Read Online A French Pirouette by Jennifer Bohnet - Free Book Online
Authors: Jennifer Bohnet
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With the teak table and chairs placed underneath it would be a perfect spot for lunch with Libby later in the week.
When Pascal arrived Bruno left the kitchen garden, which he’d been digging over, and gave him a hand carrying the trees into the garden.
“D’you want a hand planting them?” Pascal asked.
Bruno shook his head. “No, it’s fine. We manage between us.”
“Pascal, come to lunch on Thursday?” Brigitte said impulsively as she walked back to his truck with him. “I’m planning a mini celebration now we’re more or less settled here.”
As Pascal hesitated she continued, “I know your mama goes to the Bridge club in the village for lunch then, so you don’t have to worry about her—and you close between twelve and three o’clock. Do come.” Knowing how notoriously shy Pascal was she added. “It’s only us and Libby.”
Pascal smiled his thanks. “Twelve-fifteen OK? I look forward to it.”
“Good. Now I go give Bruno a hand,” Brigitte said.
The olive tree was quickly planted in its new home in the sunniest corner of the garden. The larger willow took some time and persuasion to stand upright by the pond but finally it was firmly placed in the ground and secured to a tall stake.
“Right,” Brigitte said. “I’m going to walk up to the auberge and see Libby. She’ll be missing Chloe today I think. Are you coming?”
Bruno shook his head. “While you’re gone I want to make a start on clearing the pond.”
“I do love you,” Brigitte said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek in a rare display of emotion. “I will cook you a special meal tonight.”
“Chicken in your wine sauce? Raspberry pavlova?”
“I’ll be back in an hour to organise it,” Brigitte promised, picking up her bag and coat.
Making her way through the village, Brigitte turned left and took the long flight of narrow steps down the side of La Poste and stepped onto the canal path. Five minutes later and she was opening the auberge gate.
The door of the gîte was open and Brigitte could see Libby inside rearranging furniture.
“Hi,” Libby said, panting from the exertion of pushing the two-seater settee into its new position under the window. “Just giving the place a bit of an airing and thought I’d change things around a bit. What d’you think?”
Brigitte nodded. “Looks better. You have bookings for it?”
“No,” Libby said. “I wanted to get it ready for the summer.” She glanced across at Brigitte. “Did you use it much? I know Dan and I stayed in it one weekend when we came unexpectedly and you were full but I can’t remember anybody staying in it other times when we visited.”
“People seemed to prefer the auberge itself,” Brigitte said. “I did rent it out for winter a few years ago but there are so many gîtes around people are spoilt for choice.”
“I’ll keep it for visiting family and friends then,” Libby said. “Maybe at the end of the season see if anyone would like to rent it for winter.”
“Chloe get off all right?” Brigitte asked.
Libby smiled. “Yes and arrived safely. She sent me a text at midnight last night to tell me!”
“She woke you up?”
“No. Evie and I were still in the kitchen talking. I’d invited her to join me for supper,” Libby explained. “Seemed silly not to when we were both alone.”
Last evening had turned into an unexpected girly evening as the two of them had got to know each other. “Shame she’s only here for a week before she returns to Paris. I think she’s a very private person though,” Libby said now to Brigitte. “She didn’t really tell me a lot about herself.”
Evie, who had assumed Libby was divorced, had been mortified when Libby told her she was a widow.
“You are so brave starting a new life here, in a foreign country, alone. I do not think I could ever do that.”
Libby had shrugged. “It’s an adventure. If it doesn’t work out I can always return to England. What do you do when you’re not
When Pascal arrived Bruno left the kitchen garden, which he’d been digging over, and gave him a hand carrying the trees into the garden.
“D’you want a hand planting them?” Pascal asked.
Bruno shook his head. “No, it’s fine. We manage between us.”
“Pascal, come to lunch on Thursday?” Brigitte said impulsively as she walked back to his truck with him. “I’m planning a mini celebration now we’re more or less settled here.”
As Pascal hesitated she continued, “I know your mama goes to the Bridge club in the village for lunch then, so you don’t have to worry about her—and you close between twelve and three o’clock. Do come.” Knowing how notoriously shy Pascal was she added. “It’s only us and Libby.”
Pascal smiled his thanks. “Twelve-fifteen OK? I look forward to it.”
“Good. Now I go give Bruno a hand,” Brigitte said.
The olive tree was quickly planted in its new home in the sunniest corner of the garden. The larger willow took some time and persuasion to stand upright by the pond but finally it was firmly placed in the ground and secured to a tall stake.
“Right,” Brigitte said. “I’m going to walk up to the auberge and see Libby. She’ll be missing Chloe today I think. Are you coming?”
Bruno shook his head. “While you’re gone I want to make a start on clearing the pond.”
“I do love you,” Brigitte said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek in a rare display of emotion. “I will cook you a special meal tonight.”
“Chicken in your wine sauce? Raspberry pavlova?”
“I’ll be back in an hour to organise it,” Brigitte promised, picking up her bag and coat.
Making her way through the village, Brigitte turned left and took the long flight of narrow steps down the side of La Poste and stepped onto the canal path. Five minutes later and she was opening the auberge gate.
The door of the gîte was open and Brigitte could see Libby inside rearranging furniture.
“Hi,” Libby said, panting from the exertion of pushing the two-seater settee into its new position under the window. “Just giving the place a bit of an airing and thought I’d change things around a bit. What d’you think?”
Brigitte nodded. “Looks better. You have bookings for it?”
“No,” Libby said. “I wanted to get it ready for the summer.” She glanced across at Brigitte. “Did you use it much? I know Dan and I stayed in it one weekend when we came unexpectedly and you were full but I can’t remember anybody staying in it other times when we visited.”
“People seemed to prefer the auberge itself,” Brigitte said. “I did rent it out for winter a few years ago but there are so many gîtes around people are spoilt for choice.”
“I’ll keep it for visiting family and friends then,” Libby said. “Maybe at the end of the season see if anyone would like to rent it for winter.”
“Chloe get off all right?” Brigitte asked.
Libby smiled. “Yes and arrived safely. She sent me a text at midnight last night to tell me!”
“She woke you up?”
“No. Evie and I were still in the kitchen talking. I’d invited her to join me for supper,” Libby explained. “Seemed silly not to when we were both alone.”
Last evening had turned into an unexpected girly evening as the two of them had got to know each other. “Shame she’s only here for a week before she returns to Paris. I think she’s a very private person though,” Libby said now to Brigitte. “She didn’t really tell me a lot about herself.”
Evie, who had assumed Libby was divorced, had been mortified when Libby told her she was a widow.
“You are so brave starting a new life here, in a foreign country, alone. I do not think I could ever do that.”
Libby had shrugged. “It’s an adventure. If it doesn’t work out I can always return to England. What do you do when you’re not
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