Page 13 of A French Country Escape
Starlight was in the second stable stall with its tall iron partition sides on top of the wooden surrounds, and watchedthem as they approached, her head in the curve of the decorative ironwork of the door. Sasha held out her hand to the bay-coloured mare, allowing her to inspect and sniff it before gently stroking her muzzle. ‘She’s lovely. About sixteen hands?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you compete with her? Jumping or eventing?’
‘There’s not a lot of opportunity locally, but there are a couple of showjumping events over the summer I try to get to. Did you have a horse in the UK?’
Sasha shook her head. ‘No, never, sadly. Always my dream to have one. But I did ride a lot as a teenager. Would you mind if I took a photo of her with her head over the door?’
‘Feel free.’
‘I like sketching horses and Starlight is beautiful.’
‘Will you show it to me when you’ve done it?’
‘If I think it’s any good, yes,’ and Sasha stepped back and took several shots on her phone of Starlight’s head from different angles.
Colette chatted away about how grateful she was to Ingrid and Peter for allowing her the use of the stables as she finished the mucking out. ‘I wish there were more horses in here, though. I don’t like the fact that Starlight is alone a lot of the time while I’m at work. Hey,’ she turned to Sasha. ‘You could get a horse and keep it here. Get back to riding again. We could hack out together. I know all the best rides around here.’
Sasha laughed the suggestion away. ‘Once I’m settled in, maybe. Right now, I’ve enough things to sort out.’ She closed the camera app on her phone down. ‘I’ll let you get on.’ Turning to go, she hesitated. ‘Do you work every day? I could come down and check on Starlight during the day if you’d like me to?’
‘Oh please, do that whenever you’ve got time.’
‘And, if you ever go away and need someone to look after her, just let me know,’ Sasha said, giving Starlight’s muzzle one last stroke.
Sasha walked back to the Cottages du Lac thinking about Starlight, the empty stables, and Colette’s suggestion of her getting a horse. The timing wasn’t right, but suddenly her dream of having one of her own was back, and this time maybe it wouldn’t turn out to be such an impossible one.
11
Sasha, glad that Ingrid had reminded her about the book club, was looking forward to the evening. Reading on her Kindle in bed last thing at night, once Freddie had set up their internet connection, she’d managed to almost finishThe President’s Hat, enough to be able to say she’d enjoyed it, anyway. She was also looking forward to meeting some more of the villagers. She’d suggested to Freddie that he might like to join her, but he’d declined. ‘You know I’m not much of a reader,’ he’d said. ‘Anyway, tonight I thought I’d wander down to the bar in the village.’
The sun was shining on the weeping willow on the far side of the lake in front of the Cottages du Lac as Sasha left to walk to the château. The willow’s long drooping branches were bursting into life and becoming greener by the day as spring progressed. Other trees scattered around the grounds, ancient oaks and horse chestnuts, were also showing signs of responding to the warmer weather as their leaves cautiously opened, giving a green edge to the outline of their branches against the sky. Another week or so and they would be a mass of leaves.
Two or three cars were already parked down the side of the château and Sasha hoped she wasn’t late. When she hesitantly pushed at the open kitchen door and peered inside, Ingrid immediately came to welcome her.
‘Sasha, come on in and meet everyone. They are all in our small sitting room,’ and Ingrid took her through.
Six or seven people were holding glasses of wine and helping themselves from plates of nibbles that had been placed on small tables between the chairs.
‘Does Peter not come to the book club?’ Sasha asked.
‘When we choose something he likes,’ Ingrid said, laughing. ‘Tonight he is planning to try and trace some more of his family history whilst it’s quiet in the kitchen.’
The first people Ingrid introduced her to were a retired teacher, Benjamin, and his wife, Suzie, from the UK, who said how nice it was to have another English member in the club as they didn’t really speak French.
‘What they mean is, they don’t eventryto speak the language, which is naughty of them and upsets the locals,’ Ingrid muttered sotto voce as she led Sasha towards a small group of people talking quietly amongst themselves.
Sasha, surprised to see Jean-Paul, gave him a smile before Ingrid began her introductions.
‘This is Madame Eliza Albertini,’ she said to Sasha before turning to an elderly woman and speaking French as she introduced her to Sasha.
‘Bonjour, Madame Albertini,’ Sasha said, smiling at the petite woman with the white hair; she received a warm smile and a quiet ‘Bienvenue’ in return. She reminded Sasha of the main character of one of her favourite childhood books – Mrs Pepperpot. ‘You know Jean-Paul already, and this is Lucas Briet, Eliza’s grandson, who is staying with her at the moment,’ Ingrid said.
Whilst Jean-Paul smiled and said a quiet ‘Bonsoir, Sasha,’Lucas gently shook her hand and stared into her eyes as he said, ‘Enchantéand welcome,mademoiselle.’
‘Merci,’ Sasha said, smiling. Lucas and Jean-Paul – both in their early thirties she guessed, and clearly friends – couldn’t be more different. She noticed that Jean-Paul didn’t quite roll his eyes at Lucas’s exuberant greeting, but clearly found it amusing.
‘You know Josette from the boulangerie,’ Ingrid said, moving on to another couple. ‘This is her husband, Robert.’
