Sense and French Ability (11 page)

“Thank you,” Fliss said.

The music changed to a French track that everyone seemed to know and a large circle formed. Jean Chri and someone else took hold of Fliss’ hands and dragged her into the ring. A man stood alone in the centre. With the music, the circle moved around him. At a change in the tempo of the tune he grabbed a girl and together they knelt on one knee then the other. They kissed cheeks and a cheer went up from the circle. He left her on her own and the process was repeated with her choosing a man. Everyone laughed and cheered at the appropriate time.

As it finished, Fliss pushed her hair off her face and said “Phew!”

“Shall we have a drinks break?” Jean Chri raised his eyebrows again with the question and put his head to one side. With still no sign of Jo so they moved across to the bar and he bought her a glass of wine. She found it impossible not to be swept along in the mood of general exuberance. They grabbed chairs outside in the fresh air and collapsed for a breather. Fliss looked up at the sky, which had darkened since they went in to dance.

“With no street lights it’s so dark. It’s possible to see millions of stars. I am so tiny and insignificant,” she said.

“Not that,” he added, “never that.”

Fliss glanced across at him before smiling gently into the night.

They finished their drinks in companionable silence. He tilted his head in a silent question again and she nodded with a smile. They headed back to the dancing.

Jo arrived.

“Hello,” she greeted them.

“Oh. Hi! Is everything OK?” Fliss asked her.

“Absolutely. Mmm, very OK,” she answered with an accompanying wink and a smile.

Harriet joined them too. Along with Pascal, his wife, Amélie and Jean Chri they spent time dancing. A call for the local folk dance rose again and they formed the circle. Having been called into the middle by Pascal first, Fliss selected an older man for safety. Another grey-haired man soon called her. She was the new attraction and a novelty with her accented French. Later still Jean Chri danced in the middle. They moved around smiling and laughing. The familiar tune changed tempo. Fliss felt her heart thump with anticipation, much against her better nature. Who would Jean Chri choose? The music ended. She realised she felt swindled.

A pop and a crackle emanated from the sky.

“Come, come and see outside.” Melodie arrived, pulling urgently on her Dad’s hand as they all rushed outside so as not to miss the fireworks.

“What a great day,” Jo whispered to Fliss in a deferential voice. Fliss looked at her. Her friend did not usually speak in that way.

“I agree,” Fliss replied, glancing from the sky to see her friend’s face lit by the firework that had shot upwards with brilliance.

At that moment Jo peeped across at Harriet standing on her other side and a strange notion crossed Fliss’ mind.

Finally the late hour demanded that they all headed home.

“Madame Marie said she would leave the back door open for us. She retired much earlier. She’s been to many of these. Time to say good-night.” Fliss sighed. “These people are becoming my good friends.”

Jean Chri and Fliss exchanged a kiss on each cheek as she did with Pascal, Amélie, Harriet and several others. His lips were warm and dry and he squeezed her shoulder. She caught a gentle smell of wine and wood smoke from the barbecue. Why did she notice these details and yet think Pascal’s or Amélie’s mouths unremarkable?

Parents scooped children up from chairs and corners with cushions where some of them had dropped asleep.

*

The next day Fliss and Jo spent a couple of hours at the Salle helping to tidy up. Few people came. Most of the men were out on their farms, making the most of the dry weather. The rest of the day was theirs. The weather was still fine so they took the car and drove out of the village with a picnic, aiming for the pleasant spot Fliss had found before, where the rivers met and tumbled between the steep valley sides.

They travelled in comparative silence. It seemed that they both had things to contemplate, and were tired. When they arrived, Fliss parked up and they lifted the blanket and the cool bag from the back of the car. The idyllic spot and the noise from the water were simultaneously both sensational and calming.

Jo stretched, shook her head and spread the blanket. Fliss took in the wild flowers that covered the grass. Birds sang unseen among the ash trees that grew so profusely and the noise; always the noise of water rushing. After kicking off their shoes, they both collapsed and lay side by side, eyes closed against the strong sun. Fliss’s whole body sank into the ground as she relaxed.

“This is beautiful. Just what we need today,” Jo said.

As they lay, she brought up the subject that Fliss expected from her. She heard her question but listened to the water rolling and tossing before she took the plunge into the conversation.

“There is nothing going on between us,” Fliss stated. “Nor will there be. He’s still married.”

“Married? You didn’t tell me that.”

“Yes. His wife has left him. They say she’s not coming back, but he’s still married. She might return, yet, anyway. Who knows? People are conservative around here. A married man carrying on with someone else, especially someone English would not go down well. I don’t need that kind of aggravation when I might well be starting to run my own business. I am not interested.”

“Not interested? You’re joking! I saw you last night. Not interested, my foot.” Jo wasn’t having it.

“He’s arrogant, conceited,” Fliss maintained, “And as I said – he’s married, so forget it.”

Chapter 11

Jo arriving and the ducasse with the good food, games and dancing all made for a good weekend. Fliss enjoyed every minute. As her friend left, Fliss had plenty to contemplate and reflect upon. Not least the answer to Jo’s searching question about Jean Chri. The three month period of probation with Madame Marie was nearly up. Whilst Fliss had no need to make any major decisions regarding changes to her status in that department, the time would come when she would need to make a firm commitment.

Later the following week, Madame Marie asked if she could have a word. With trepidation, Fliss sat opposite her at the dining table.

“This sounds serious,” Fliss said with a smile that belied her unease.

“No, no,” Madame answered. “I thought I would like to go and visit my sister. She keeps asking me and I haven’t been for a long time. It’s becoming more difficult to keep saying no.”

“Oh!” Fliss exhaled. “I imagined you asking me to leave.”

“Why on earth would you think that?” Madame Marie asked. “Have I told you your work is below standard? No. Have I suggested things are not happy here? I hope not.”

“No you haven’t.” Fliss said with a sigh of relief. “Not at all. It’s just that my probation is coming to an end soon. I’m being silly and a little insecure.”

“When I return, if it’s alright for me to go, we shall talk about that. In the mean-time you will have to look after the guests on your own. This will be the first time that the full responsibility will be yours. There is no doubt you will do well. How are you with that?”

“Oh, Madame Marie, I’ll not let you down. The good name of this business will be safe with me,” Fliss said.

“Well, I shall contact my sister and let her know I’ll come. Would Monday suit you?”

“Absolutely. How long will you be gone?”

“It’s a long way so I should like to go for about two weeks. Would that be too long?”

“Not at all,” replied Fliss. “I shall look at the bookings diary now and if any more come in I will note everything.”

With that, she flitted to the drawer near the telephone and extracted the diary, full of excitement. She fingered the warmth and roughness of its worn leather cover with something akin to ownership. This was a real chance for her to shine and she felt confident that all would be well. When Madame Marie returned they would discuss whether Fliss would take over the business when Marie was ready to go. It dawned on Fliss that perhaps Madame Marie had devised this as a little test for her, and she smiled to herself. Well, test or not, she would enjoy the challenge and rise to it with exhilaration.

So far there were only a couple of bookings written in, each for one night, but both wanted the evening meal. That would all be easy to cope with. The nature of the business meant that bookings came at the last minute. Often people wanted a one or two night stop on their way further south. All would be fine.

*

The same morning that Madame Marie left two phone calls occurred, with each customer demanding a similar request.

Fliss took her mentor to the station in her car and returned after a one hour round trip. As she tidied up the breakfast things, the phone rang for the first time.

“
Bonjour
,” she answered.

“Excuse me, do you speak English?” The voice at the other end asked with a tenor of trepidation.

“Yes, I do. I am English,” Fliss smiled to herself, remembering her first call when Madame had spoken reasonable English to her and she had replied with passable but under-confident French.

“That’s a relief. We wondered if you have a room for two nights. The only thing is we have a dog. He’s well-behaved though.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Fliss answered. “We don’t take dogs.”

“Oh dear, I’m having such a problem. No-one seems to take dogs in your region.”

“It’s not a French thing to have dogs in the house,” Fliss explained. “Most dogs are for hunting and if they are pets they usually live outside in a kennel.”

“Oh dear,” repeated the caller. “Well thanks anyway.”

Fliss ended the call and went back to the kitchen to load the dishwasher.

A couple of hours later, by chance, another call came with the same requirement. This was not a request that Fliss experienced before but maybe Madame Marie had. After all, she took the calls more often.

Fliss started to repeat her answer from before but she stopped. “What sort of dog is it?”

“He’s small and well-behaved,” came the answer. “We’ll bring his own bed and we would bring his food. He hardly ever barks. You wouldn’t know he was there. We are having such trouble finding somewhere that would take him,” the voice pleaded.

On the spur of the moment Fliss made an independent decision.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll take him but you would need to leave extra deposit in case there is damage, I’m afraid.”

“That’s fine, I quite understand,” said the caller.

Fliss took down all the details and filled the booking in the diary. As she put the phone down she mentally crossed her fingers that all would be fine. She promised Madame Marie that she would not shatter the good name of the business. However, it would be worse if something was chewed up or peed upon.

‘I hope there’s no damage.’ Her sudden fears surfaced in the bedroom some hours later.

It played on her mind, but Fliss was keen to implement changes to bring the business up to date.

The first guests, a lovely older couple, were on their way to Limoges. They complimented Fliss about the house and their room as well as the food she provided. As she waved them goodbye she was pleased with herself. A couple of days later she expected the couple with the well-behaved little dog.

*

Having prepared the room, and since the menu was also ready, there were about two hours to spare before the couple arrived with their dog. She decided to go down the road to see Jerome. She hadn’t spoken to him since the ducasse. He was so kind when she arrived, and Fliss didn’t want him to assume that she moved into the ‘hate Jerome’ camp because she lived with Madame Marie.

She opened the door, called “
Bonjour
, hello,” and advanced to the bar. “
Bonjour
Jerome,” she called again. She became aware of footsteps.

“Fliss! How good to see you. We haven’t seen you for a while. I wondered, perhaps, you are like this with me?” He touched his two index fingers together to indicate bad friendship between two people as he had done before when she visited with Harriet. It seemed to be his standard response if he didn’t see someone for more than a week.

“Absolutely not, Jerome,” Fliss reassured him. “I’ve been so busy. How have things been for you since the ducasse?”

“Mmm, mixed,” he said. “Wait while I put on a pan of water and we’ll take a coffee.”

“How come - mixed?” Fliss asked. She knew him well enough now, so felt comfortable following him into the kitchen. “The meal was such a success!”

“I took several compliments, but M. Demille made a point of coming in and saying ‘because you’ve done one good meal, doesn’t mean things are going well for you!’ I asked him what he meant and he went on about Éric living here and other stuff.” Jerome said, waving the comments away with one hand.

Fliss remembered Madame Marie referring to the company that Jerome kept.

Éric wandered in, so Fliss kissed him hello. He was out in the garden hoeing weeds from between the carrots, and he glowed with warmth, but he wore a woolly hat.

“It’s keeping the sun off my head,” he explained. Jerome shook his head and smiled as he indicated they should go through and sit down.

“Remember, you have good friends here,” Fliss said.

“I do. You and Harriet are very good friends, and so kind,” he said.

“Lots of people still come to eat, too, French and Dutch as well as English,” Fliss reminded him. She glanced across at Éric, who followed them and sat at the table. He put his head down and dozed.

“It’s his medication,” Jerome explained.

Fliss looked at him. ‘He has a lot to cope with.’

She said, “I’m afraid I can’t stay long. I shall have to get back soon. Madame Marie is away and I have visitors coming.” Fliss glanced at her wristwatch.

“So you’re in charge are you?” Jerome asked. “Is this you taking over? Will she be leaving soon?” He continued, with optimistic tone.

“Oh, I’m not sure yet,” Fliss smiled in response. “There is a lot to sort out first.”

“I hope so,” Jerome stated with force. “That would be one less person spreading unsavoury rumours about me and my business. I wouldn’t compete with you, Fliss.”

“No I don’t think you would. We serve different needs here.”

“I’ve considered giving up, though,” Jerome reiterated. “There is so much bickering and I’m getting very fed up with it.”

“I seriously hope that you don’t do that,” Fliss said. “The village benefits from having a business here in many different ways. Now, I must go. Don’t do anything impulsive!” she added and leaned in to give him a kiss on his unshaven cheek.

“Wait one minute,” he said, and disappeared in a hurry. When he returned he carried a bag of eggs for her.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “You really are kind.”

As she hurried back up the road, clutching her bag of eggs carefully, Jean Chri turned out of his yard in his tractor. They exchanged waves and smiles. Fliss had not seen much of him either since the ducasse. She could see his yard and the front of the house from the front windows of Madame Marie’s house, so she’d seen the tractor coming and going to work. Fliss had seen him to say hello when she went down to collect the post one day, and they had also met when she was out on one of her walks around the village during a spare afternoon. He had been with someone else at that time, so there was no real chance to exchange more than a polite greeting.

Fliss had time to get home and place the eggs in the bowl on the work-top when she heard a knock at the door.

“Hell’s bells,” she said out loud to herself. “They’re not here already,” she muttered, in case the person at the front door could hear her.

She planned to give the room a once over to make sure everything was correct and then run through her menu for the evening in her mind before the guests arrived.

‘Oh well!’

Everything should be fine; she had planned it all to the nth degree. There was time to hope desperately that the dog behaved itself as she opened the heavy front door.

As she greeted Mr. and Mrs. Jarvis with her hand out-stretched on the step, the dog yapped at her.

“Bizzy, stop that,” snapped Mrs. Jarvis back. “I’m so sorry. He never normally does that and here’s me told you how quiet and good he is.” The poor lady smiled apologetically.

“Come in,” Fliss said, standing back and plastering a smile on her face. She so hoped that she wasn’t making a gigantic error.

*

When Madame Marie returned, the house still stood and all seemed calm and secure. Fliss collected her from the station but in the car they both refrained from talking about how Fliss coped during the absence. Madame Marie did not want to appear over-anxious and Fliss had not wanted to share her experiences of Maisie, the dog, until the moment seemed right. Instead, the conversation veered towards Madame’s holiday with her sister, and the things they had done together. In fact, Madame Marie was voluble. She’d had a much better time than she expected, and was sorry to say goodbye when the time had come

“I found it both restful and enjoyable,” she said.

She told Fliss of the places they visited and the people she had met. In fact, she hardly stopped talking about it all the way home.

Having pulled into the driveway and parked the car, Fliss carried the bags up the steps and into the hallway outside Madame’s bedroom door while Madame Marie went to hang up her coat. After the coffee machine had done its stuff and they sat at the table together and spoke of how Fliss had coped.

“Yes, I took several bookings,” Fliss answered the question from Madame Marie.

“So tell me all,” Madame said. “How did it go?”

“Everything’s fine. There have been no complaints and in fact two emails arrived that were complimentary.”

Fliss could not put off the moment any longer. She confessed about the dog before someone else told. Madame would likely hear from an old gossip that Fliss had accepted such a booking. She never understood exactly how, but all things became plain to all people in this village. There could never be a secret.

“Actually one of the couples brought a little dog to stay with them,” Fliss stated boldly. She learned that to be confident with Madame Marie was always the best policy.

“What? Not in the house surely!” The old lady’s tight, grey curls shook as her head wobbled a little shudder.

“She was small and behaved impeccably. You must come and see the room,” Fliss reassured. “I took several enquiries about whether we took dogs and I declined all the others. Do you get many such requests?”

“I often do from the English and sometimes from Dutch people too,” she replied. Fliss was not at all sure how the conversation was going.