by Karen Abbott
When at last she was able to share her objective with him, Xavier made no objection to the proposal.
“The more variety, the better,” he agreed. “Now, why don’t you sit down and I’ll sketch your portrait whilst you are here? Have you time?”
“At the speed that you do your sketches, yes!” she laughed, sitting on the stool recently vacated by the previous satisfied client. “Don’t you get fed up of drawing portraits all day long?”
“I don’t do it all day long. When I have had enough, I either do some other work whilst people browse around my studio … or I close shop and travel around the island looking for more inspiration.”
His glance flickered from Dani’s face to his easel as he spoke, the thin stick of charcoal in his fingers seeming to dart here and there across the sheet of paper. He smiled his attractive, lazy smile that Dani knew had melted Lys’ heart.
“It is a self-indulgent life I have,” he continued companionably. “I go where my spirit leads me, doing what fills my heart. Besides, I expect Lys has told you, this is only a temporary occupation. My real love of painting is in acrylics … a more expressive medium, I feel, involving textures and depth. That demands sacrifice of emotion and the emptying of my soul. I tend to lock myself away when creating work like that. It is not for public spectacle.”
“Like the picture of the storm over the cornfields in your studio? It quite took my breath away.”
“Ah, you like it? I saw that just before I met Lys … just after a tremendous clap of thunder and that vivid flash of lightning rent the air.” He grinned in amusement. “Or maybe it was a ‘coup de foudre’ in my heart!”
He nodded appreciatively at the memory and Dani, knowing the phrase ‘a bolt of lightning’ was also an idiom for ‘love at first sight’, felt she had seen a glimpse of his love for her friend in the reminiscence in his eyes. She felt a pang of longing for someone to feel like that about her … and knew it was yet to come. A momentary flicker of memory of Alex’s face disturbed her mind but it was gone before she had time to dwell on its relevance. There were too many complications there … the most recent being his sudden closing-in of himself after his switching off of the news item last night. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to dig beneath the surface … in spite of the feral attraction that his presence aroused within her.
“Voila!” Xavier announced with a flourish, spraying the fixative over his sketch and whipping it off his easel. “Here you are, mademoiselle!”
Dani took the sketch and studied it critically. He had captured the essence of her character, neither flattering nor faultfinding but showing her as she was.
“I like it,” she nodded, standing up and fiddling with the clasp of her shoulder bag to get out her purse.
Xavier waved his hand, dismissing her gesture.
“It is my pleasure, Dani. You are a friend. Please accept it as my gift to you.”
“That’s kind of you. Thank you. May I leave it here until Lys comes in her car later? She said I was to ask you to come for supper. She wants to work late, to get as much as possible of the renovated machinery installed in the windmill before the weekend. We’ve already had a few tentative enquiries about when it will be open to the public.”
Xavier agreed and, gratified by his friendship, she then sauntered around the other studios, speaking to each of the artists and craftsmen and women of what they could offer. The maker of silver jewellery wanted only to offer items already made … but the potter, the watercolour artist and the artisan who fashioned all manner of things in glass were willing to create items specifically related to the windmill.
Marcel, the potter, was especially enthusiastic, suggesting a number of ideas … from model windmills of varying sizes, with sails that would revolve at a touch of the finger or a puff of wind, to 3D wall-mounts and bowls. In fact, he was still pouring out suggestions when he realised that the other artisans were closing their exhibitions for the lunchtime break and he invited Dani to accompany him to a local café for a lunch of local cured ham and a basket of French fries.
It was while waiting for the order to be served that Dani caught sight of the headline in a newspaper being read by another customer at the next table. It read, ‘Copy-cat raid of Oleron bank-snatch kills clown impersonator.’
Dani caught her breath. That was what Alex hadn’t wanted his son to see! One of the bank-raiders, dressed as a clown had been shot by the police after a tip-off. But, how had Alex known about it? ... known that it would be included in the news item? The information had only just been released, the newscaster had said.
Had Alex been present? A customer in the bank when it happened? Was that the town where his business meeting had taken place? But why hadn’t mentioned it? Had he been afraid it would lead to more questions from Christian?
It was none of her business, she reflected, nonetheless relieved to have an acceptable reason for his sharpness. Having sole charge of a young child couldn’t be easy. He must miss his wife very much.
“So, is that all right by you?” she suddenly heard Marcel ask.
“Pardon? Sorry! I was miles away! What was it you said?”
“I asked if I might visit the windmill, to get a good idea of its style and character,” Marcel patiently repeated.
“Yes, of course. In fact, why not come with Xavier to supper tonight? I’m trying out a new recipe I found on a postcard, Moules a Basquaise. Do you like mussels?”
“I like anything to do with food,” he replied with a grin. “I’ll bring a bottle of wine, shall I?”
“Great! Lys will come for you both about eight o’clock. That should give you enough time to look over the place and sketch some dimensions et cetera. It’ll look better when the sails are fixed but I want to press on with things as much as I can and I’m sure you’ll be able to imagine what it will look like.”
Well-pleased with her morning’s work, Dani cycled back to Le Deu via Le Grand Village, where she made the self-guided tour of the reconstructed mediaeval farmstead with the help of a printed leaflet. There was a small display of Oleronaise costumes of the previous centuries, the multi-layers of clothes … red flannel to protect from cold and rheumatism, covered by a white cotton layer and then a multi-coloured striped overskirt … bearing out Lys’s assessment of the winter cold! Life had been simple … and hard work, with only very basic machinery to ease the load. Clothes had been handed down from generation to generation, both men women receiving a new outfit only on the occasion of their marriage … and, thereafter, to be worn only on public occasions, until their eventual burial in it. How different it had been from today when most people had a wardrobe full of clothes!
Even in summer, the islanders had been well-covered with long skirts and voluminous blouses…this time to be protected from the heat of the sun. The poke bonnets called ‘Quichenots’ protected the women as much from unseemly physical contact from amorous men folk as from the skin-darkening danger of the sun! Dani smiled as she remembered Lys telling her that the English soldiers who came to the island after its liberation from German occupation during World War II had called the bonnets ‘Kiss-Me-Nots’. How like the British to anglicize foreign words they didn’t understand into something they were familiar with.
Dani recognised much of the kitchen equipment and tools on display as still being in use in Etienne Dupont’s cottage, reinforcing her idea of persuading Lys to make the cottage an extension to the working-windmill project. There was the simple, shallow stone sink with an outlet pipe straight through the wall; the basic stove heated by the fire; butter presses; tall poles for the drying of fish; and the high bread shelf on top of another pole to keep the bread safe from children and mice!
The leaflet was also helpful in guiding her thoughts to the kind of information visitors would want to read about the past history of the windmill and its place in the village community during its productive years. Etienne had already related some of his previously-dormant memories to her and she knew there would be many
more forth-coming with very little persuasion. He was a natural storyteller, painting vivid pictures with his choice of words. She could easily imagine him, on cold winter nights, entertaining his friends and neighbours with his tales.
Having taken in what she could of the farmstead, she made her way back to Le Deu, knowing she would return time and again. The curator wished them well with their project and asked for some leaflets when they were ready. Each new business that brought tourists into the area could only be of benefit to the rest.
Dani called at the Patisserie to buy some long French sticks and some ciabatta bread that madame Giraud had earlier promised to save under the counter.
“You’re sure you don’t want to join us?” Dani asked, having taken an instant liking to the homely woman.
“We wouldn’t dream of it, Dani! Etienne and I will do very nicely here, thank you. We’re not so old that we’ve forgotten what it’s like to be young!”
Dani laughed and said she was sure they hadn’t. She thought the couple got on remarkably well together, though Lys denied that there was any middle-aged romance going on under their noses! Dani wasn’t so convinced … though she didn’t argue the point with her friend.
Etienne was there at the windmill when she returned home. His animated face showed his joy at seeing the windmill come to life in front of him. There were tears in his eyes as he gazed up into the conical roof-space, seeing the strong wooden beams that supported the huge wooden shaft of oak, the axle from the centre of the sails to the first cog in the system of gears that would eventually, one day soon, set the millstone grinding again.
He had already taken apart, polished and re-assembled the small working-model he had made years ago for Lys … and had explained in minute detail to Dani how the system worked. She felt as excited as he did as she now saw it all coming together, sharing the disappointment that it couldn’t be completed today.
“The light will go before it could be finished,” Lys commiserated with them. “They’re coming back tomorrow at eight o’clock in the morning, so no lying in bed tomorrow for any of us!”
Once the workmen had stopped for the day and Etienne had ambled back to his temporary lodgings, Lys drove to Le Château to pick-up Xavier and Marcel, leaving Dani to scrub the mussels and remove their beards; chop an onion and a clove of garlic; peel and chop some tomatoes; and grate some breadcrumbs … ready to be cooked in half a litre of white wine when Xavier and Marcel had spent as much time as they needed looking at the windmill whilst there was still enough light left to do so.
As it happened, Lys was so excited about relating every aspect of the renovations to them all, she insisted that Dani included herself in the impromptu conducted tour and, along with Xavier and Marcel, Dani obediently followed her throughout the three floors of the windmill and listened intently to all the information lovingly imparted.
It was interesting and Dani stored a great many details in her mind to be brought out later when she was editing and finalising the drafts of the various leaflets in her charge. Marcel, seeing and hearing it for the first time, had many spontaneous questions to ask which elicited yet more information and Dani recognised in his face the enthusiasm of creativity that was buzzing about in his head.
Lys was delighted with Marcel’s response and included Dani and Xavier in her expressed appreciation. The four of them were standing in a close group, arms loosely along each others’ shoulders as they gazed back at the windmill, each with his or her own thoughts of its imminent new birth.
“It really is going to be a success, isn’t it?” Lys stated rather than asked, her face glowing as she sought assurance her three companions.
“Certainement!”
“Bien sur!”
“Of course!”
The three spoke in unison, just as Dani sensed, rather than saw or heard, a car pulling up behind them. She twisted her head round and instantly recognised it as Alex’s car. She lifted her hand from Marcel’s shoulder to wave a welcome, frowning slightly as Alex’s face lost its glow.
Alex instantly reproved himself for the slight twinge of pique he felt at seeing Dani’s arms entwined around the shoulders of a man much nearer in age to Dani than he himself was. The girl was entitled to have a boyfriend, wasn’t she? It would be most unusual if she didn’t. She was attractive to look at and with a lively personality. If he had started to think that she was waiting around for him to make a rare visit, it was to his own detriment, not hers!
And why had he felt the need to explain his brusqueness of the previous evening? Dani probably hadn’t even noticed how swiftly he had reacted to the news item. Why should she? It was just one of many disturbing daily events of modern life!
Maybe he should have been more open with her from the start? On the other hand … ? His eyes narrowed as he took in the two young men, his gaze lingering on Xavier, then back to the other man. Was Xavier Monsigny’s presence on the island as innocent as Dani and Lys believed? Or was there a more sinister reason? Under the circumstances, perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to get too involved with Dani! He shelved his half-formed intention of inviting her out for a drink. Things were best left as they were!
He raised his right hand in a casual wave and switched off the engine. It was as good a time as any to be introduced to Xavier Monsigny and his fellow artist … for that was what he seemed. Who knows, a few discreet questions might save time and manpower later.
“Hello, there!” he greeted the quartet, his smile warmly encompassing them all. “Hi, Dani! I was just passing by and wondered how far along the windmill project is coming. There’s a lot less stuff out here … so I conclude it’s been installed in place?”
“All but the sails!” Lys agreed, performing the necessary introductions between the men, waiting before saying more as they shook hands.
“Are you local?” Alex asked Marcel casually.
“No … a summer visitor … bringing my skills with me, like the rest of our crowd.”
“Your crowd?”
“The artisans at the port. And yourself?”
“From Dijon originally … but lately from Paris,” Alex replied, adding before asked, “I’m here with my young son, trying to mix work with holiday before he starts school.”
“Not easy!” Lys sympathised, knowing of his child-minding problems from Dani.
“No,” he agreed lightly. “I’m getting to be a good ‘juggler’ of time and resources!”
He turned his attention to the two men. “Did you all know each other before you came here? Dani tells me you’re a friendly bunch,” he added, hoping he didn’t sound too patronising.
He smiled at Dani and then studied the exterior aspect of the windmill, making his question sound more like a casual remark more than a serious enquiry.
“Free spirits, the lot of us!” Marcel commented casually. “No roots … no chains.”
His eyes seemed to seek Dani’s and Alex wondered if he were trying to tell her something. He probably fancied her like mad! Was the feeling shared, he wondered, recognising in himself a lingering resurgence of adolescent jealousy.
Dani, however, disentangled herself from the group, announcing lightly, “I’m going to start to cook supper.”
“Want any help?” Marcel asked.
“No, thanks. It’s all prepared. What about you, Alex? Can you stay? There’s enough to go round. I bought plenty.”
He appreciated her inclusion of him but wasn’t sure he wanted to spend the evening warring with Marcel for her favours. She probably thought him too old for her, anyway … which he was, if he were entirely honest and less self-centred! And hadn’t he already decided, like Marcel … no entanglements?
Even so, his smile held genuine regret for his refusal. “Thanks for the invitation. I appreciate it … but I must get back home. Madame Toussaint will be getting anxious … and, as you know, Christian likes me home before he goes to bed. May I bring him to see the windmill when it is up and running? He is pestering me continually about
it!”
“Of course! In fact we’re going to have an opening ceremony,” Lys interrupted. “You must come to that … and your kind neighbour. The more, the merrier!”
Dani watched from the kitchen window as Alex departed, a curious mixture of emotions in her heart. Wasn’t that what she wanted? Hadn’t Marcel put it succinctly … no roots … no chains? She wasn’t ready for the chains of instant motherhood, was she?
Better to leave well alone!
So why did her heart feel so desolate as the car disappeared from sight?
Chapter 6
It took three days to assemble the four sails and attach them securely to the main shaft that turned the first cog. The huge wooden rudder was then fitted to the opposite side of the conical roof, so that the roof could be painstakingly manhandled around the three hundred and sixty degrees of the compass until the sails were in the best position to catch the wind.
“And this might have to be done any number of times a day, depending on the fickleness of the wind!” Etienne commented.
His words might have been taken as a grumble … until the expression of pride on his face or in his voice was noticed! Dani had never seen him so animated.
“At least I now know why there are two doors into the windmill!” she declared with a laugh.
“It’s far better than having to dodge the sails on your way in or out!” Lys agreed. “You’ll notice we always keep one door locked!”
Etienne was almost dancing in delight when the younger men hauled the roof around with the heavy rudder.
“A bit more!” he cried. “Back a bit! Ah! Hold it!”
The martinet, a wood and iron contraption that acted like an anchor of a sailing ship, was secured by a length of stout rope to the lower end of the rudder and was itself looped over one of the two dozen short, stubby posts driven into the ground around the circumference of the windmill, securely holding the set of the sails.
