Page 30 of A French Affair
‘Did they find it?’ Scott asked gently.
‘For a while. Then the letters stopped coming during the Depression. It was sometime before he ’eard they’d both died during that terrible time in America.’ Anouk sighed as she accepted a coffee from Fern.
‘So you’re here researching your family history then?’ Fern asked, handing Scott a coffee. ‘Help yourself to biscuits.’
‘There was an album at home all the time I was growing up, full of faded photos and other mementos of the area. I’ve wanted to visit forever, but it’s taken until now to happen.’
‘D’you still have relatives over here?’ Fern asked. ‘If you do, surely you could stay with them?’
‘Sadly no.’
‘I went to school with a Marie-France Kergoëts,’ Anouk said thoughtfully. ‘I think she died last year. Married someone from Josselyn. Moved back this way when she was widowed. Maybe she was a relative?’
‘That’s interesting,’ Scott answered. ‘I’ll have to do some research. As far as I know, my last relative living in the Gourin area died a few years ago.’
Fern, watching Scott talk so easily to Anouk, couldn’t help but be drawn to the man. He was just so open and honest. She’d tell him he could have a room, she decided, as soon as she could get a word in edgewise between Anouk and him. And then Anouk paved the way.
‘Where are you staying?’ she asked.
‘Ah, well, at the moment nowhere. But I’d heard about this rather good auberge run by a certain lady and I was hoping she might have a space?’ he answered, looking at Fern.
Before Fern could say anything, Anouk answered him.
‘Yes she does, don’t you, Fern?’ Anouk leaned conspiratorially towards Scott. ‘Fern’s not doing evening meals for the other guests, so you’ll ’ave to join us for supper in the kitchen.’
‘That sounds wonderful,’ he said quietly back, looking at Fern questioningly.
Before she could react, Anouk went to stand up, and Scott was instantly on his feet to help and handed her stick to her.
‘Thank you. Please excuse me for five minutes,’ and Anouk turned to walk slowly into the house.
It was Scott who broke the silence that fell between them. ‘Do you have a room I can rent like Anouk says? Or would you rather send me away?’
‘How did you find me? You’re not going to turn out to be a stalker, are you?’ Fern said.
Scott grinned at her. ‘No way. You’d told me your name and the direction you lived in. And in the last Tourist Office I found, when I mentioned your name, the lady behind the desk knew you. Bingo – here I am.’ He looked at Fern for several seconds before he added, ‘I promise I’m not a stalker. I simply liked you when we met and wanted to see you again. Maybe make amends after I upset you with my offer of dinner. I’ll understand if you’d rather I didn’t stay here, but I hope you’ll allow me to buy you dinner one evening. Anouk too, she reminds me of my grandmother. Feisty, utterly incorrigible and so French.’
In spite of herself, Fern laughed. ‘That’s one way of describing her. Scott, just so you know, you’re welcome to a room here.’
‘And supper in the kitchen with you two?’
‘If you would like to join us, you’re more than welcome. Now, fetch your suitcase and I’ll show you to your room. I need to get lunch. Would you like to join us? I’m sure Anouk would like to interrogate you some more.’
Scott laughed. ‘Thanks. I’d love to have lunch with you both.’
Fern was in the kitchen making a green salad when Anouk returned. ‘Can I ’elp you, and before you say non, remember I still managed to feed myself at home.’
‘I was going to make a mozzarella salad – cheese and tomatoes are in the fridge, basil on the windowsill.’
‘He is nice your Monsieur Scott,’ Anouk said as she deftly sliced tomatoes a few minutes later. ‘He reminds me of someone.’
‘He is not mine,’ Fern protested. ‘I’ve only met him once before. But I agree he does seem nice.’
‘Where did you meet?’
‘I took Lady for a walk a few weeks ago in Tronjoly park and we got chatting.’
‘Ah Tronjoly. That figures,’ Anouk said.
