Page 22 of Summer at the Château
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The next day, Saturday 1 May, Pixie spent some time deciding where to put her desktop computer and printer. She’d really have liked to set things up in the room on the third floor, but there wasn’t a desk up there or even a table she could use. In the end, she decided on the second sitting room at the front of the château where there was a large extending table, which would comfortably hold both computer and printer and leave space for files and printouts, as well as any reference books she might buy, together with the scraps of paper she always seemed to generate when she was writing.
While in England, she’d emailed an internet provider and organised the setting up of an account and had been promised that it would be up and working by next week. Fingers crossed that would happen.
As they prepared to leave on Saturday evening to drive to the auberge for supper, they could hear childish laughter coming through the open windows of the cottage.
‘Someone sounds happy,’ Gwen said.
Pixie gave a non-committal ‘Mmm’ as she placed a pretty gift bag with wine, chocolate and three pots of muguets on the back seat of the car. She looked at Gwen as she got in the car.
‘Not seen that brooch for a long time. I remember you wearing it a lot when I was a child.’
Gwen smiled as she touched the lighthouse brooch pinned to her silk scarf. ‘I couldn’t come back to Brittany without it.’
Pixie glanced at her questioningly, but Gwen smiled at her serenely and didn’t say anything else, so Pixie turned back to concentrate on her driving.
The door to the auberge was open when Pixie and Gwen arrived and by the time she’d parked and picked up the gift bag, Fern had appeared to welcome and usher them inside.
‘Happy Labour Day,’ Pixie said, holding out the bag. ‘Hope you’ve haven’t been working too hard for this evening though.’
‘Thank you. You didn’t need to bring anything.’
‘Wouldn’t dream of arriving empty-handed,’ Pixie answered.
Scott, waiting for them in the kitchen with Anouk, handed glasses of champagne around.
‘To new friends and summer in Brittany,’ he said, raising his glass in a toast.
‘I’d hoped we’d eat out on the terrace, but there’s a bit of a nip in the air, so it’s supper around the kitchen table tonight – not so formal as the dining room,’ Fern said. ‘I invited Belinda and Alain from the campsite for the evening too, but Belinda rang earlier to apologise. Campers due to check in late this afternoon broke down on the way and aren’t expecting to arrive much before ten o’clock, so they have to stay on site until then.’
‘I love your kitchen,’ Pixie said as they all sat down at the table. ‘I would have liked to do something similar up at the château but…’ she shrugged. ‘We’ll use it this summer and leave whoever buys it to update it.’
‘Perhaps summer here will change your mind about selling,’ Anouk said.
Pixie shook her head. ‘Perhaps, but I don’t expect it to.’ She glanced at Fern who was busy placing their Coquille Saint Jacques starters on the table. ‘Did you know there’s a tenant in the château’s cottage?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you met her? Do you know anything about her?
Fern shook her head. ‘I’ve met her briefly but I don’t know a lot about her. She’s French and she and her son have been living there for over a year, I think. She makes beautiful baskets.
‘I thought she was English,’ Pixie said, surprised. ‘She has no trace of a French accent. Jean-Yves, the notaire, says I need to make sure they leave during the summer, otherwise it could be a problem selling the château in the winter.’
Anouk nodded. ‘That would be the winter truce that prevents evictions for the five months of winter. Can be a real problem for landlords.’
‘Jean-Yves is a very well-respected notaire,’ Fern said. ‘He’ll know the best way to deal with it.’
‘Have you lots of plans for the summer?’ Scott asked.
‘A few, but I’ve got to work while I’m here, I’ve got edits and a deadline to meet for my next book,’ Pixie said. ‘But I’ll make sure Mum and I have plenty of fun too.’
‘You’re a writer?’
Pixie nodded. ‘For my sins, yes. Monday morning, after this holiday weekend, my routine will be back in force.’
‘What d’you write?’ Fern asked.
