Page 32 of A French Inheritance
Briony was quiet for the short journey to the big out-of-townsupermarchésituated above Antibes.
‘Penny for them?’ Lucy said, glancing at her as she drove into a parking place.
‘They’re worth more than a penny,’ Briony smiled. ‘I’ve had an idea that I need to think through properly before I discuss it with anyone. Quite possibly it could be the stupidest idea I’ve ever had, in which case I shall never tell a soul.’
‘Okay. Let’s shop before it gets too busy,’ Lucy said.
Pushing a large trolley each they made for the store and did just that. An hour later both trolleys were filled, although Briony’s took the prize for containing the most diverse shopping. DIY stuff, like pots of paint, sandpaper, brushes nails, hammer, a battery-driven screwdriver, all were nestled in with the food shopping.
‘Can I treat you to coffee and cake, or even an early lunch as a thank you?’ Briony said, once it was all loaded in Lucy’s car.
‘I’d better get back,’ Lucy said regretfully. ‘I’ve a mountain of emails to sort through. We’ll have lunch out another time.’
Once she was home, and the shopping was put away, Briony made herself a coffee, opened a packet of choc chip cookies and sat out on the terrace in the sunshine, turning her idea over and over in her head.
Wandering around the market this morning, she’d had what she could only think of as a light-bulb moment. Could she become a brocante trader in France? Buy things and sell them in markets.
She’d have to start slowly. Get to know her customer base, their likes and dislikes. Different things would appeal to the Riviera tourists in the summer – things they could carry easily on the flight home. Although not an expert on anything she knew a little about lots of items. She had an eye for good quality and she’d surprised herself this morning wandering around how little bits of knowledge about certain pieces had drifted into her mind.
That little brass carriage clock, early nineteenth century by a French horologist, was a case in point. She knew the woman had seriously underpriced it. It was worth double what she was selling it for. Briony knew because a similar one had gone through the auction rooms a couple of months ago, not in as good a condition and without its original leather carrying case which the one in the market came with.
The thought of being her own boss and doing something she loved was quite intoxicating. Getting an entrepreneur business of selling second-hand items off the ground would take a lot of planning and hard work, which she knew she was more than capable of doing. One of the biggest questions that would need answering early on was did she need a shopfront? Or could she just have a stall in various markets throughout the year? Another question was – where would she find stock?
Briony laughed out loud. So many of Giselle’s things she’d been boxing up would be regarded as collectable by other people. She already had more than enough stock to start her off in fact.
Finishing her coffee, Briony stood up. She’d keep mulling it over for a few days, get everything straight in her mind before mentioning it to anyone. What she really needed to do this week was to find herself some transport. Time to do some serious searching of the internet.
25
Briony made her way up to the farm later that afternoon, hoping she’d catch Adam or even Elliot. Elliot’s Toyota wasn’t by his cottage so he clearly wasn’t around. Fingers crossed that Adam was in the house and not out working in the vineyard or down in the avocado field.
Opening the farm door, she called out, ‘It’s only me. Can I come in? I need your advice please.’
‘Yes of course,’ Lucy answered. ‘Everything all right? I’ve just made a pot of tea, would you like a cup?’
‘Please,’ Briony said, happy to see Adam sitting at the kitchen table, tea and biscuits in front of him. ‘I hate to be a nuisance, but I think I’ve found a vehicle on LeBonCoin.’
‘LeBonCoin, the great French treasure trove of online advertising of all things for sale everywhere in France,’ Adam said, laughing.
Lucy handed her a mug. ‘Exciting. What kind? What colour? I know that’s a very girly thing to ask, but colour is important.’
‘It’s a 2012 Renault Kangoo. One owner since new; 104,000 kilometres on the clock. Colour red. Three thousand two fifty euros. Is it too old to buy? It sounds a good deal to me, but I know nothing about cars.’
‘Those Kangoos go on forever. There’s one in the village that is at least thirty years old,’ Adam said thoughtfully. ‘If it’s been well maintained and has a currentcontrol technique, the age doesn’t really matter. Where is it? And is it a private sale or a trader?’
‘It’s actually quite local – Cannes la Bocca. And it’s a private sale. Which was why I was wondering whether you could telephone and ask the questions you know I should ask, and then would you possibly have time to take me to see it if you think it’s okay?’
‘If you give me the number, I’ll ring now,’ Adam said.
Briony gave him the piece of paper she’d scribbled the number on.
She sipped her tea listening to the technical questions Adam was asking and wondering whether the answers were good or bad. Adam gave a smile as he finished the call with a cheerful ‘D’accord. Merci beaucoup.’
‘It’s certainly worth a look,’ Adam said. ‘The owner has told me where it is and we can go and see it any time. I’d take you this evening, but Bruno is arriving soon for one of our regular vineyard progress meetings. Elliot should be home any time soon, I’m sure he’d be happy to take you. Otherwise I can take you in the morning.’
‘Tomorrow morning will be fine,’ Briony said, swallowing her disappointment at the delay. ‘If you’re happy to take me.’
‘I’ll come and pick you up after breakfast,’ Adam said.
