French Cuisine Can Kill You

by Rebecca Dunsmuir

  "Hello? Is there anybody here?"

  Below a stool placed by the bed, a porcelain teacup rolled on the floor. Amanda picked it up. The chipped cup had pink and purple flowers painted on it, and traces of scratched letters written in gold on one side. Amanda could only guess that one of them was an 'O,' probably for Orvilly. She glanced around the room, looking for the rest of the porcelain tea set, but didn't see anything. "What is this cup doing here?" she whispered.

  Maybe she could find the rest of the set in the kitchen? But her last visit there had not been the most pleasant one. Amanda called d'Artagnan who was still intrigued by the doll house. The dog walked toward her and sat in front of her, suddenly docile. Is it the moment? Are you going to give me my surprise now?

  "D'Artagnan, now's the time to show me that you do love me, and not only because I feed you. You must show me that you can protect me too. We're going to the kitchen."

  Did you say 'kitchen?' I'm in!

  Amanda slowly went down the steps that lead to the kitchen, but stopped at the last one. D'Artagnan pushed her to the side with his head and came straight into the room, sniffing every corner with great enthusiasm. Even if this kitchen hadn't been used for a long time, the dog could still smell food. He looked at Amanda who was still standing on the last step, hesitant, wondering why she had suddenly become scared of kitchens. Come in! It's just a kitchen. What's wrong with you?

  Finally, Amanda went down the last step. She opened a large cupboard on her left where she found pans, pots, utensils, and several dinnerware sets, but no porcelain tea set.

  She turned around and saw a closed door in a corner. The corner where she had seen the human shape standing. She felt chills running all over her skin and stared at the door for a few seconds. It was locked with a big chain. Should she unlock this door or not? Mustering up her courage and trusting that her dog would defend her if something were to happen, Amanda grabbed the key ring in her bag and tried all the keys in the lock. None of them worked. In a way, she felt relieved. "That's odd. Mr. Perrier must've forgotten to give me the key to this lock. Anyway, let's go, d'Art."

  The dog, who was licking a paper, raised his head. He was dumbfounded. What do you mean 'let's go?' Where's my surprise?

  Amanda looked out the window above the porcelain sinks. "Awesome! Let's go outside, d'Art!" Amanda left the teacup on the counter and ran outside.

  D'Artagnan followed her slowly, mumbling. Ah, now you're running! I have the unpleasant feeling that I’ve been tricked...

  Amanda and d’Artagnan walked through an abandoned garden located behind the castle, guarded by a stone fence. Weeds had encroached on the garden, and old tables and chairs were covered by ivy and brambles, giving a nostalgic imprint of the past.

  "Be careful where you put your nose, d'Art, you could hurt yourself."

  My nose? I walk with my paws!

  They walked cautiously, stepping over many obstacles. Then d'Artagnan stopped. The dog was reluctant to go in any direction, none of them looked like a viable option for him. Why did you bring us here?

  "D'Art, can you hear that?"

  Hear what? The dog was sniffing something on the ground with mistrust.

  "Waves! It's waves!" Amanda ran toward the other end of the garden and found a path out that lead to a rusty gate. She forced it open.

  D'Artagnan was still behind, trying to get rid of weeds that had curled around one of his paws. Not so fast! I'm going to break my delicate legs!

  The gate gave away. They left the garden and arrived at a cliff with a breathtaking view of the ocean. A few boats were sailing offshore. They could hear gulls shouting and waves breaking on the rocks.

  "Well, now that's a view."

  D'Artagnan walked cautiously toward the edge of the cliff.

  "Stop now, d'Art!"

  The dog startled. Damn! You want to give me a heart attack or what?

  "It's dangerous."

  You think?! Humans, sometimes...

  Amanda turned around to admire the landscape and the castle under the sun of Normandy. She smiled and closed her eyes to let herself daydream for a few seconds. A knight was riding a horse, galloping toward her, like in those old cloak and dagger French movies she had watched so many times. The steed stopped by Amanda, and the knight offered his hand, inviting her to join him. She raised her head. Blinded by the sun, she shielded her eyes with her hands and saw a handsome man looking exactly like... Pierre? Yes. It was Pierre, the baker. She opened her eyes. “Hmm. Interesting…”

  The dreamy appearance of Pierre naturally put images of pastries and little breads into Amanda’s mind. Her stomach growled. "Well, I think it's time we go and eat something, d'Art."

  Ah! Finally. I thought you'd never get to that because I'm STARVING!

  Chapter 22

  A manda sat at a table beside a large window to better see the activity in the circular marketplace with its old fountain in the middle. Although not as busy as a city center, it was the 'core' of Orvilly-sur-Mer where people came and went, took a stroll, or met for a chat. It was also a gathering point for tourists in summer who needed to refresh themselves and rest for a while. Two old men wearing black berets sat on a bench in front of the fountain, one of them waving his cane in the air as he spoke to his friend.

  The Old Calvados was the only bistro in the village that also sold tobacco and lottery games, and so was usually busy. The place was filled with locals eating a quick lunch before heading back to work. A group of men drinking wine and beer stood by the counter or sat on high stools, engaged in lively discussions.

  Roger Poutou, the owner of the bistro, had allowed Amanda to come inside with d'Artagnan. Upon their arrival, his old Bassett Hound, Georgina, had progressed very slowly in the direction of Amanda's table, her heavy and low belly sweeping the floor. She had it in mind to welcome d'Artagnan, who was sitting quietly by Amanda's feet. The Great Dane was staring at her, intrigued. He had never seen a dog without legs. Did she have legs? Anyway, they'd probably be done with their meals by the time she reached their table.

  Amanda perused the menu. The selection was not extensive, but she felt inspired by a salade cauchoise and ordered a piece of raw steak for d'Artagnan. Roger returned quickly with a little basket containing slices of baguette and a plate generously piled with potato salad. D'Artagnan pounced on his bowl of fresh meat.

  "Anything else for you, madam?" asked Roger.

  "No, thank you," answered Amanda.

  The tall man smiled, wished her a 'bon appétit' and walked back behind the counter to resume the discussion with the men.

  As she ate, Amanda reviewed the pros and cons of owning a castle, considering the possibility of moving into the château, and turning it into a fancy inn—and maybe even opening her own restaurant? Kate would be euphoric about this—Amanda's curiosity was piqued when she heard the words 'old castle.'

  "They're going to tear it down, I tell you," said a man standing at the bar.

  "Nah! They still haven't found the heir," said another. "They must find the heir first. They can't do anything if they don't solve that issue."

  "Not true," pursued a third man, "if they can’t find one, it would become public property."

  "And what would the Government do with it? A museum?"

  "Not necessarily. They could very well leave it like this and let it fall to pieces, slowly. It's way too expensive to take care of these castles nowadays. Even the French nobility doesn't want them anymore. It's like throwing money into a sinkhole. They prefer to get rid of them. Some even sell them for a single Euro."

  "Even for a Euro, I wouldn't buy those old ruins. And I don't want to live with ghosts, thanks."

  A few men laughed.

  "Again, that old story! Old ladies' gossip, that's all they are."

  A man frowned.

  "Not true. I know guys who've seen things."

  "Yeah! Me too, I know a bunch of guys who've seen a bunch of weird things, especially after having a few drinks!"
/>   The group of men laughed out loud, except for one.

  "I know what I'm saying. It's not gossip."

  "So, tell me, Gérald, have you ever seen a ghost there?"

  Gérald remained silent for a few seconds.

  "No. I haven't seen any ghosts," he answered with a small voice, "but some people have!"

  The group of men laughed again, making fun of Gérald, patting him on the back. Gérald looked at the floor sourly.

  “I know what I’m talking about,” insisted Gérald, as if he had to defend himself.

  Amanda was eating her potatoes, thinking they might have been a tiny bit overcooked. She looked at d’Artagnan. "Well, d'Art, it seems that we need to have a serious discussion with Mr. Perrier. Obviously, there's something important he’s hiding from us."

  Fine. But let's do that after I'm done with my steak.

  While d'Artagnan gobbled his last piece of meat, Georgina was only across the room. And still waddling.

  "I can assure you, Ms. McBride, that these are merely old rumors and silly stories," said Mr. Perrier, pushing his glasses up on his nose for the third time.

  "Even Paul Beaudoin, the owner of The Little Norman, reacted oddly when I mentioned the castle to him," said Amanda.

  Mr. Perrier joined his hands together in front of him. "Amanda—may I call you Amanda?"

  She nodded in approval.

  "Amanda, you have to understand that we're in a small village where gossip, fables, and myths are discussed all the time. People are bored so they need to make up stories to entertain themselves. That's all."

  "Well, at least, I want to know what the stories are."

  "I really don't think that this 'folklore' is relevant or helpful in this case. They are in no way official information related to the file."

  "It's relevant to me because I might decide to become the owner of this castle. But I need to know everything you know about it before I make my decision. So, what do people say about it?"

  Amanda stared at the notary with a very determined look. Mr. Perrier nervously adjusted his position in his seat.

  "Fine. Some people say that they've been chased at night by a ghost threatening them with a frying pan, which—if you want my opinion—might've just been Toinette d'Orvilly herself running after undesirable visitors on her property, as sometimes happened. Teenagers like to come at night around the castle, seeking 'ghosts.' They see what they want to see, helped by what they drink or smoke, mostly to tell spooky stories to their friends afterward."

  "What else?"

  The notary sighed. "Others who have been in the castle to do some repairs reported seeing doors closing or opening for no reason. But this is a medieval castle, an uneven floor or a little wind can easily do that."

  "Is there more?"

  Mr. Perrier hesitated for a moment. He rubbed his hands nervously. "Hmm… All right, this one might frighten you, but you shouldn't be afraid." Still, the man looked a bit anxious.

  Amanda leaned toward the desk. What was he about to tell her? “I’m all ears,” she said.

  "Once, a man delivered some boxes and put them in the basement, at Mrs. D'Orvilly's request. He had a heart attack there. And died at the hospital later that day."

  "That's horrible. What happened in the basement?" asked Amanda, not so sure that she wanted to know the answer.

  "Well, this is the problem. This man was alone, so nobody saw what happened."

  "Was he able to say anything before he died?"

  "Only his wife was with him when he passed away. But since then, she passed away too. Hard to know the truth. And it was a long time ago. We're talking about a story that's twenty years old. Again, people who keep talking about this just keep embellishing it and making it worse. I've been told that this man was close to retirement at that time, and might've had health issues that triggered the heart attack."

  "So, what do people say about this story, Mr. Perrier?"

  The notary sighed again. "Some people say that something 'evil' locked the door while the poor man was alone in the basement and that he was yelling 'go away!' while trying to escape. They had to break the lock on the door to open it, and found the poor man unconscious on the floor."

  The basement. That's the only place Amanda couldn't access when she visited the castle.

  "Mr. Perrier, do you have the key to the basement?" asked Amanda.

  Mr. Perrier looked surprised. "I reckon that I gave you all the keys. You don't have it? "

  "No, this one is missing. And it is the only one missing."

  "Hmm..." The notary remained pensive for a few seconds. "That's odd. It must've been mislaid... I'll look into this and will give you the key as soon as we find it." The man opened a file on his desk. "Anyway. Amanda, I told you earlier this week that there was something important that I needed to discuss with you." The notary's face lit up. He smiled. "Something much better and more important than these silly ghost stories. Well, you see, even if your great-great-cousin didn't take care of the castle, it isn't because she lacked the finances to do it. As I mentioned before, the death of her second husband affected her deeply. She just didn't care anymore about anything in general, but she did love her castle. It's my duty to inform you that if you were to accept the castle, you would also inherit two million Euros to help you take care of it."

  Silence.

  Say what???

  Chapter 23

  S ay what???" asked Kate on the phone.

  "That's exactly what I said!" answered Amanda, "well, I thought I said it, but Mr. Perrier had to snap his fingers in front of my face to shake me out of it. Not sure I’ve really recovered yet though."

  "Say what???" asked Kate again.

  Apparently, Amanda wasn't the only one to be stunned by the incredible news. She lay on her bed while d'Artagnan was on the floor, chewing on a bone. Bronx was evaluating a potential jump from the top of the wardrobe, ideally located above the dog's head.

  "Damn! This story gets better each time I talk to you," said Kate.

  "Kate, seriously, I don't know what to do."

  "Oh, I do know!" said Kate. "You take the castle and the money, and you do whatever you want with it. Simple. Can you sell it?"

  "Well, that's 'the thing.' I can't sell the castle for ten years from the moment I accept the inheritance. And apparently, there aren't so many people interested in living the luxury castle lifestyle anymore. Even people who had castles in their families for centuries want to get rid of them because they are way too expensive to maintain. They often sell them for one symbolic Euro. Can you believe it?"

  "What? Hey, David, do you want to go to France and buy a castle for one Euro and live there?" Kate waited for her husband's answer for a few seconds. Instead, Amanda heard a little girl yelling "Me, me, me! I want to live in a castle!"

  "Kate, come on, be serious. I have an important decision to make. It means a lot of changes in my life if I accept this inheritance. It's a big responsibility, and most of all, I know nothing about castles."

  "OK. Let's keep it simple: do you like the village?" asked Kate.

  "The village is really charming. It’s just like I imagined old French villages from pictures, novels and movies," answered Amanda.

  "Good. Do you like this castle?" pursued Kate.

  "The castle, hmm... after the first visit, I wasn't sure at all, but today I saw all its charm and beauty. And the location by the sea is absolutely amazing. I believe d'Artagnan loved it too."

  D'Artagnan stopped chewing his bone, rolled on his side and straightened his ears, staring at Amanda. Are you talking about me? What are you saying about me?

  Bronx sent a nasty look to Amanda. Yeah, and as usual, nobody wants my point of view! Just this dummy dog's opinion matters? Pff. I haven’t even seen the place yet!

  "All right. As you'd have millions of Euros—I can't even believe I'm saying this—you would invest them in the castle, right? So, what would you do with the castle exactly, besides renovations?"

 
"To be honest, I had started to think about it...

  "Ah! You see."

  "I'd turn it into a fancy inn..."

  "Great idea!"

  "And why not, I could open my own restaurant too?"

  "Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! Yes!" Kate was probably jumping up and down in her living-room.

  "And maybe, one of the rooms downstairs could become a little antique shop?"

  "Amanda, that's it. You have your answer. You already know what you want to do with this castle. Forget about these silly ghost stories and start living your dream. Do you want to come back to Victoria and work at the Registrar’s Office until you retire or do you prefer to live in a castle in France and make your dreams come true?"

  "Well, when you put it that way..."

  "Seriously, Amanda, why are you still hesitating?"

  Amanda pondered this for a few seconds.

  Oddly, both Bronx and d'Artagnan were staring at her, as if they were waiting for an answer too.

  Amanda stood up and paced the room.

  "All right. Today, I start living my dreams. Today, I dare to say 'yes.' Today, my life changes. Today, I become the owner of a castle in Normandy, France," said Amanda decisively.

  "Hooray!" yelled Kate so loud that Amanda had to pull her phone away from her ear, "David, we just won holidays in a castle in Normandy for life!"

  Amanda heard a thump coming from the room. D'Artagnan howled. She turned around. Bronx had succeeded in landing on his target: the dog’s head.

  Chapter 24

  A manda finally signed all the paperwork. Twelve pages, at the bottom of which she signed her first and last names below the date, which happened to be a Friday the 13th. Although she wasn’t superstitious, she still hoped that it wasn’t an omen.

  Mr. Perrier offered Amanda a broad smile and even a glass of champagne. They stood by a gueridon near the window in the notary’s office. The room was brightened by the sun pouring in, something else to be grateful for. They raised and clinked their flutes, and drank the bubbly nectar with delight.