Page 10 of A French Inheritance
‘Having grown up with a French father and grandmother, I’m a rather rusty bilinguist,’ Briony said, smiling.
‘Gosh, you’ve got a head-start. Right, coffee is ready, milk for everyone?’
‘Just black for me,’ Briony said. ‘No sugar. Thank you.’
‘Giselle said you were an auctioneer,’ Lucy said, looking at Briony. ‘That sounds a fun job.’
Briony shook her head. ‘I wasn’t strictly an auctioneer, I organised auctions for a large auction company. But yes, it was a fun job. Sadly I’ve just been made redundant.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, it’s always a blow.’
‘You never know, sometimes these things prove to be a blessing in disguise,’ Jeannie said quietly. ‘This cake is delicious. Giselle used to make a similar one.’
‘It’s Giselle’s recipe,’ Lucy said, smiling at her.
Briony tuned out as her mother and Lucy started to talk about Giselle, her recipes and how much she was missed in the village. Her head was still buzzing from the earlier conversation with her mother, the almost casual way she had broken the news. Giselle might have wanted her to move to France and live in the cottage, but it was a ridiculous idea. Her life was in England. There was no way she could move here permanently or even keep the cottage as a holiday home, however much that idea might appeal. She didn’t have the resources. And how could her mother possibly think redundancy could prove to be a blessing in disguise?
As for her mother wanting to sell up and move over – was that a ploy cooked up by her mother and grandmother to try to keep the cottage in the family in the hope that she, Briony, would one day realise she wanted to make her home in France? The likelihood of that happening in the near future was remote, to say the least, despite the fact she could tell Jeannie was sincere when she said it was something she longed to do.
Briony sighed. She knew it would mark the end of an era, which was sad, but she couldn’t see any way around the problem other than selling the cottage. People like her simply didn’t own cottages in France and, in reality, it would be nothing but a financial drain to own property in a country you didn’t reside in.
‘Briony,’ Jeannie’s soft voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Lucy was asking if you’d like to have a wander around and see the improvements they’ve made.’
‘Sorry, I was miles away. Thinking about Granny,’ Briony apologised with a smile. ‘Yes, that would be lovely,’ and she dragged her thoughts back to the present moment.
Ten minutes later, coffee and cake finished, the three of them made their way out into the farmyard and down towards the artisan workshops and thepépinière.
The stable door to the leather workshop was open and Lucy quickly introduced them to Calvin, who was busy stitching a saddle.
‘Holly, the potter, is usually here, but she’s a single mum and her little girl isn’t well at the moment,’ Lucy said, gesturing at the middle workshop. ‘We were hoping to have a local artist using the remaining one, but she rang yesterday to tell Adam that she’s had to go back to the UK for the foreseeable future. I’m sure somebody will turn up wanting to use it this summer.’
As they had a quick look at all the plants on offer in thepépinière, Jeannie wondered silently about buying an agapanthus or two. The blue ones in terracotta pots would look stunning on the cottage terrace. She hurriedly pushed the thought away. Far too soon to be having thoughts like that when everything was up in the air and Briony hadn’t had time to come to the decision she prayed she would.
8
Walking back to the cottage after saying goodbye to Lucy and Adam, Jeannie suggested they drove to the nearestsupermarchéand stocked up on some food.
‘Good idea,’ Briony said. ‘I’ll drive this time, shall I? We should also think about charging the car. Hopefully thesupermarchéwill have a charging station.’
Driving into thesupermarchécar park, Briony spotted the electric charging section with several vacant spaces. Once they’d figured out how to do it and plugged the car in, they grabbed a trolley and went shopping.
Half an hour later as they joined the queue at the checkout, Jeannie laughed as she looked at the contents of their trolley, which included a bottle of champagne and several bottles of rosé and red wine, as well as essential food items. ‘You don’t think we’ve overdone the wine?’
‘Definitely not,’ Briony said. ‘We’re on holiday.’
Back at the cottage putting the shopping away, Jeannie said. ‘I know we’ve now stocked up with food, but I quite fancy lunch in the village today.’ She glanced at her watch, before looking at Briony hopefully. ‘One thirty. I think we’ve still got time before they close.’
Briony shrugged. ‘Just so long as you’re ready for the locals descending on us.’
‘The villagers are old friends and have always welcomed us,’ Jeannie said. ‘Giselle was very popular.’
‘Come on then. A quick walk will do us good.’
* * *
There was one pavement table available when they arrived at the village restaurant with its striped canopy pulled out over the table and chairs. Briony and Jeannie went to sit there but stopped, seeing the ‘réservé’ sign.
‘Maybe there’s a free table inside,’ Briony said.
