all led to a sense of wonder. This was easily explained when the store's owner appeared from the back room, summoned by the little high-pitched jingling of a small brass bell, attached to the front door.

"Bonjour!" she said, in a slightly grandmotherly voice and tone.

"Um. Hello?"

"Anglais? Eeenglissh?"

"Excuse me?" Amy didn't know how to respond to question she didn't understand.

"No! I think," a slight pause, "American? Oui?"

"U.S?" A nod in response. "Yes. I'm American."

"Bon. Now that we have that settled, how can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a dress. Maybe even a new swimsuit if I can afford it."

"A oui. Yes. I can help you with both. Tenue de crmonie or robe dcontracte?"

"I'm sorry. I don't understand."

"I'm sorry. I forgot you only speak English. How do you say, fancy dress, or everyday?"

"Do you mean formal or casual dress?'

"Oui. Formal or casual dress?"

"Um. I'm looking for something nice to wear for dinner at the Hotel Le Rocher."

"The main dining room?"

"Yes."

"I think I have, how do you say? `Just the thing!' Let me look at you. Turn around please."

Amy complies with the request, making a slow turn of her body.

"How many are you?"

"I think it's just me?"

"No. NO. No. I mean how many ans?'

"Ans?"

"Age. Oui! Yes. What is your age?"

"I'm eleven. I'll be twelve in November."

"A yes. I think I have just the thing. Perfect for the Hotel." with that she heads over to a far wall. A large storage cupboard. She returns a moment later, triumphantly displaying her selection.

Amy thought it was the most gorgeous dress she'd ever seen. A light shade of blue, with little silver threads, woven into the fabric below the bust, and around the lower hem. More important, it was strapless, with a band of elastic around the chest and waist. A silver colored ribbon was attached around the waist, tied in a small bow at the left hip.

She reached out to touch it, as if even thinking of such a liberty was un-allowed. She was mildly surprised when the matron let her have it. The feel of the material was soft and silky. That was explained when she looked at the dress' tag. Silk!

"Can I try it on?" she asked pleading with her eyes.

"Through there." the matron pointing to a curtain set into the back wall.

Amy entered the changing room, surprised that it was nothing like the ones in America. It was simply a room, about twelve to fourteen feet a side. No partitions. Simply a number of benches both spread out in the center of the room, with a few along the walls. Also, along the back wall, in each corner, was a triple mirror set up.

"What happens if more than one person needs to change?" Amy asked herself. Then she realized the answer. It was a children's clothing store. The adults really didn't care about modesty. Boys and girls would strip down and try on clothes in front of their mothers, and in front of everyone else, for that matter.

Amy was certainly glad that the shop was dead that day, as she reluctantly began removing her summer dress. She made a point of listening for the jingle of the front doorbell, as she hurried to try on her dress. When she was finished, she headed over to the triple mirror, and looked at herself. She liked what she saw. The dress fit perfectly. But unsure of herself, to make such an important decision, Amy headed for the curtain. She was grateful when she discovered the matron on the other side patiently waiting for her.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"I believe," a slight pause, "that with the right ribbon for your hair, and maybe a little pearl pendant around your neck, and you will be the most beautiful girl in the whole dining room."

Amy knew the dress was perfect. But she had forgotten about accents. She just smiled. Now she had to ask the painful question. "How much?"

"The matron walked over her, and although she already knew the answer, she made a point of checking the card. Now the dress was normally 120 euros, but it only cost 75 from her supplier. And the dress looked so perfect on her, she made an instant decision. "Let's see. With tax, about 98 euros."

The cost almost caused Amy to go into shock. Never in her young life had she spent so much on a single dress. Not even when her mother was paying. But the dress was perfect. And it was a special occasion. And her father was paying, wasn't he?

"Ok. I'll take it."

"Excellent. I was hoping you would say that. It is almost as if the dress was originally designed, just for you!"

"Really?'

"Yes. Really. And now I believe you also mentioned that you need a new bikini?"

In the excitement over the dress Amy had completely forgotten the new bathing suit. The woman had specifically said `bikini'. Amy wasn't used to wearing them in public. Yes, she'd had one each summer for the last couple of years, but she only wore it in the back yard, usually alone. Maybe when sunning with a close friend from the neighborhood, or school. But never with a boy around. Could she wear one on a public beach?

Still wearing her dress, she was led over to another rack. Moving to one specific side, she found herself facing two steel bars, one above the other, with dozens of hangers, each with a brand new bikini swimsuit attached.

"Do you have any tank suits?" Amy asked.

"Tank suits?"

"One-piece? From here," pointing to her crotch, "to here?" pointing to her chest.

"No. I'm sorry. There just isn't a need for them around here."

"So everybody wears bikinis?"

"Well, not the boys." both laugh at that, and then she continues, "and not all the girls

"What do you mean?"

"Well, many of the girls just wear a bikini bottom." She reaches over and grabs a hanger, containing just what she had mentioned. A string bikini bottom. Pink with a yellow bow on the waist. And yes, no top.

"I don't think I could wear that. Not without a top piece."

"It's not a problem. Many of my bikini's have tops. Let's see what we can find."

With that statement, the matron starts combing through the rack. Amy chucks in as well. The matron shows off selection after selection. Each is rejected, until, when Amy had refused almost an entire bar off the rack, she spotted the perfect bikini. Yellow, string, with a t-shirt type top. And featuring the face of, yes, you guessed it, Spongebob.

Amy's selection signified that although she was trying to be treated, like the woman she felt herself becoming, there was still a kernel of little girl still present. 

"Adorable!" a comment designed to make the sale, and not to display an actual emotion. "But bikini's are two for one today. So let ME select you another!" With that she herself dives back into the rack. In truth, if you purchased a Spongebob swimsuit, another bikini was free every day. 

She had a problem ever since word got out that she inventoried those damn bikinis. It seemed that they were all that the girls wanted. Leaving her stuck with a huge overstock of unwanted swimsuits. So using sound business practices, she had jacked up the price of the Spongebob suits by the average of her cost of the other suits, and gave one away every time she sold one. In this way she had managed to unload about half of her selection.

While Amy didn't know any of this, she was holding the sponge up to her body imagining what it would look like on her. Impatiently waiting for the woman to make a selection. Inside of a couple of minutes, she came up in triumph again. This time holding a hanger containing a cute little black two piece. "Here, take this too, and try them both on."

"Ok." Amy heads into the changing room. Carefully removing her new dress, she sets it aside.. Stripping off her panties, she put on Spongebob. It was a cute little suit, with a picture of the sponge's face on the back. The top resembled a T-shirt. Yellow, of course, with light blue trim. Low cut in the back, and featuring the sponge's face, with a goofy grin on the front. She just thought it was cute.

Removing Spongebob, she picked up the black suit, removed it from the hanger, and realized that she had a problem.

Although the top was again no problem, two black triangles, smaller than on the other suit, but still capable of adequately covering what she really didn't have, the bottom was a complete mystery.

IT, consisted of two triangles of cloth, connecting through the crotch, with a single, long tie that started on the one side, that would completely loop around her body, holding the two pieces to her, and then the two ends of the single string being tied on one hip. But which hip. Which was the front, and which was the back. She stood there, examining it carefully. Either way, whichever way she chose to put it on, the front would be ok. She was worried about how well it would cover her in the back.

"Not very well, no matter what I do. But still it is nice. Could I wear it in public, or only at home?"

That question was immaterial. She took a closer look, and realized that one of the two triangles had a small tag hidden on the inside. Guessing that this was the back side, she made up her mind to try it on with the tie being on her right hip. This she does, and then looks at herself in the mirror.

She looked fabulous. She also realized that she had guessed correctly. Looking at herself in the rear, she saw that it only covered about half of her butt, yet the front was perfectly covered. In fact, that once it was tied on, the strings were riding high on her hips, then descending around the curve of her stomach, lowering in a smooth sweep until it passed under her naval, at which it began to swing back up. If she had tried it on the other way around it would have showed off as much of the sides of each cheek, and also a nice length of her butt crack. Meanwhile, with it in front, it played on the curvature of her body, perfectly, following perfectly the roundness of her abdominal muscles, framing them exactly.

She thought that she had guessed right, but she wasn't perfectly sure, so summoning up her courage, she walked out of the dressing room. She carried her evening dress with her and handed it over.

"I'll take the dress, and the Spongebob bikini, but I'm not so sure about this bikini?"

"What is your concern?"

"It looks nice, and I think I look good in it, it's just, well"

"Yes?"

"Do I have it on right?"

"Turn around."

Amy did so, and she didn't wince as she felt the matron's fingers feeling around the openings of her legs. "Yes. There. You have it on correctly."

"How can you tell?"

"The tag is in the rear."

"But it really doesn't cover, very well. Back there?" Amy couldn't believe that this was a child's suit.

"No you have it on perfect. That is just the trim of the suit!"

"Do you want it? I could always select another. It would only take a minute."

"No. Except for the rear, I like the suit. Is this really what kids wear over here?"

"Like I said, they often wear less."

"I'll take `em. How much for the set?"

"Those two suits are another 35 euros." She smiled as she said this. The suit she had selected had been hanging on the rack for almost three years now. She had almost reached the point where she despaired of ever selling it. She was even considering giving it to one of her own granddaughters, except that she knew what her daughters (in-law) felt about such things.

"So my bill is how much?"

"I'll knock a little off because the dress was maid for you. It should be 133 euros, but I'll accept 130."

"130!" Amy was a little put out. "About how much would that be in American money?"

"Dollars? Just over 100."

"100 for a nice dress and two bikinis. Can I go change before you ring me up?"

"That would be acceptable." The sheer innocence of the question amused her. Did the child honestly think she would allow her to leave the store dressed in only a flimsy bikini. It may be suitable attire for the beach, but not for the shopping district.

Amy went back into the changing room, and was just putting her panties on, when she heard the brass bell on the front door ring. She recognized who was entering, immediately.'

"Excuse me miss, is my daughter still here? Blonde, about this high?" He held his hand up in front of him, about six inches lower that his daughter's actual height.

She had just finished boxing up the dress as he entered. "A dress and bikini's?"

"Possibly?"

"She'll be out in a minute. Were almost finished. How do you say in America, I'm just adding her up now?"

"Ringing her up?"

"Yes. Ringing her up. We should be done in five minutes or so."

Amy hurriedly put on her panties and her summer dress. She's grateful that he didn't get here until she was back in the changing room. Would she be embarrassed if her father saw her in "that" bikini, or did she just not want to get into an argument with him over her being allowed to buy it. Taking a moment, she checks that her hair is ok, before she looks into her pocket to see if she still has the card. Holding it in her palm, she heads towards the sales desk." She looks over and see's her father standing. Waiting patiently. A rather large, bag sitting on the floor next to him.

"Hi daddy! When did you get here?"

"Not soon enough by the looks of it."

"Daddy!"

"How much did we spend?"

"Not much the bikini's were two for the price of one."

"How much?"

Trying to fake him out, she said "Fifteen." but failed to mention that that was for each suit, not combined.

"And the dress?"

"Dress?"

"The one I saw her place in the box, she just slipped your new suit into."

"Oh. That one." She knew she was caught. Dare she tell him?"

"It was a summer clearance item. Very reasonable. Only 90 euros." The matron chimed in. Amy winced as she spoke, not knowing if her interference helped or hurt her.

Frank knew that this store was going to cost him, and was only putting on a show. "I want to see you in it when we get back to the hotel. If it isn't one hell of a dress, I'm sending you right back to return it, young lady."

"Amy winced as he spoke. The matron looked shocked that a father could address his daughter in such a harsh manner No less over something as trivial as the price of an evening dress! The matron immediately decided to complete the transaction as quickly as possible, if only to get Frank out of her store. Holding her hand out towards him, "Your card sir?" with the sternest face she could muster. All smiles now gone.

Frank motioned towards his daughter, "She has it."

"Amy proudly handed the card over. The matron ran it through the reader, and when it was approved, she tore off the receipt, pairing it with a pen, held them both up to see who would move to sign it.

"Go ahead sweety, it's your money." Smiling as he said this.

Instantly the matron's smile made a brief reappearance. Had he been joking with his daughter about bringing the dress back?

Amy steps forward and proudly signs the slip. The matron tears her credit receipt from the reader, and hands it back to the child, along with her card. Frank collects his bag and they head for the door. As they exit the store, Amy looks back at the kindly old woman and smiles.

They walk back towards the entrance to the shopping area. A few blocks further down main street, they enter a second, this time it's in search of an electronics store. The whole time, Amy, still not sure if she'll get to keep her dress makes it the sole subject of conversation.

Turning into another side street, similar to the one with her dress shop. In front of a store that sells small appliances and other smaller consumer goods, he puts a halt to her chattering about the dress.

"Now we come to the important business. I want to be able to find out where you are, at any time."

They head into the shop. Walking around, Amy has no idea of what he has in mind. It is only in front of display of prepaid cell phones that he stops, and starts to seriously examine the merchandise.

Talking to his daughter in English, a clerk walks over to help, but instantly retreats when he hears them talking. He approaches a coworker, and relays a request. The second clerk approaches.

"Excuse me?" asked in English. "Can I assist you?"

"You speak English?"

"Yes, I spent a summer working in Canada right after graduating from what you would consider high-school."

"Good. That should make things easier. What can you tell me about these?" pointing to the phone display.

"There follows a ten minute conversation in which the various virtues of several popular models are discussed In a short time, a partial decision is reached. Several models are placed on the counter. Amy is instructed to select one. Choosing a purple one, that looks inexpensive. Her father takes a stylish finished one.

"Now these are prepaid phones?"

"Yes."

"And I can purchase additional time from anywhere?'

"Even though they only work anywhere in western Europe, you can purchase more time from their website. It's all in the instruction manuals. All you have to do is make sure you don't let your phone expire, but that shouldn't be a problem. They will e-mail your phone status. Just follow their directions."

"Frank purchased the two phones, and minute cards for each. While he did so, Amy had a question.

"If it only works here, can I still call anywhere?"

"Back to the states?" Frank winced as he asked this, wondering if she'd be calling her friends.

"Mom did want me to call her."

"You can only call out from over here. But the instructions will tell you what foreign countries you can call, and how to do it. It will also tell how others can call you from back home as well."

"Thanks." Frank muttered. "Now she'll be calling everybody she knows." a little more quietly. The clerk heard all and was amused.

"I'm sure that the child will show discretion."

"Really, you didn't see how much of my money she just blew on a dress." He picked up the bags, added them to his bag, and they exit the store. 

Standing by the main road, Amy is hopping excitedly. Two new swimsuits, a fancy dress, and a cell phone. All in one day!

Yeah the phone was only good in France, but that didn't mean anything did it. Could she use this as an excuse to get a real one when they got back home?

Another cab ride, and they were back at the hotel. Returning to their suite, Frank drops his packages on a easy chair. "Ok young lady, lets see that dress."

"Amy puts her box on the coffee table. Carefully removing the lid, she hurriedly slides the bikinis out of the way, as she reaches for the dress. Holding it up in front of her, she tries to show her father what it really looks like.

"Do you like it?"

"I think I need to see it on you."

With that, he sits down in his chair and reaches for the phone bag. While he starts reading the instruction booklet, thankfully there is a large section in English, as well as French, Spanish, German, Dutch, Scandinavian, Italian, Greek, and what he thought was Portuguese.

Amy takes the whole of her purchase back to her room. Hiding her bikinis in a bottom drawer, she undresses, and slips into the dress. She leaves the bedroom, and not saying anything, she simply rests her head on the back of her father's chair. 

It takes him several minutes to notice that she has returned. He has almost figured out how to put the batteries in. He looks at his daughter.

"Step back. Let me get a good look at you."

Amy circles around to the side of his chair, stepping backwards as she does so. Without any instruction, she twirls her body, showing off the dress.

"So? What do you think?"

"The only thing wrong with it, is were should I take you, and did I pack anything fancy enough?"

"Amy knew then and there that the dress was hers to keep. Running to her father, she hugs him. He reacts by almost dropping the phone he was holding. Catching it in time, he asks:

"Do you have the right shoes, and um, other items to go along with it?"

"Other items?"

"Socks. Underwear?"

"Underwear? Daddy."

"You know, bras and stuff."

"Yeah I'm good. I have some sandals that should go perfect with it!"

"And your hair?"

"I have a nice beret that should work well."

"So everything is good to go?"

"Yes daddy. Can I change now?"

"I suppose so. We don't want anything to happen to it before dinner tomorrow."

"Dinner? Tomorrow?"

"If you promise to behave yourself, I have a business dinner tomorrow night. I see no reason why I shouldn't bring you along. Besides, you look so beautiful, you might distract them enough for me to win a point or two on the contract!"

"Daddeeeee!"

"Go, I have to figure these damn things out."

"I'll help you after I've changed." Within minutes, her dress is hung up in the closet, she's back in her summer dress, and she is sitting Indian style on the floor, reading the phone instructions.

Now Frank is a brilliant architect, but electronics are a completely different matter. When he was his daughter's age, the height of technology was the commodore computer. It took him months to figure one of them out.

Amy on the other hand, within five minutes, had batteries installed in both phones. They were both plugged into the wall with their chargers, And she was just starting to read about their activation.

Reading the instructions twice, she realized that the easiest way was just to call up the provider, and have them do it. She hurridly ran towards the room's cordless phone picking it up, she grabbed the time-cards and walked towards the phone, dialing as she went.

It only took half an hour with customer support, once she found one that spoke decent English, to activate the two phones. She also had her prepaid card out, and purchased extra time, which she had placed on her phone.

Meanwhile, Frank seeing that the phone situation was in good hands, had started to unpack his art supplies, And was beginning some rough sketches based upon the meetings he'd attended back in Paris.

After finishing with the two phones, Amy, noticing that her father was hard at work, settled into the couch, with one of the books from her school's summer reading list, and her IPOD.

Dinner was a light fare, after which Amy spent time watching television while Frank continued working. Not really speaking the language, she did have some problem following things, but she finally found a movie which didn't seem to be to boring.

Half-way through, she realized that maybe the lady in the shop was right. The movie centered around two kids, both around her age, and the trouble they got into, running around a small French coastal town. In this scene, in the middle of the night, the boy snuck out of his house, to the girls'. She joined him, and they walked around town talking. Eventually they ended up back at her house, where she snuck him into her bedroom. She helped him undress, while she undressed herself. Both nude, they were in her bed, not touching, just talking. Reveling in the intimacy of the situation, that is until her father arrived home.

The boy hid under the bed, as the father came in to kiss his daughter good night. Still nude, she covered herself with a blanket, but did not resist as he lowered it to reveal her bare chest. After a moment, he released it, and she covered herself. After a few more words, he got up to leave, and was almost out the door when he noticed a second coat on the child's coat hook. Assuming the worst, he checked under the bed, and yes, discovered the nude boy hiding. Grabbing him, hauling him out from under the bed despite his resistance, and that of his daughter, he threw the boy to the ground. Both children still screaming, the boy was struggling to put his clothes back on, and flee the scene, all the while the daughter was arguing with her father. 

A latter scene, had the two kids running around town again. This time, they end up in the apartment/studio of a "professional?" photographer. Stripping off their shirts, they pose topless, at first just sitting there, then embracing, and finally kissing, all the while, the photographer is continuing to snap pictures of the two young "lovers". The scene ended, leaving it to the imagination of the viewer, if things went a little more seriously.

In the end, Amy wondered about the film. She was grateful that her father was engrossed in his work. If he'd seen it, he probably would have insisted on changing the channel, and there really was nothing else on. Besides, the film made her think. If this is was was acceptable for television, maybe what she was told about beaches was true? Maybe girls did spend their day at the beach, wearing only bikini bottoms like the nice lady had shown her. But still, Amy doubted that she could do that, even if it was ok.

It was ten o'clock after the movie finished, and Amy decided that she should probably go to bed. Especially since she was tired. The excitement of the new clothes, the new phone, and learning that French people did not care as much about people being naked in public, had exhausted her. 

Kissing her father goodnight, she changed into her pajamas, this case an extra-large t-shirt that went down almost to her knees and a pair of clean panties, white with little hot-air balloons, that created a rainbow pattern on the cloth. As she lay in bed, trying to drift off to sleep, she certainly had much to think about.



End of day one.