Page 46 of A French Country Escape
‘If it’s any help, I think she likes you a lot too,’ Alice said.
‘Well, that something I suppose.’
‘You’ll just have to take it slowly, let her get over her bad relationship.’
Lucas nodded.
‘In the meantime, brother dear, Grand-maman says you’ve quit your job, so how about telling me why? I thought you were on a sabbatical. You loved that job.’
Lucas shook his head. ‘Not ready to talk about it yet. And if you know nothing, you can’t go blabbing to Penny.’
‘Blabbing! That’s an outrageous thing to accuse me of,’ Alice said, laughing. ‘Seriously, you know you can talk to me. Grand-maman says you were a little preoccupied when you came back.’
‘Preoccupied, yes,’ Lucas said. ‘Another week and it should be sorted, and then I can tell everyone what going on.’
‘That sounds a bit ominous,’ Alice said.
Lucas shrugged. ‘It is what it is.’
34
Sasha looked around her studio with a happy smile on her face. At last it was ready. Everything was in its place. She could start to get serious about working from home and marketing her stuff. She quickly took a couple of photos for her website and Instagram account, knowing from experience the room wouldn’t stay pristine for long once she started to work in there. Satisfied the photos she’d taken were good, she put the phone in her pocket. All she had to do now was to get rid of the empty boxes she’d thrown out onto the landing. They would be useful for packaging later, but she didn’t want the clutter in her studio, so they could go up in the attic.
Freddie had discovered that the attic in his cottage had not only been floored, but that there were also a light and a foldaway ladder that came down to safely access it. Hopefully the same had been done in this cottage. Sasha took the pole with a hook she’d found in the small bedroom, slipped it into the ring in the ceiling trapdoor and pulled.
To her relief, it opened and dropped down, a dusty wooden foldaway ladder attached to it. Carefully, Sasha extended the ladder, placing its legs on the ground and making sure it wassteady before she began to climb. As she reached the top, she saw a light cord on the right-hand side and gave it a gentle tug. A bulb hanging in the middle of the attic didn’t instantly flood the place with light – it was more like a dim glow – but it was enough to see that the attic was floored and empty.
Except it wasn’t.
On the left, a mere arm’s length away from the opening, as if it had been flung there in haste just to get it out of the way, was a cardboard box. Sasha reached out and pulled it towards her, and brushed off the dust and cobwebs. The light was too dim to read the label, so she picked it up. Thankfully it wasn’t too heavy, and she carefully descended the steps. She placed the box on the floor of the studio whilst she cleared the landing.
It took her two climbs up to throw the empty boxes into the attic before she pulled the light cord to switch the bulb off and went down for the final time. She slid the ladder up and pushed the trapdoor back into its place.
In the studio, she picked up the box, put it on the desk and studied it thoughtfully. It had clearly been sent through the post, but for some reason had never been opened by the recipient because the sealing wax was intact. The postmark had faded in places, but Sasha could just make out Mai 1965, although the name of the town it had been sent from, nearly sixty years ago, was illegible. The parcel, sent by registered post, was addressed to Madame Eliza Albertini, No. 1 Cottages du Lac, Château du Cheval. Finistère. No surprise there, Eliza had been living in the cottage then. The sender’s name was written on the back: Maître Jocelyn Bellicam.Notaire. No address given here, just adépartementnumber that had been so smudged as to be unreadable.
So many questions began to tumble around in Sasha’s mind. Why had Eliza never opened the parcel? Had she put it in the loft herself, or did someone else hide it up there out of the way? DidEliza even know about it? And what should she, Sasha, do now? She knew, of course, she should give it to Eliza straight away. Technically and morally, it did belong to her. But if she was the person who had placed it in the attic unopened all those years ago, would she find it any easier to open and see the contents now she was older?
Sasha took a photo of the parcel before placing it on the floor under the desk. Eliza had already had one major trip down memory lane with the contents of the box from the stable, a nostalgic trip she had clearly enjoyed. But what if the contents of the unopened box proved to be unhappy memories? Sasha didn’t want to upset Eliza. The next time she saw Peter and Ingrid she’d mention finding the box and ask what they thought she should do with it.
Sasha clipped Mimi and Mitzi onto their leads and set off to the stables, hoping the walk and time spent talking to Starlight would clear her head and help her to think straight. Colette was just finishing saddling up her horse ready for a hack around the lanes when she got there.
‘Enjoy,’ Sasha said. ‘Wish I were coming with you.’
Colette put her left foot in the stirrup, swung herself up and lowered herself gently onto Starlight’s back before looking down at Sasha. ‘Might have a proposition for you. A friend of mine has a Welsh Cob she adores and doesn’t want to sell, but she urgently needs someone to take him on a permanent loan basis. She’s pregnant with her second baby, so her time is going to be limited for several months at least. If you’re interested, I can give you her number. Think about it and let me know.’ Colette gently kicked Starlight into a walk and was gone.
Sasha watched until they’d disappeared, then she turned and walked back to the cottage. Having a horse on permanent loan was tempting, but would she really get to ride it that much? While she was trying to build up stock and do the marketing to generate an income with her art and craft work, her own time was going to be severely limited. Walking, playing and trying to train Mimi and Mitzi took up a lot of her spare time already. And the cottage renovations were by no means finished. But it would be lovely to have a horse in her life.
She’d ask Ingrid how much a DIY livery at the château would be, and add on the cost of hay, horse nuts, regular blacksmith visits and possible vet charges. Even as she added it all up in her head, Sasha knew she was being unrealistically optimistic in thinking she could do it – wasn’t she? The large amount of money Ingrid had paid her for thetrompe l’œilshad been unexpected, hadn’t been included in her budget or allocated anywhere yet. Would it be terribly irresponsible of her to use that money to take on a horse?
Freddie was getting out of the van when Sasha got back to the cottage.
‘You’re home early. Or are you off again?’ she asked.
‘Determined to finish plumbing in my bathroom this evening,’ Freddie said. ‘Do you want me to cook supper first?’
‘I was going to do a risotto,’ Sasha said. ‘Fancy a cup of tea in the garden right now?’
‘Good idea. I’ve got some biscuits indoors.’
