A Year in the Château

by Sarah Long

  ‘Your frock!’ said Leo. ‘I adore it, and teal is your perfect colour.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Fizz. ‘I thought a long dress was in keeping with our hippie commune and luckily they’re back in fashion.’

  ‘The best-dressed woman I ever knew told me her secret was never to throw anything anyway,’ said Leo. ‘Everything comes back in again, even those monstrous Eighties padded shoulders. They’re massive in Shoreditch.’

  ‘I needed to wear something colourful to cheer me up after the shock of seeing that horrible bathroom,’ said Fizz. ‘But I love your outfit too, Leo – you always look amazing.’

  ‘That’s kind of you but I look completely shattered this morning, wrecked by a sleepless night on account of it raining inside my room. Glad you like this little suitlet.’

  ‘What’s a suitlet?’

  ‘A teeny, tiny suit – look!’

  He held up his arms to show it off. ‘I’m dreading the return of baggy clothes; never happier than in a very tight jacket.’

  ‘And the cropped trousers are great with your bare ankles. Where did you get it?’

  ‘Topman. I think I’m their only customer over fifty.’

  ‘I can’t imagine Will shopping there. What’s for lunch?’

  ‘Something light, that’s as far as I’ve got.’

  In the kitchen, they assembled a watercress and orange salad, topped with slices of radish.

  ‘We can make toast from last night’s bread; waste not, want not,’ said Leo.

  Fizz took out her phone to Instagram the result.

  ‘Clean French salad,’ she said.

  ‘We’ve become terribly moralistic about food,’ said Leo. ‘Slow food, clean food, goody-goody food. Makes me long for a bit of fast and dirty.’

  ‘Let’s call them in, shall we?’ said Fizz.

  ‘I’m feeling too weak to shout out, but luckily I have just the thing.’

  He picked up a Victorian brass bell.

  ‘I unpacked it this morning. I bought it years ago but it was too noisy and unnecessary in a terraced house. You’d better ring it inside and out; I’m not sure where everybody is.’

  Fizz’s enthusiastic ringing brought everyone into the dining room.

  ‘Saved by the bell,’ said Simon, taking the seat at the head. ‘I was just wondering if I had time for another two hundred words but luckily not.’

  ‘Some of us have spent a more practical morning,’ said Mary, slipping off her pinny. ‘I’m sure I’ve already filled an entire hoover bag.’

  ‘Cleanliness is close to godliness,’ said Dougie. ‘I’ve been unpacking my books in the library – we should have an eclectic collection between us. Thank goodness Madame de Courcy left those steps – I would never have reached the top shelves without them. I believe it was Jorge Luis Borges who said he always imagined that paradise will be a kind of library. My friends, we are in paradise!’

  ‘The garden of Eden, in our case,’ said Beth, kicking off her wellington boots. ‘And we met Adam, or Jean-Louis as he calls himself, aka our friendly farmer. I have to warn you, Dom, he couldn’t take his eyes off Nicola. Or Nicorette, as he calls her, whereas I am the Beast. Bête, which also means stupid, I happen to know.’

  ‘Nicolette, actually,’ said Nicola. ‘And that’s nonsense, Beth, he was equally chivalrous to both of us.’

  ‘I’d better lock you up in Leo’s tower,’ said Dominic. ‘I can’t have him tempting you away from me with his irresistible French charm.’

  ‘No use,’ said Beth, ‘she’d just let down her hair and let her Gallic lover climb up to claim his prize.’

  ‘We need to talk about my tower,’ said Leo. ‘It’s a disaster, up there on the front line with only some broken old slates between me and the elements. It’s all right for you lot on the floor below, you’re protected from flooding by a corridor of servants’ rooms above you!’

  ‘I know, Leo,’ said Dominic, ‘I think we need to have an emergency meeting about it.’

  Simon sighed, bored at the mention of dreary repair works.

  ‘Here we are again,’ he said in a Geordie accent. ‘Day two in the Big Brother house and the housemates are sitting down to a frugal salad lunch.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ asked Mary.

  ‘It’s telly,’ said Simon. ‘If you wasted as many hours on it as the rest of us, you’d get the allusion.’

  ‘I might not have seen it but I know all about Big Brother,’ said Dougie. ‘It started out as a Dutch sociological experiment, but turned into a voyeuristic spectacle of couples writhing under infra-red lights.’

  ‘Is this the starter?’ asked Simon, changing the subject and staring at the meagre plate in front of him.

  ‘No, it’s your main,’ said Leo. ‘We can’t have two full meals a day, it’s not sustainable.’

  ‘Do I look like someone who can manage on a few leaves? I have a large frame to support.’

  ‘Fill up with toast,’ said Beth, passing him the basket. ‘Or better still, get your lazy arse in the kitchen and do the cooking yourself!’

  ‘Plenty more toast in the kitchen,’ said Fizz, ‘but I’m just having one piece.’

  ‘Un toast,’ said Beth. ‘I like how they say that.’ She put on a French accent. ‘I am having a toast, I am writing on a paper. Economical and precise.’

  ‘Glad to have you as our self-appointed French language expert,’ said Leo. ‘Remember you’re not the only one with a French degree.’

  ‘Don’t be waspish, I’m just sharing our knowledge. Anyway, we’ll all be bilingual soon, it’s only a matter of time.’

  ‘Sorry I’m late, everyone,’ said Will, walking briskly towards them. ‘I’ve just been mopping up upstairs. We noticed some water running down our bedroom wall last night, so I went up to the top floor to inspect the damage in the guest bedrooms. I think the roof is worse than we thought!’

  ‘It’s top of my list,’ said Dominic. ‘Actually, I was going to raise this with you all later but we might as well discuss it now, while we’re all assembled around the table.’

  The seriousness in his voice made them all look up.

  ‘The thing is . . .’ He paused, unwilling to deliver his bad news, then started again. ‘The thing is, I know we’ve drawn up some exciting plans for renovating this château, and believe me, no one is keener than me to get on with it, so we can live as we intended, in our luxury self-contained apartments, coming together in the shared spaces of our great salons. It will be fantastic, I promise you.’

  ‘I sense a “but” coming on,’ Simon interrupted.

  ‘You’re right, there’s a “but”. We all agreed, didn’t we, that there was no point in having a survey before we signed the papers. Waste of money, waste of time, we already knew there was work to be done.’

  ‘That’s true,’ said Nicola. ‘It’s not as if any of us was prepared to be the cautious, sensible one.’

  Dougie raised his hand. ‘If I can just interject here,’ he said, ‘you may recall at the time I declared it an act of unmitigated folly to buy a historical monument without undertaking a full structural survey.’

  ‘Yes, you did,’ said Beth. ‘And you then said, “It’s just as well we are a group of middle-aged people who are proud and ready to engage in an act of folly.”’

  Dougie looked annoyed and Simon grinned.

  ‘You didn’t exactly try to talk us out of it, Dougie!’ said Beth.

  ‘So,’ Dominic resumed, ‘the question of whether we should have had a survey is a moot point. We are where we are.’

  ‘I hate that expression,’ said Simon. ‘It’s about as meaningless as “Brexit means Brexit.” ’

  ‘Shut up, Simon,’ said Beth.

  ‘Judging from our experience last night, when a rainstorm persecuted Leo and practically flooded the top floor, my view is that we need to replace the roof before we think about any other alterations. There’s no point in doing anything else until we’ve fixed that problem. Any
internal decoration would be a complete waste of time.’

  There was a disgruntled silence around the table.

  ‘What about the bathrooms?’ said Fizz. ‘I honestly can’t see myself sharing that horrid old tub for more than a couple of weeks.’

  ‘All in the fullness of time,’ said Will soothingly. ‘We’ll get there, you’ll see.’

  ‘I notice you say replace the roof, not repair the roof,’ said Dougie. ‘That sounds frightfully expensive.’

  ‘Which is why it’s great there’s nine of us,’ said Dominic briskly. ‘Spread the load, remember the economy of scale. We bought this place for a song, knowing we’d have to allocate a substantial budget for repairs and renovation.’

  ‘Define “substantial budget”,’ said Dougie.

  ‘Yes, how much are we talking?’ Simon asked. ‘Disappointing use of funds. I was hoping to spend our chunk of the refurb money on more exciting projects, like converting one of the barns into a writing hut – that would suit me down to the ground.’

  ‘I don’t care what it costs, the roof has to be done,’ said Leo, ‘otherwise I’ll never sleep when it’s raining. I’ll become a forlorn ghost, drifting through the deserted wings of the château, hurling myself off the ramparts . . .’

  ‘Let’s not talk about money just now,’ said Nicola. ‘We are supposed to be in the honeymoon phase and this is beginning to sound like a divorce settlement.’

  ‘I quite agree,’ said Beth. ‘We need at least a couple of weeks of reckless enjoyment before we get practical. The early retirement party, whooping it up and reminding ourselves why we are here. Leo, can you cope for just another fortnight? We’ve got some partying to do before we turn into building bores, spending our evenings debating tiles and scaffolding.’

  ‘The Sybaritic delights of the nouveau pensioners,’ said Dougie. ‘I can go along with that.’

  ‘Oh look,’ said Mary, pushing her chair back to get a better view out of the window, ‘isn’t that Madame de Courcy? What’s she carrying?’

  They all left their seats and crowded round the window to take a look. The old lady was walking away from them towards the gates, holding her stick in one hand and a small, gilt chair with curved legs in the other.

  ‘Cheeky old bird!’ said Dominic. ‘That’s the chair from the entrance hall, one of the pieces she made us buy, as it was “inseparable from the château”!’

  ‘I have the evidence,’ said Fizz, who had snapped her on her phone.

  ‘Shall I run after her and arrest her for theft?’ said Simon.

  ‘No, leave her be,’ said Nicola. ‘I think we just have to accept as far as she is concerned, she is still mistress of the château.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ said Simon. ‘The next thing you know, she’ll be helping herself to the chandelier and all the light fittings. We’ll be plunged into darkness because Madame La Chatelaine thinks she can just come in here and strip us of our assets.’

  ‘If she really wants to remain a part of the château, she might like to contribute to our roof renovation fund,’ said Dougie. ‘Give back a portion of her sale money to ensure the continuity of the château – that’s very much in tune with her noble arguments.’

  ‘Good plan, Dougie,’ said Simon. ‘Why don’t you run after her now and suggest it?’

  ‘But on the other hand, I think I agree with Nicola,’ said Dougie. ‘We don’t want any unpleasantness and what is a small gilt chair between friends?’

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘I don’t know why Napoleon described the British as a nation of shopkeepers,’ said Leo, looking with pleasure at the contents of his wide wicker basket. ‘It’s the French, surely, who excel at that. Can you imagine finding a range of shops like these in a small English town?’

  It was two weeks since their arrival and he was on a shopping mission with Beth and Fizz. He had been sleeping better since putting himself on weather watch. Before going to bed each night, he checked the hourly forecast to see if it was going to rain. If so, he would decamp to his back-up bedroom, which he had identified as the only one on the attic floor that didn’t suffer from the leaky roof.

  This morning they had just stocked up on cheese at the fromagerie on the high street, encouraged by the knowledgeable owner who took delight in explaining the provenance of all her products. Her descriptions were so detailed that it took them half an hour to make their selection, and another fifteen minutes of conversation ensued when she learned that they were the new château dwellers and wanted to hear all about it.

  ‘God, I thought we’d never get out of there,’ said Fizz. ‘Did you notice those people behind us in the queue, ears flapping when she was asking about what our relationship was? I thought she was really nosy, asking so many personal questions.’

  ‘She was merely showing an interest, that’s what people do in the country, unlike in the cold city where nobody cares,’ said Leo. ‘I thought she was charming, and you can see why she might presume Beth and I were your parents.’

  He held his basket up to show her the cheeses, each lovingly wrapped in its own paper.

  ‘Look at that beautiful display. My favourite is the oval-shaped soft sheep’s cheese with a Japanese leaf running through the middle.’

  ‘It certainly beats a slab of cheddar in plastic,’ said Beth. ‘Which reminds me of the last time we shared a fridge. Leo, do you remember?’

  ‘In that horrible flat when we were students! We had a shelf each and had to write our name on our individual cartons of milk. Those big northern boys became very upset if we put anything in their allotted territory.’

  ‘And we used to play kill-the-slug. Pouring salt over them as they crawled up the kitchen wall, then watching them dissolve.’

  ‘How cruel!’ said Fizz. ‘And how could you have slugs inside the flat?’

  ‘I think our student housing was probably a little lower budget than yours, Fizz,’ said Beth. But she smiled all the same, remembering those early days when she’d first met Nicola and Leo. How Simon, then at Nicola’s side, had always made a night out into a party; how they’d managed to have the best of times with no money, no jobs but the luxury of time on their side. Hopefully those days were coming back. But with fewer slugs this time around.

  ‘It was quite horrid,’ said Leo. ‘We didn’t like our flatmates so we never cooked together. We each used to open our own can of soup and eat it sitting on our individual beds.’

  ‘Not like now, when we’re enjoying the proper benefits of cooperative living and the sensuous delights of a luxurious table,’ said Beth.

  ‘True! A tragic single person like me could never justify buying a cheeseboard like this. It would just sit there, rotting away.’

  ‘I’m not sure Dougie will approve when we present him with the bill,’ said Beth.

  ‘He’ll be happy with our bargain wine boxes, though. Bogof bag-in-box. Sorry, un acheté, un offert – sounds much better in French.’

  As a self-proclaimed miser, Dougie had been appointed keeper of the purse strings. They all chipped into the housekeeping fund with only a certain amount of misgiving about who was eating and drinking more. Dougie couldn’t help noticing how quickly the wine was going down and insisted they move on to les bags-in-box. There was no poetry in wine boxes, he agreed, but it was so much cheaper, and at least there wasn’t the shameful tally of bottles to dispose of every evening.

  ‘Oh, look at those darling little tomatoes,’ said Fizz, stopping by the artfully displayed boxes outside the greengrocer’s. ‘We must get some.’ She stopped to take close-up photos of them, no doubt soon to be found on Instagram.

  They followed her in and watched the shopkeeper weighing out two sprays of the smallest cherry tomatoes, arranged like orchid flowers on their stems.

  ‘Shall we put the kids through college or shall we buy some tomatoes?’ Beth whispered to Leo as she was handed the bill.

  ‘They are especially for me,’ said Fizz. ‘Remember I don’t drink so I dese
rve some other treats to balance it out. Dougie will think it’s perfectly fair.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Beth, giving Fizz a supportive squeeze. ‘Fizz, it’s probably no surprise that I was a little bit concerned about how you and I would get along – I mean, I’m about as far away from being a health guru as you can be – but I owe you an apology. You’re a breath of fresh air and I think we’re going to get along a treat.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Fizz, high-fiving her. ‘You’re a great example of a sassy older woman, Beth. You’ve got a lot about you and I’m going to feature you heavily in my vlogging, if that’s OK with you. This is what a fifty-something woman looks like, guys!’

  Beth paused. Was that a compliment or a dig? She decided she’d better give Fizz the benefit of the doubt. ‘Finally I’m getting the recognition I deserve,’ said Beth. ‘How many followers do you have?’

  Fizz looked defensive.

  ‘I don’t like to talk numbers. It’s mostly friends and family at the moment. But it’s literally only just launched; you wait and see.’

  ‘I have faith in you,’ said Beth. ‘And with me in a starring role, how can it fail?’

  Leo was studying the receipts as he filed them into the housekeeping purse.

  ‘Two hundred and sixteen euros all in,’ he said. ‘Not bad for that car full of food and these exquisite little treats. I don’t think Dougie can argue with that.’

  ‘Very reasonable,’ said Beth. ‘None of us want to fall into the trap of arguing about money. It’s the most common cause of marriage breakdown and that’s what we’re in, isn’t it? A sort of group marriage.’

  ‘Not really!’ said Fizz. ‘That sounds so unappealing.’

  ‘Sounds unappealing to me too,’ said Leo, ‘but we’re not talking about the messy side of marriage, only the companionship.’

  ‘That’s even worse! Companions sounds like when old people pay carers to look after them.’

  ‘Why do you think we invited you along?’ said Beth. ‘You’ll be helping us all to the toilet before long.’

  ‘Haha!’ said Fizz, not quite hiding the grimace that flashed across her face. She gave her phone to Leo.