Page 27 of A French Inheritance
‘Thanks. I’d appreciate that.’
Twilight had fallen when Briony stood up to leave. ‘Thanks for supper. I’d better get back to the cottage before it gets too dark. Stupidly I didn’t think about bringing a torch.’
Elliot stood up. ‘I’ll walk you back down the track.’
‘No, honestly I’ll be fine. It’s not really dark yet.’
‘It’s not a problem. I haven’t walked Luna yet this evening,’ Elliot said.
‘Okay, if you’re sure, thanks.’
The track was wide enough for the two of them to walk side by side as Luna bounded ahead. ‘How do you feel about being back at the cottage on your own?’
Briony turned to look at Elliot, grateful that he had broken the silence. ‘It feels strange without Granny Giselle and also knowing that it’s mine. I suspect it’s going to take me some time to settle. Trying to decide what to do with Granny’s things is going to be hard and probably upsetting.’
‘That must be difficult. It takes courage to begin a new life in a foreign country without adding in the poignancy of missing a loved one. My new life was thrust upon me unexpectedly too, but I didn’t have to cope with grieving at the same time.’ He glanced at her. ‘All I can say is that I have discovered there is nowhere quite like France for nourishing a certainjoie de vivre– you just have to give it time.’ He gave her a reassuring smile.
‘Thank you, that’s good to hear,’ Briony said.
They were almost at the cottage gate when Briony spoke. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Of course.’ Elliot glanced at her and waited.
‘I’ve wanted a pet for years, but it hasn’t been possible until now, so I was wondering if…’
Elliot stopped and glared at her. ‘I hope you’re not going to ask to have Luna as she was your grandmother’s dog. But if you were about to ask that, the answer is a resounding NO.’
Briony gave a startled gasp. ‘No, of course I wasn’t going to ask to have Luna. That would be cruel to you both. She’s definitely your dog. I thought as a vet you might sometimes hear of dogs and cats needing to be rehomed, or you could point me in the direction of a local refuge. I’m not in any rush, it’s something for the future when I’m more settled.’
She sensed Elliot’s relief as he exhaled.
‘Yes, we do occasionally need to find new homes for animals,’ he said as he opened the gate into the cottage’s garden. ‘I’ll let you know if that happens. Right, safely home,’ and Elliot waited for Briony to walk into the garden before closing the gate. ‘Goodnight.’ And he strode off in the direction of the lake.
‘Goodnight, and thank you,’ Briony called out to his retreating back, wondering where the friendly, approachable man she’d sat at the supper table with had gone. The kind, chivalrous man who had offered to walk her home had vanished. She seemed to have this unique, unintentional ability to upset him whenever they were alone together. It was a good job they were unlikely to be thrown together often and she determined whenever that happened in the future, she’d try to avoid saying anything contentious.
* * *
Elliot trudged his way along the path to the lake, berating himself for being so sharp and cold with Briony and jumping to the wrong conclusion before she’d finished speaking. The unexpected thought that dropped into his brain that she was going to ask to have Luna had made him speak impulsively out of turn. He couldn’t bear the idea of not having Luna in his life. He knew it sounded fanciful to other people, but he and Luna understood each other.
The day he’d arrived to live on the farm, scarred by all the pain and trauma of the past months, Luna had bounded across to his side to greet him. Instantly becoming his dog. A warm feeling had spread through his body as he stroked her and she leant into him, her gaze never leaving his face. Seeming to tell him: ‘It’s going to be all right. You’ve got me now.’ There was no way anybody was going to take her away from him.
As for Briony, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was about her that got under his skin and made him act like he did. He sensed that she was a very likeable woman – a woman who, in the past, he would have been attracted to. Even now, when becoming involved with any woman was definitely not on his current agenda, he felt a certain desire to get to know Briony better. But it wasn’t something he intended to act upon. Staying away from her as much as possible would be his best bet.
20
Briony was up early the next morning and made herself a coffee, which she drank sitting in the kitchen whilst trying to figure out how to organise herself for the next few days. Some food shopping was high on the list to get her through the weekend, so a visit to the village shop for essentials like cheese, eggs, yoghurts and some salad ingredients. Stocking up at the boulangerie with bread was also on her list. Tomorrow, Saturday, she was working with Briony in the Stables. Monday she’d catch the bus into Cannes, find a cash machine and get some more cash in euros, before doing a biggersupermarchéshop and catching a taxi home.
So that left this afternoon and evening, and all day Sunday, to potter around the cottage working out how to put her own mark on the place. Make it feel more like her home rather than still being Giselle’s. Nothing drastic: move the furniture around in the sitting room, change the pictures, buy some new cushions and maybe new curtains for winter. She’d already decided that a pot of yellow paint to brighten up the kitchen was on the shopping list.
* * *
An hour later, Briony was back from the village, the shopping had been put away, the kettle was on and there were two slices of bread in the toaster for a late breakfast. Taking her breakfast out on to the terrace, Briony inhaled the fresh air as she looked around. The garden was going to need some attention too, but she knew Jeannie, a keen gardener, would welcome taking charge out there.
Once she’d finished her breakfast, Briony wandered into the sitting room. There was too much furniture in here for her taste, although she did love it all. Perhaps if she rearranged it, had the two Chesterfield settees facing each other, with one of the coffee tables in between, that would work. The writing bureau could stay where it was, an armchair could go either side of the French doors. Another one in the corner. And ornaments could disappear from the bookshelves, there were far too many.
The first problem arose when she tried to move the settees. They were too heavy, she needed a man’s strength. Maybe Gerry when he arrived would help move them. So she left them where they were and moved the armchairs nearer the French doors, placing a small table on one side of each of them. The lamps that had stood on the tables she placed on the floor temporarily by the bureau. One was a beautiful art deco brass lady. That was definitely staying. She’d decide what to do with the others later.
Briony remembered seeing some empty boxes in the shed where the garden furniture had been stored. After fetching a couple, she started to take the ornaments down from the bookshelves. More space for books and photographs. As she worked, she realised a lot of the items, a mix of French and English, were collectable, if not quite to her own taste. Some old Limoges plates, a couple of French chalk-ware beautiful decorative figurines. Small things that would be snapped up in an auction, but for now they were going in a box until she could decide what to do with them.
