Read Online The Diamond Caper by Peter Mayle - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Peter Mayle
Ads: Link
teaspoon from a dish on the stand and offered a spoonful to Elena.
At first, there was no reaction. Then she began to nod. “Oh boy,” she said. “Oh boy.” Alphonse beamed. Benjamin beamed. Sam started to make extra room in one of his bags.
They had one last stop to make. Alphonse wanted them to see a local curiosity, which he described to them as a
bar roulant
, or mobile bar, perhaps the only one in Provence. “Another example,” he said, “of French ingenuity.”
They found it at the entrance to the market—a large white van marked on one side with a sign that read
Réserves Médicales,
or Medical Supplies, because, as Alphonse said, a traveling bar was “not exactly legal.” On the van’s other side, a panel had been dropped down to make a counter, now decorated with several customers in various stages of thirst. Prominently displayed was an easel with a small blackboard, on which was written:
LISTE DES VINS
Rouge 3 Euros
Rosé 2 Euros
Rosé Supérieur 4
Euros
The two proprietors, so Alphonse told them, were a husband-and-wife team, Jacky and Flo. Flo was responsible for driving; Jacky was in charge of everything liquid, a responsibility which, if his almost luminous nose was anything to go by, he took very seriously.
“I’m buying,” said Sam. “Money’s no object.
Rosé Supérieur
all around.”
It arrived in small tumblers of thick glass, and tasted surprisingly good.
“A toast,” said Elena, “To dear Alphonse, who will make me a kitchen diva one of these days. Thanks so much for this morning.”
“A pleasure, my dear. Do you have any questions?”
Sam raised a hand. “What’s for lunch?”
Chapter 9
“Hear that? It’s the sound of summer.” Sam and Elena had just arrived at their house. It was barely 8:00 a.m. but the builders were already there. “The drowsy hum of the cement mixer, the chirping of the jackhammer—makes you glad we got here so early, doesn’t it?”
Elena winced at the thud of falling masonry. “Is this a normal time for them to start work?”
“Francis told me they like to do the heavy stuff before it gets too hot. Later on, during high summer, the temperatures will be up in the nineties by midday, and that’s a little warm for swinging a pickaxe.”
Although it had been only a few days since the start of work, it looked as though a surprising amount of progress had been made. All the windows and exterior doors were gone, the openings were being enlarged, and flagstones were stacked and ready to be put in place on the terraces around the house. The dingy bathtub had been uprooted and left, brimming with rubble, next to the truck that would take it away. For Elena, all this noise and activity was an exciting change after years of living in ready-made apartments in L.A. She was busy taking photographs when Coco appeared in the doorway. “Hold it right there,” Elena said, aiming her camera. “Look as if you’re having fun.” Coco smiled obligingly, and came out to join them. Sam noticed that she and Elena were now on kissing terms; he had to make do with a handshake.
Even dressed for dust and destruction, Coco managed to look crisp and stylish in white overalls, with a gauzy turquoise scarf at her throat. “Some good news,” she said. “The roof is in much better shape than the rest of the house, so we’re looking at a few repairs, and not a total replacement. That’s going to save a lot of time. And the good news for you, Monsieur Budget,” she added, looking at Sam, “is that we’ll also save some money.”
Sam nodded his approval. “Great. Now we can have the gold bathroom taps and his-and-hers Jacuzzis.” He looked at Coco’s raised eyebrows. “Just kidding.”
The good news continued. All the partition walls would be demolished by the end of the week, and the scruffy floor tiles removed. Within two weeks, Coco promised, the new construction could begin. And so, by the time Elena and Sam left the site at the end of the
At first, there was no reaction. Then she began to nod. “Oh boy,” she said. “Oh boy.” Alphonse beamed. Benjamin beamed. Sam started to make extra room in one of his bags.
They had one last stop to make. Alphonse wanted them to see a local curiosity, which he described to them as a
bar roulant
, or mobile bar, perhaps the only one in Provence. “Another example,” he said, “of French ingenuity.”
They found it at the entrance to the market—a large white van marked on one side with a sign that read
Réserves Médicales,
or Medical Supplies, because, as Alphonse said, a traveling bar was “not exactly legal.” On the van’s other side, a panel had been dropped down to make a counter, now decorated with several customers in various stages of thirst. Prominently displayed was an easel with a small blackboard, on which was written:
LISTE DES VINS
Rouge 3 Euros
Rosé 2 Euros
Rosé Supérieur 4
Euros
The two proprietors, so Alphonse told them, were a husband-and-wife team, Jacky and Flo. Flo was responsible for driving; Jacky was in charge of everything liquid, a responsibility which, if his almost luminous nose was anything to go by, he took very seriously.
“I’m buying,” said Sam. “Money’s no object.
Rosé Supérieur
all around.”
It arrived in small tumblers of thick glass, and tasted surprisingly good.
“A toast,” said Elena, “To dear Alphonse, who will make me a kitchen diva one of these days. Thanks so much for this morning.”
“A pleasure, my dear. Do you have any questions?”
Sam raised a hand. “What’s for lunch?”
Chapter 9
“Hear that? It’s the sound of summer.” Sam and Elena had just arrived at their house. It was barely 8:00 a.m. but the builders were already there. “The drowsy hum of the cement mixer, the chirping of the jackhammer—makes you glad we got here so early, doesn’t it?”
Elena winced at the thud of falling masonry. “Is this a normal time for them to start work?”
“Francis told me they like to do the heavy stuff before it gets too hot. Later on, during high summer, the temperatures will be up in the nineties by midday, and that’s a little warm for swinging a pickaxe.”
Although it had been only a few days since the start of work, it looked as though a surprising amount of progress had been made. All the windows and exterior doors were gone, the openings were being enlarged, and flagstones were stacked and ready to be put in place on the terraces around the house. The dingy bathtub had been uprooted and left, brimming with rubble, next to the truck that would take it away. For Elena, all this noise and activity was an exciting change after years of living in ready-made apartments in L.A. She was busy taking photographs when Coco appeared in the doorway. “Hold it right there,” Elena said, aiming her camera. “Look as if you’re having fun.” Coco smiled obligingly, and came out to join them. Sam noticed that she and Elena were now on kissing terms; he had to make do with a handshake.
Even dressed for dust and destruction, Coco managed to look crisp and stylish in white overalls, with a gauzy turquoise scarf at her throat. “Some good news,” she said. “The roof is in much better shape than the rest of the house, so we’re looking at a few repairs, and not a total replacement. That’s going to save a lot of time. And the good news for you, Monsieur Budget,” she added, looking at Sam, “is that we’ll also save some money.”
Sam nodded his approval. “Great. Now we can have the gold bathroom taps and his-and-hers Jacuzzis.” He looked at Coco’s raised eyebrows. “Just kidding.”
The good news continued. All the partition walls would be demolished by the end of the week, and the scruffy floor tiles removed. Within two weeks, Coco promised, the new construction could begin. And so, by the time Elena and Sam left the site at the end of the
Similar Books
