Page 19 of A French Country Escape
‘Brilliant idea,’ Freddie said.
‘We’re collecting them tomorrow. At least, that was the plan, but Ingrid fell out of the Land Rover when we got back and hurt herself.’ Sasha sat down with a sigh. ‘I feel so guilty. Ingrid has been so kind and now because she was doing me a favour, she’s injured and she’s got the first guests coming to the château in about forty-eight hours.’
‘I’m sure she doesn’t blame you,’ Freddie said. ‘These things happen.’
‘Doesn’t stop me feeling guilty though. Can you take me to pick up the puppies?’ Sasha asked hopefully.
‘Sure, but it will have to be about eight o’clock tomorrow evening. I’m working all day.’
‘It’s a bit late. There won’t be much time to settle them in, but at least we’d have them. Okay, thanks. I’ll ask Ingrid to ring Bruno tomorrow for me and let him know I’ll be later than planned to pick up the pups.’
After supper, Sasha went up to her soon-to-be studio room and studied the boxes before emptying the biggest one and leaving the contents in a pile on the floor. She took it downstairsand placed it in the corner of the kitchen. Freddie cut it down to the size she thought it should be, whilst she went to find a couple of small blankets to make it comfy. She’d buy a proper bed for the two of them when she went into town next.
‘Right, I’m off to the bar to watch the football. You could come if you wanted to?’ Freddie suggested.
‘No thanks. I might download a copy ofRebeccaand start to re-read it, ready for the next book club meeting. I know I read it at school, but that was sometime ago.’
15
Sasha was almost at the château early the next morning when she saw the Land Rover with Peter at the wheel and Ingrid in the passenger seat about to drive away. Peter wound down his window. ‘On our way to the doctor. Hopefully we won’t be too long.’
‘Waste of everyone’s time. I know it’s just a sprain,’ Ingrid grumbled from the passenger seat. ‘I’ve done it often enough in the past.’
Peter ignored her. ‘Will you pop in when we get back?’ he asked Sasha.
‘Of course. I’ll come and make the bed up for the guests later too,’ Sasha said. ‘And do anything else Ingrid wants done.’
As Peter drove away, Sasha followed him down the drive towards the stables, thinking she’d give Starlight a stroke or two. Being around horses in the past had always lifted her spirits. She hesitated when she saw that the car parked on the forecourt wasn’t Colette’s usual one, but then she heard a man’s voice talking gently to Starlight as he mucked out her stall. A man’s voice she recognised.
‘Lucas. Why are you here? Is Colette all right?’
‘Bien sûr,’ Lucas said. ‘She ask me for the muck out today because she had the early rendezvous in Quimper.’ He laid the shovel and fork he’d been using across the full wheelbarrow. ‘I get rid of,’ and he grabbed the handles and trundled it outside.
Sasha stroked Starlight’s muzzle before giving her a piece of carrot and going outside.
Lucas, washing his hands with a nearby hose, looked at her. ‘Why you look sad?’
Startled, Sasha smiled. ‘I’m not really sad. Just a bit down. You have heard about Ingrid’s accident?’
When Lucas shook his head and gave a worried ‘Non,’ she explained, and said how guilty she felt about it.
‘Freddie will take me to collect the puppies but not until this evening, which is a little late to get them settled.’
‘I take you to pick up the puppies after lunch, okay? About two o’clock. Today it is good for me. My sister Alice, she arrive on the ferry one day this week.’ Lucas shrugged. ‘I have to collect her but she not tell me which day yet.’
‘Are you sure? That would be great. Thank you.’
‘See, I said you need my phone number. We do it now.’ Lucas took his phone out of his pocket, and waited expectantly as Sasha told him the number. ‘I ring you and then you have the number to save.’ On cue, the phone in her hand rang.
‘Thank you,’ Sasha said, saving the number in her contacts.
‘Bon. Now we get together when we like,’ Lucas said, giving her a cheeky grin.
Leaving the stables, Sasha walked back to the cottage. She ran lightly up the stairs, found her sketchbook and several pencils, and went back down to the kitchen. Opening her phone, shefound a picture of Starlight, studied it for a few moments before tentatively starting to move the pencil across the paper. It was so long since she’d drawn anything, maybe she’d forgotten how to do it.
Five minutes later and her pencil was starting to shade the outline of Starlight’s head. Her fingers automatically applying pressure where she instinctively knew the lines needed to be stronger, relaxing her grip of the pencil where a feather-light touch was needed. It felt so good to be drawing again.
Holding the sketchbook away from her, she studied her work critically. Okay, it wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t too bad either. It wouldn’t take too much practice to get back to a saleable standard.
