Page 17 of A French Country Escape
Sasha nodded ruefully. ‘Yep. Before I forget, Ingrid is taking me to look at a puppy this evening. Do you want to come?’
Freddie shook his head. ‘I plan to brave the bar in the village again tonight. Big football match on and they have a huge screen.’
‘You and your football. You don’t mind me getting a dog, do you?’
Freddie shook his head. ‘Why would I? You know how much I love dogs.’
‘With the cottages being so close, if I get one, it’ll probably treat both cottages as its own.’
‘Okay by me.’
‘I’d better go and meet Ingrid. I shouldn’t be long. I’ll get supper organised when I get back.’
‘I’ll get supper before I go out tonight,’ Freddie said. ‘So take your time.’
‘How did Peter react to Penny’s message?’ Sasha asked as Ingrid drove them out through the gates.
‘Like you. We have to wait and see what happens, but at least she’s coming home.’ Ingrid sighed. ‘I can’t help worrying though.’ She glanced across at Sasha. ‘Did I see you driving a van down the drive earlier?’
‘Yes. Freddie’s newly acquired transport. The first time in ages I’ve actually sat behind a wheel. And the first time I’ve ever driven an automatic. Not to mention sitting on the left.’
‘I like automatics, not having to worry about changing gear is wonderfully liberating,’ Ingrid said. ‘You’ll soon be bombing around all over the place.’
‘Hope so, I need to suss out some things for the cottage. Which reminds me, are there any second-hand furniture places around? Or even good charity shops?’
‘France doesn’t really get the idea of charity shops,’ Ingrid said. ‘But there are a couple around: the best one is an animal charity about forty minutes away in Poullaouen. There is a big second-hand outlet in Carhaix – you can furnish a house from top to bottom with stuff from there. Some of it’s old-fashioned, but good quality. I bought a couple of tables and Breton bedframes and wardrobes for the château from there. And then there is Emmaüs in Pontivy, about an hour and a half away.’
‘Great. I’ll check out the more local ones first,’ Sasha said. ‘I’ve decided to reopen my Etsy store, but I need some shelves, a desk and a table to turn one of the bedrooms into a workroom.’
‘What do you sell?’ Ingrid asked as she indicated to turn down a farm track.
‘Prints, stationery, birthday cards, paintings of whatever catches my eye or are commissioned – mainly horses, dogs or a countryside theme. Occasionally, I take a commission to do people portraits. I also used to design brochures, bookmarks, logos and things for a couple of businesses in the UK.’
‘I think Peter and I need to talk to you about a logo for the Château du Cheval when you’re ready. Right, let’s have a look at these pups,’ and Ingrid pulled to a stop outside the farmhouse.
Almost immediately, the front door opened.
‘Bonjour, Bruno,’ and Ingrid introduced Sasha. After the obligatory handshakes, Bruno said something in rapid French before indicating they should follow him. ‘The puppies are in the barn,’ Ingrid translated.
Bruno pushed open the door of a nearby outbuilding and as they walked in, they were greeted by a friendly long-haired sheepdog.
‘Meg, the mother,’ Ingrid said.
Bales of straw and hay were piled high, and sheep with lambs at heel were bleating gently in several pens. Sasha smiled, spying a duck sitting high up on a bale, and then she saw the pups, curled up sleeping together in one of the open pens.
Sasha dropped to her knees in front of them, as their mother appeared at her side. Tentatively, Sasha held out her hand for the bitch to sniff before gently stroking her head. The sleeping puppies soon awoke and moved inquisitively towards her; within minutes, they were clambering all over her.
‘Oh, aren’t they adorable. Can you ask him if they have names?’ she asked Ingrid. ‘How old are they? Have they been inoculated? And how much are they?’ She was gently tickling the tummy of one who had rolled onto her back. As she concentrated on playing with the puppies, she was dimly aware of Ingrid and Bruno talking quietly behind her. One of the dogs, who’d seemed a little more hesitant in the beginning than the other one, nudged her free hand and rolled onto her back for a tummy tickle too. Sasha smothered a sigh. They were both adorable. How on earth could she choose between them?
‘They’re female collies, but neither of the parents is registered as such. They are three months old, weaned, inoculated, but neither have names,’ Ingrid said behind her. ‘The other four in the litter have sold for seventy-five euros each – basically covering food costs, inoculations, but not chipping. These two bonded almost from the moment they were born, and he’d really like them to stay together. He’s willing to let you have them both for one hundred and twenty euros.’
‘Tell him yes. I was struggling to decide which one to have, but now I don’t have to,’ Sasha said happily. ‘Freddie and I can have one each.’
‘Are you sure?’ Ingrid said, taken aback by her instant decision.
‘Yes. Freddie will be thrilled. Can I pay for them now but pick them up tomorrow? I need to buy a few things! Get organised. Oh, can you ask him which brand of dog food they are used to, please?’
With Ingrid’s help, the formalities were completed and Sasha gave the puppies one last cuddle. ‘See you both tomorrow.’
