A Springtime to Remember

by Lucy Coleman

  The lintels and reveals around the garage, doors, and windows have been fashioned from huge pieces of stone and are beautifully preserved. The whitewashed stonework contrasts nicely with the soft colours of the paintwork and the attention to detail adds to the overall charm.

  None of the other properties have a garage, I’m surprised to see, but mainly because there are four raised flower beds housing manicured shrubs and a couple of medium-sized trees. Three of the properties have weathered metal chairs and bistro tables in front of them and, together with the greenery, it feels neighbourly and well loved.

  I’m tempted to check out the garage first, grateful I went for a smaller, economy hire car, which I hope will fit easily inside. Street parking is notoriously difficult so close to the palace. The taxi had to double park while I popped into the boulangerie to collect the key and the entrance code for the gate.

  Instead, I turn the key in the front door and lug the two suitcases inside. After more than a year of planning, it’s all suddenly happening and it’s hard to take it in. I’m buzzing with optimism and I can’t wait to get started. But first things first.

  I realise I can only carry one suitcase up the stairs at a time. Just as well I sent the taxi driver away, as two of us wouldn’t have fitted into this tight space, anyway. But what it lacks in size, it makes up for in cuteness.

  Easing the first suitcase around the sharp turn in the stairs, I hold in my elbows as I push through into the open-plan living area. With beautiful old sash windows to the front and rear elevations of the room, it’s wonderfully light and, while the kitchen area in the far left-hand corner is compact, it’s perfectly adequate.

  Placing my heavy load down on the floor, I stroll across the room to gaze down onto the courtyard. It feels peaceful and rather decadent. With all the windows closed there’s hardly any sound from the traffic at all, with only the noisy wail of a siren in the distance disturbing the peace.

  Glancing around at the other properties, I have no way of knowing whether any of the other five cottages are occupied, or not. Maybe they’re private holiday homes rather than rentals. They have all been sympathetically maintained as beautifully as this one and in keeping with their character. Registering the aged parquet flooring beneath my feet, I turn around to take in every little detail of the room.

  With a double sash window above the garage and a single above the front door, the amount of light helps to make the space feel a lot bigger than it is; the only drawback is that when I stare out I’m looking directly at the two cottages on the opposite side of the courtyard.

  ‘Note to self,’ I say out loud, as I retrace my footsteps to retrieve the second suitcase. ‘No walking around naked.’

  In the centre of the room there are two three-seater sofas facing each other, to the right of which is a charming alcove with an inset, bespoke cupboard. It follows the general rustic style of the cottage and has been hand-painted, many times probably, over the years. A TV screen sits on top of the lower half of the cupboard and above it are several shelves crammed with old books.

  With a case in each hand, I head towards the rear-facing windows. They look out over a higgledy-piggledy collection of roofs and beyond, in the distance, a forest of tall trees looking naked without their leaves. Very possibly they could even stand within the luxurious parc, or grounds of the palace itself.

  Part way along the wall to my left, the kitchen area comprises one double base sink unit sandwiched between an upright fridge-freezer and an oven and hob, in front of which is a generously sized table and four chairs. A range of wall units, in an off-white shaker-style, wrap around the corner section and tie in well with the design of the alcove cupboard on the opposite side of the room.

  The staircase spirals upwards, disappearing into a shaft of brilliant white light. The metal steps are much wider than they looked in the photographs on the website, which is a relief, although I climb them rather gingerly, my hands full. Looking upwards, I see above my head a vaulted ceiling with a large Velux window. Despite the chill in the air, the sun is making a bold appearance and streaming through; little particles of dust kicked up by my feet are like a shower of tiny confetti.

  Surprisingly, it’s not quite as cramped as I’d feared, and the light from above filtering into the small, square landing makes a huge difference. It’s usually wasted space anyway, I muse as I’m faced with the choice of two doors.

  The one to my left is partly open and I nudge it back with my foot. It turns out to be a reasonably sized, elongated bathroom with a rather grand reclaimed slipper bath, a toilet and hand basin; there’s also a half cupboard set into a recess next to a dormer window.

  When I stoop to open the doors to the cupboard, I’m surprised to see there’s a washing machine inside. Well, I guess I won’t want for anything while I’m here, but a shower would have been handy. Guess I’m going to have to factor in a little more bathroom time every morning, as you can’t possibly slip into such a grand old bath with anything other than a little pampering in mind.

  I head back out onto the small landing area to check out the door directly in front of me. As I step through, the wall to the bathroom runs along the left-hand side creating a small inner corridor, but as the room opens out it’s at least double the size of the bathroom. My eyes go straight to the apex of the roof where the beautifully exposed timbers ooze charm.

  I was expecting restricted headroom as is often the case with attic rooms, so this is a bonus and it actually feels light and bright. On the far wall there is a king-sized bed flanked by two shabby chic bedside tables. To my left, where the wall of the bathroom returns, there is a hand-painted desk and chair: a perfect niche for a study area. The two larger dormer windows to the front give plenty of natural light over the desk and mean it’s easy to access the other side of the bed.

  Opposite the windows is an enormous built-in wardrobe, which is a great use of the eaves space where the angle of the roof slopes rather steeply.

  The paintwork in here is a very soft blue and the walls plain white to match the bedding. It’s simple and it works. Slipping off my shoes and leaving them next to the suitcases, I head back into the bathroom, the old oak floorboards creaking slightly beneath my feet as I walk.

  What I already love about this place is that it isn’t full of things; there are no ornaments cluttering up the space and yet it feels so welcoming. Simple, country charm at its very best with a hint of elegance and it’s all mine for the next three months.

  Throwing my arms around my body, I hug myself tightly, letting excitement wash over me. This is the culmination of a dream I’ve had for a very long time and, for all my bravado and gritty determination to succeed, I needed a place to stay that felt special. Like a home from home. The moment I saw the photos of this place online it was calling out to me and now I’m here it feels so right.

  I find myself wondering if Grandma Viv stayed in a little place like this back in 1961. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could find where she lived during that year and trace her journey? I smile to myself as thoughts of her begin to fill my head.

  As I lean across the bath to swing open the window, aside from a very low hum of traffic in the background, all I can hear are two birds in one of the trees in the courtyard. They are singing their hearts out and taking it in turns, as if in conversation. The birdsong soars and dips quite magically and it makes my heart skip a beat. It’s full of hope, excitement and promise. This is my destiny, I’m sure of it. Being here, in Versailles, fulfilling a long-held dream, I can already feel the history of this city pulling at me from all directions. Is this what Grandma Viv felt when she first arrived here? And why did she never speak about it?

  ‘Hey, Lexie, how’re you doing? I’m here at last. Are you all settled in?’

  It’s Elliot and it is a bit of a relief to know he’s arrived safely, too.

  ‘Yes. It’s a brilliant little place and a gentle stroll up to the palace.’

  ‘Great. Sounds perfect. How’s the hir
e car?’

  I can hear a teasing smile coming through in his question.

  ‘My brand-new soft-top is a great little drive actually. I’ve already taken her around the block and thank goodness I didn’t get anything bigger, as the garage is tiny. How’s your apartment?’

  Elliot does a lot of work for a French company whose offices are in Paris. It’s only the fact that he has contacts from a video shoot he did inside the Palace of Versailles two years ago that persuaded them to get on board with our own project. They are so notoriously reluctant to let cameras in that I’m still keeping everything crossed nothing goes wrong and no one changes their mind.

  ‘It’s splendid. I’m probably ten minutes away from you. It’s a new complex off the Avenue de Sceaux. It has a huge TV and surround sound, so I’m happy.’ Suddenly, there’s a loud, ear-shattering sneeze.

  ‘Sorry, this damn cold is a real pain,’ he adds.

  I laugh.

  ‘Well, let’s hope the sunshine clears it up quickly. At least it’s warmer here than in the UK and nowhere near as damp. We can’t have you sneezing while filming. No news from anyone?’ I ask tentatively.

  ‘News?’

  ‘I mean anything from your contact at the palace.’

  ‘No. I wasn’t expecting to hear anything. They’re awaiting our draft schedule for approval prior to our first meeting though, so you and I need to sit down and thrash that out as quickly as possible. I’ve been in contact with Cameron and confirmed the dates that he’s available, too.’

  Screwing up my eyes triumphantly, I silently fist-pump the air. Cameron Davis is our sound man and, although I don’t know him very well, he’s worked with Elliot several times in the past. It’s all looking so promising, but I won’t believe it until I’m standing on the terrace at the rear of the Palace of Versailles and gazing out over the famous Grand Canal – a folly only King Louis XIV would have been bold enough to commission.

  ‘Right, dinner is on me tonight,’ he adds.

  I can hardly hear him over the excitement buzzing in my head. There are so many reasons this could be life-changing. Firstly, if this project takes off, I transition from simply being a presenter to becoming a producer making programmes about topics I find truly inspiring. Secondly, I get to savour the delights of Versailles in springtime. And last, but not least, I might discover what Grandma Viv did while she was here.

  As she always said, life should be lived to the full. My father’s success tended to overshadow everything in our family, although as the years passed it became very apparent that Jake intended to make his mark in a big way. But Grandma Viv was the one who kept drumming into us girls that we should chase our dreams, too. Fearing, I think, that with two very strong, and at times warring, males in the house our successes wouldn’t get a chance to shine.

  ‘Success comes when it comes, but only after an enormous amount of hard work and application,’ she explained. ‘If it comes easily, then it usually doesn’t last very long. In my experience women often have a harder battle to prove themselves, but then times have changed for the most part,’ she reflected once, rather wistfully I thought at the time. It made me wonder if she had fought and lost a battle of her own at some point.

  ‘When your chance comes just grab it, Lexie.’ I remember her words so clearly. It was the summer of my final exams before I was hopefully starting college, and I was filled with anxiety and self-doubt.

  ‘Like you did, Grandma?’ I asked her, eager to hear more about her own experiences.

  She smiled at me then.

  ‘I don’t regret one single second of my life. The good, or the bad. I was true to myself, Lexie, and that’s the key to happiness. Sometimes we’re not sure what it is we want, but the most important thing of all is not to have any regrets. Promise me you won’t settle for anything less than a life spent in pursuit of your dreams, because you and I are very similar. I had my adventure and it allowed me to come home and find true happiness with your granddad. Without that, my life might have been full of what ifs and they don’t make for a happy life.’

  Well, I’m doing the best I can, Grandma, and I’m determined to take your advice.

  3

  The Team Is Complete

  Elliot stands up as I approach the table for our working dinner.

  ‘This is rather nice,’ I comment as he leans in to kiss my cheek. ‘How’s the cold?’

  ‘Better, thanks. It’s left me with an annoying cough though, but I’m sneeze-free now, thank goodness.’

  A waiter appears at my side to seat me at the cosy little table for two, before Elliot even has time to step forward to pull out my chair.

  Turning my head to give the incredibly handsome young Frenchman a warm smile, I settle myself down. ‘Merci.’

  Elliot can see I’m a little puzzled at the choice of such a smart restaurant, and I’m glad I made a bit of an effort, choosing a simple, but pretty, dress to wear. He’s wearing a pale blue shirt, and navy trousers, looking very man about town. But then he is very handsome, very talented and very engaged to the vivacious Mia.

  ‘We deserve this,’ he informs me. ‘I wanted to kick off our time here with a bit of a celebration. This project was a great idea of yours, Lexie. I think our new business venture is going to snowball once we succeed in selling this first series. Ah, and here comes the waiter with a rather nice bottle of red wine I’ve ordered, ready for the toast.’

  ‘Lovely,’ I reply, trying hard to contain the growing smile on my face. If Elliot has a good feeling about this, then I’m not kidding myself in thinking we really have a shot.

  Elliot nods to the waiter for me to have the honour of tasting the wine and he pours a little of the ruby-red liquid into my glass. I rather self-consciously pick it up and gently swirl it around before drawing it up to my nose. Savouring the richness of warm blackberries and a curious hint of – honestly – chocolate; that first sip is comforting, welcoming and rich.

  ‘Perfect, thank you.’

  The waiter gives me a little smile of approval before pouring an inch of wine into each glass. Then he turns on his heel and sashays away as if he’s walking on air. I could sit and watch him all night; walking like that is an art form.

  ‘Ahem,’ Elliot clears his throat, drawing my gaze back in his direction.

  ‘That’s an expensive bottle of wine. You must let me pay for this meal, Elliot. It was your contact who managed to get our foot in the door and without that connection this would probably have been a project that never went anywhere,’ I admit.

  ‘Next time – the start of our second project, eh? It’s all about timing, Lexie. Your idea came at precisely the right moment. The popularity of the lavish drama Versailles by Canal Plus just showed there is a fascination with all things related to the palace that never wanes. The Palace of Versailles and its history is iconic, but people are also curious about what goes on there today. Honestly, the timing couldn’t be more perfect. So, here’s to us and to a very fruitful journey ahead.’

  We touch our raised glasses and he smiles at me over the top of them.

  ‘And Mia will forgive me for whisking you away for the entire spring?’ I ask tentatively.

  He nods, taking a moment to turn his head and cough. ‘She knew I had to spend some serious time in Paris anyway, so it’s not a problem. She said she was glad to see the back of me and my germs.’ We both laugh.

  ‘How easy will it be to coordinate everyone’s calendars and work around the availability of the interviewees?’

  Elliot pulls out a small file from his leather satchel, placing it on the table.

  ‘Let’s order first, as the waiter is hovering, and we can discuss the draft schedule in between courses. Le Paradis is famous for its classic côte de boeuf, which they serve on a thick wooden slab. It’s hearty, but goodness me it’s good – trust me.’

  Elliot is so well travelled in his line of work and at times I feel rather parochial in his company. Being a TV presenter, all I usually see is the ins
ide of a studio and while to some it may appear to be a glamorous lifestyle, it really isn’t. Sure, I get to attend the odd award ceremony but even those are few and far between. By comparison, he’s used to restaurants as smart as this and seeing sights around the world I can only dream about. Maybe if our joint project is a success, then who knows what the future might bring? As Grandma Viv said, the only limit on how far a person can take their dream is the limit they set themselves.

  After another long and busy day, I now have the task of pulling together the draft schedule, based on my conversation with Elliot last night. We need to have the first official version thrashed out ready to email across in advance of our meeting at the palace tomorrow. The sound of tinkling chimes sends me scurrying for my phone where I see it’s Shellie calling, and a welcome face comes into view.

  ‘Hi, Maisie. How are you, my darling girl?’

  ‘Good, thank you, Auntie Lexie. Missing you. I wanted to see where you are staying. Mummy said I could.’

  ‘Let me walk you around the cottage. Hang on, I’ll take you over to the window to show you the little courtyard at the front.’

  I stride across and turn my phone to slowly pan from left to right.

  ‘Oh, Auntie Lexie, it’s so pretty! I wish I was there with you.’ Her voice drops in pitch, rather glumly.

  When I turn the screen back around, she’s looking decidedly grumpy.

  ‘I’ll send you photos, I promise, so you won’t miss a thing. Here, let me show you the living room behind me. I’ve turned the table into my desk though, so it’s a bit messy – lots of paperwork. How was school today?’

  ‘Good. We had strawberry shortcake for pudding,’ she enthuses, her eyes shining again, and I start laughing.