Page 8 of A French Country Escape
‘I’d love one,’ Sasha said and once Ingrid had parked, she grabbed her shopping and followed her into the kitchen.
Ingrid looked out of the window as she spooned coffee into a cafetière. ‘Peter seems to have got Freddie working already, by the look of it.’
‘I know Freddie was hoping to get some work here at the château, so hopefully Peter is giving him a trial,’ Sasha said. ‘He’s a good gardener and handy at maintenance too.’
‘Are you going to be looking for work as well?’
‘I want to get the cottage straight first, and I’d also like to do something myself rather than work for anyone, but we’ll see how long my savings last,’ Sasha said. ‘The biggest problem to getting a job is my lack of French. Did you speak French when you came?’
Ingrid handed her a coffee. ‘I have a lot of vocabulary but my grammar and accent leave a lot to be desired, I’m told. Peter, of course, is fluent, having been taught by his grandparents.’
Sasha smiled. ‘I’ve got a couple of books with written exercises and verbs that I’ve been going through, but I really need the opportunity to put my school French into practice.’
‘Do you read?’
Sasha nodded, surprised at the question. ‘Always got something on the go on my Kindle.’
‘Fancy joining the château book club? We’re a mixture of French and English members, so we read novels that are available in both languages. Discussions are in a mix of Englishand French. We get together once a month. You’ll meet people as well that way.’
‘What kind of things do you read?’ Sasha asked.
‘All sorts, nothing too intellectual. This month’s book is by the French author Antoine Laurain,The President’s Hat, which I’m really enjoying. It’s quite a short one, so you’ve probably still got time to read it. I’ll let you know when the next meeting is, nearer the time.’
‘Thanks,’ Sasha said, her thoughts lifting at the thought of there being English speakers living locally, but she knew if she was going to have any chance of making a life for herself in France, learning French and actually speaking it would have to be a top priority.
Ingrid’s phone rang at that moment and she gave Sasha an apologetic look as she picked it up. ‘Sorry, it’s Penny, my daughter. Help yourself to more coffee. Hi darling, how are things?’ and Ingrid moved over to stand by the window.
Sasha, feeling awkward, wondered if she should leave but didn’t want to appear rude by disappearing without saying goodbye. The conversation was very one-sided on Penny’s part for a moment or two, so she wasn’t exactly eavesdropping. She sipped her coffee and looked around the kitchen with its pale marble worktops, cream-coloured units and a wonderful tiled picture behind the large La Cornue cooking range. Last night with the lights on, Sasha had thought it looked wonderful and today in daylight, it was just as impressive. Perhaps the same colour scheme would work in the cottage? Obviously on a much smaller scale, both size-wise and budget-wise, with more utility furniture. Maybe there was an Ikea somewhere in Brittany?
Ingrid’s vehement voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Penny, you have to leave him. Thank goodness you’re not married. You can simply walk away. Come home to us.’
Sasha shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The conversation between Ingrid and her daughter had definitely moved into the deeply personal now. There was a pause before Ingrid spoke again.
‘Rubbish. Of course you can. Do you want your father to come and collect you?’
Another longer pause before Ingrid finally said, ‘I’m certainly not going to keep this situation from your father, but I will spare him the exact details and endeavour to stop him from catching the next ferry over, providing you promise me one thing: you will end this toxic relationship asap.’
Sasha saw Ingrid’s shoulder slump in defeat at hearing Penny’s next words.
‘I’ll ring you later to make sure you’re okay. Love you.’
Ingrid’s eyes were swimming with tears when she turned to face Sasha.
‘I expect you gathered from that one-sided conversation that Penny is in a bad relationship.’
Sasha nodded. ‘I’m sorry. You must feel utterly helpless, being so far away.’
Ingrid tore a piece of kitchen paper off a nearby roll and wiped her eyes. ‘It definitely adds to my worry. Penny did talk a little to me when she was here on her own at Christmas, hinting that things between her and Rory had become difficult.’ Ingrid shook her head. ‘She didn’t say then justhowdifficult. Apparently, she thought she could handle it. Even change him.’
‘I can tell you from experience that that is impossible,’ Sasha said quietly.
Ingrid gave her a surprised look. ‘You too?’
Sasha nodded. ‘Only I wasmarriedto my abuser. In retrospect, though, I was lucky. After two years, he left me for another woman – but by then he’d milked my bank account and shredded my confidence to bits.’ She pulled a rueful face.‘My mum was furious with me. She said it should have been me walking out, not him. She felt he’d got away on his own terms and scot-free. But I couldn’t walk out.’ Sasha paused. ‘I was too terrified of the consequences to take the first step. The relief when Bradley left me was overwhelming. But the knowledge that I could begin to reclaim my life took a while to sink in. My mum was my rock during those difficult times.’
‘I’m more than willing to be Penny’s rock, but she seems desperate for me not to interfere,’ Ingrid sighed. ‘I just want her to get away from him.’
‘Do you think she will find the strength to leave this Rory? Because unless she takes that first step – or he leaves her – you can’t really do anything,’ Sasha said gently.
