Page 7 of A French Inheritance
Briony watched as Elliot turned and strolled away, Luna trotting at his side. Once they were out of sight, she began to walk back the way she’d come. The dog clearly adored him and Elliot had definitely been making sure that she realised he was now the owner of Luna. Was he worried that she or her mother would want to have the dog after all this time? He’d certainly taken off quickly once he’d got his message over. Didn’t hang around to make small talk with her. Maybe her ‘love me, love my dog’ comment had upset him? Next time she saw him, she would attempt to reassure him that they wouldn’t dream of trying to claim Luna as theirs. Their lives in England were incompatible with having a dog. Hopefully putting that into words would be enough to banish any lasting doubts he might be harbouring and even bring a smile to his face.
Back at the cottage, she found Jeannie on the terrace reading a paperback, a glass of rosé on the table in front of her. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist opening the bottle. It’s lovely, cold and delicious. How was your walk?’
‘I’ll just get a glass of rosé and tell you,’ Briony said. ‘Shall I organise some food as well?’
‘Pour your wine and come and sit down. We’ll get supper together in a bit. It’s still early.’
‘Santé,’ Briony said, returning with a glass of rosé a few moments later. ‘It’s lovely being back here but so strange without Granny here. It’s hard.’
‘Yes, it is hard. But don’t you feel that her very essence, her spirit if you will, still lingers here? She loved this cottage so much. I keep expecting to see her in the kitchen every time I walk in,’ Jeannie said quietly. ‘I have so many memories of her teaching me how to prepare and cook meals like a true French wife.’
‘She was a brilliant hostess too. Loved having friends come for lunch – and stay for supper.’ Briony smiled. ‘You must walk down to the lake soon. It’s been turned into a beautiful oasis. There’s a rowing boat tied to a small jetty too – wish I could row. There’s a bench there in a perfect position to sit and watch the birds. The next time I walk down, I must remember to take my phone and take some photos.’
‘Have you brought your Nikon as well?’ Jeannie asked.
Briony shook her head. ‘I’ve got out of the habit of using the camera. My iPhone takes such good pictures.’ Briony took a drink of her wine. ‘Guess who came bounding up to me down there? Luna. I think she actually remembered me, even though she hasn’t seen me for a few years. She’s grown into a lovely dog.’
‘You’ve met Adam then?’
‘No. His brother Elliot was walking her. He made it quite clear that Luna is his dog now; apparently they are inseparable.’ She glanced at her mother. ‘Did you meet him when you came to see Granny before she moved over to be with us? He seemed nice enough but a bit…’ she hesitated. ‘Not unfriendly but reserved.’
Jeannie shook her head. ‘Adam did mention a brother on one occasion, but our visits never coincided. Maybe we’ll see him tomorrow morning when we go up for coffee.’
Later, as the two of them ate their ham and cheese salad supper before having an early night, Briony found her thoughts returning to Elliot. There had been a certain uneasy air about him when they were talking. Her unexpected presence down by the lake had made him uncomfortable for some reason. Was he shy? Or was it just Luna’s reaction to her that had unsettled him? Either way, Briony hoped that the next time they met it wouldn’t feel so awkward.
6
Briony left the bedroom curtains open and the window ajar when she went to bed that first night, hoping to hear an owl or two. She didn’t hear any owls, but woke in the morning to the sound of the dawn chorus. She lay there listening, wishing she could attribute more of the songs to the individual birds. There was definitely a blackbird in there and a chaffinch.
Apart from the birdsong, it was quiet. No traffic noise. No neighbours. No police sirens in the distance. So different from Bristol, where, depending on the atmospherics, there was nearly always some sort of low background traffic hum.
Briony lay on her back looking at the faded solar system her dad had stuck to the ceiling many years ago. The room’s wallpaper had been changed over the years, but the ceiling had remained untouched. She remembered her excitement watching her dad stick all the stars, the moon and the planets in their places and had asked for the same for her bedroom ceiling at home. But for some reason that had never happened.
As the birdsong died away and it grew lighter as the sun rose, Briony threw off the duvet and made for the bathroom, thinking about the day ahead. Coffee with Lucy up at the farm this morning, possibly lunch in the village after buying some food supplies and then maybe Jeannie would want to start sorting things out. That’s what they were here for after all, so a busy day to look forward to.
When she walked into the kitchen, her mum was already there, coffee made and fresh croissants on the table.
‘This looks good,’ Briony said, pulling out a chair.
‘I was up early and walked into the village,’ Jeannie explained. ‘The boulangerie is now run by a young generation of the DuBois family – still as good though,’ and she poured Briony a coffee.
‘You planning on walking into the village every morning?’
Jeannie smiled. ‘Probably not. Today I need to talk to you and I wanted to clear my head with a walk first.’
‘Is something wrong?’ Briony glanced at her mother, concerned.
‘No. I simply have to explain something. And to tell you about Granny Giselle’s last wishes. It’s something that I should have talked about after I received the notaire’s letter, but Granny Giselle had asked me to wait until we were over here. I think she felt that being in the cottage would bring back good memories and inspire you to really think about your future.’
Briony waited as her mother pulled a croissant apart before taking a sip or two of coffee.
‘I agreed to wait because I naively thought it would be easier to do once we were here. Turns out to be just as difficult as it would have been back home.’
Jeannie took a deep breath.
‘There are two things I need to tell you. First, the bit that is straightforward and which I knew already but you probably did not realise. French inheritance law is uncomplicated in one major way only: property goes from parents to their children. In Granny Giselle’s case, sadly her only son, your dad, died before her, and there are no other relatives who have a claim.’ Jeannie paused and looked at Briony. ‘The truth is you have inherited Owls Nest from Granny Giselle, not me. Giselle couldn’t leave it to me, even though I was her daughter-in-law. You are her closest direct descendant, therefore, legally, the cottage passes to you.’
Jeannie picked up her cup and drank her coffee before pushing the empty cup away.
