Page 15 of A French Inheritance

Jeannie drove into Cannes the next morning with a thoughtful Briony beside her in the passenger seat. ‘Shall we have a coffee before or after our meeting with Monsieur Caumont, the notaire?’

‘A quick walk along the Croisette before would be good. Get some sea air,’ Briony said. ‘Afterwards, we can have a coffee and maybe a stroll around Forville Marché if it’s still on.’

‘I’ll park in the Palais des Festivals underground car park then, nice and central,’ Jeannie said.

Ten minutes later, the car was parked and they were making their way along the Croisette in the sunshine. ‘Have you met the notaire before?’ Briony asked curiously.

‘No, but I dropped Granny off there once for an appointment, so I know where his office is,’ Jeannie said.

‘He was recommended to Giselle by her friend Agnes whose husband died and the will got complicated when an illegitimate son showed up. Giselle said Monsieur Caumont was very correct but also understanding. Mind you, I think the fact that he had a twinkle in his eye and a sense of humour endeared him to her!’

‘Do we know why he wanted us to come over for the meeting?’

Jeannie shook her head. ‘No, but I suspect that French bureaucracy will need you to sign lots of pieces of paper so that he can close Granny’s estate and formalise the transfer of the cottage over to you.’

‘Is it far from here?’

‘Not far. Shall we cross over and indulge in some window shopping in the luxury shops before we turn into the labyrinth of streets behind the Croisette and find his office?’

‘I love how there are no prices on anything,’ Briony said, minutes later gazing at a window display with just a single headless mannequin dressed with a beautiful floaty chiffon summer dress, a straw tote hanging from one arm with a scarf tied to its handle hung down towards the floor pointing to where a wide-brimmed sun hat and a pair of wedge sandals were casually clustered together as the perfect accessories.

Beautiful daywear for the C?te d’Azur. ‘I like the tote and the hat, but I love the wedge sandals. Knowing that I have to ask the price means I can’t afford them. ’ Briony sighed.

Further along, they stood gazing in an estate agent’s window.

‘Something else out of our price range,’ Briony said, gazing at luxurious villas and apartments, all with POA instead of an actual price. ‘Not that I would want anything like that. Owls Nest is perfect for me.’

Jeannie smiled as she glanced at her. ‘Good to hear. Let’s find the notaire’s office.’

And the two of them made their way back along the Croisette before taking a left turn into the first of the back streets.

The notaire’s office, with its shiny brass plate, was easy to find and it was only minutes later that Monsieur Caumont was greeting them.

‘Today I have to explain Madame Giselle Aubert’s will and we have to sign a few papers. Nothing too worrying. I will translate so you know what you are signing. D’accord ?’

Briony nodded. She might say she was bilingual, but legal and medical expressions were hard to translate correctly.

‘You know because you are her only direct descendant that you have inherited the property known as Owls Nest Cottage. Mais , you also inherit the rest of her estate, except for a small monetary gift to you, her daughter-in-law Madame Aubert,’ he glanced at Jeannie.

For the next ten minutes, he explained the intricacies of French inheritance as they applied to Giselle’s will.

When he mentioned the amount of money that Giselle had left her in addition to the cottage, Briony was stunned.

The notaire explained most of the money was invested and he suggested she leave it there for the time being.

Finally, he pushed three or four pieces of legal paperwork across his desk to Briony and asked her to initial them before asking.

‘What do you plan to do with the cottage? Sell or perhaps keep it as a maison secondaire ?’

‘I – we are moving over and living in it,’ Briony said. ‘I assume we can do that despite Brexit?’

‘Yes, of course. You will need to apply for the now necessary long-stay visas, but I can’t see that being a problem, especially with such a close French relative.’

‘I was thinking I might work remotely for a UK company until my French is good enough to get a job here,’ Briony said. ‘Does France allow remote work for another country?’

‘You need to apply for a different long-stay visa to do that as there are certain employment and tax rules you will need to abide by.’

‘Is it complicated?’

Monsieur Caumont shook his head. ‘I will help you sort the correct visa. Now, before I forget, do you both have a French bank account? Because you definitely need one if you are moving over and it would make things less complicated when I close Giselle’s estate and legally transfer everything.

Another plus would be there would be no exchange rates to worry about.

I can organise one for you if you would like me to do that too? ’

‘Thanks, we’d appreciate that,’ Briony said. ‘I assume Granny had the cottage insured – is that still in effect? If not, can you organise at least temporary insurance for me please? When I move over, I can sort out all that kind of thing, but I’d hate anything to happen in the meantime.’

‘Certainly, I’ll make sure the cottage is insured. I hope to be in touch soon then,’ and Monsieur Caumont stood up, indicating the meeting was at an end. ‘Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you need help with those visas.’

Leaving the notaire’s office, they began to walk back in the direction of Forville Marché and went into the first coffee shop they passed. Briony ordered their coffees and as they sat down at a table in the window she looked at her mum. ‘Did you know about the money Granny left?’

Jeannie shook her head. ‘I knew she never appeared to worry when bills came in, but we never talked about money in general. I certainly wasn’t expecting her to leave me anything.’

‘I wasn’t expecting to inherit the cottage, let alone the rest of it,’ Briony said, as the waiter placed their coffees on the table. ‘I’m stunned.’

‘It will certainly relieve the pressure on you trying to get another job for a little while, you can take your time,’ Jeannie said. ‘And you already have your divorce settlement and also your redundancy money. So you have quite the cushion. Also, you no longer have rent or a mortgage to pay.’

‘That’s true,’ Briony nodded. ‘I think I’ll take summer off. Enjoy settling in down here, practise my French as much as I can, sign up for a conversation class or something, and generally try to work out what I want to do. We can have some days out together too.’

‘Sounds like a good plan,’ Jeannie said.

‘Right now, I fancy a stroll along rue d’Antibes when we’ve finished here. Have some celebratory retail therapy to mark the occasion! Like a new pair of shoes. How about you?’ Briony smiled at her mum.

‘If I see a pair of sandals I like I might buy a pair, but there’s a large Sephora store up there and I do need some new foundation.’

‘Come on then, drink up.’

The two of them spent a pleasant hour strolling along rue d’Antibes.

Briony found a pair of wedge sandals that were even nicer than the ones she’d spotted earlier that morning and were infinitely more affordable.

Jeannie splashed out on a pair of loafers and in Sephora, she treated herself to not only a new foundation but also a lipstick and a bottle of her favourite perfume Chanel No.

5. Afterwards, for the final treat of the day, they had lunch in the oyster restaurant down near the market.

It was mid-afternoon when they arrived home and Jeannie made straight for the kitchen to make some tea.

Briony put the cushions on the terrace chairs before carrying a parasol out of the shed and slotting it through the centre of the table.

‘Definitely need the shade this afternoon,’ she said as her mum placed two mugs of tea on the table.

‘I’ve had a text from Lucy,’ Jeannie said. ‘We’re invited for Sunday lunch this weekend. Twelve thirty for one.’

‘We can’t refuse a Sunday lunch invitation,’ Briony said, smiling.

‘I’ll text Lucy back and accept. It will be a good time to tell them that you’ve inherited the cottage and we will both be moving here permanently. They’ve been too polite to ask what’s happening, but I expect they’re curious,’ Jeannie said.

A cold breeze sprang up later that day and the two of them retreated to the sitting room for the evening.

Briony, curled up on one of the settees, had headphones on watching a film on her laptop and Jeannie was reading on her Kobo, her mobile on the side table next to her.

When a WhatsApp text pinged in Jeannie glanced at the ID and smiled before surreptitiously glancing at her daughter.

Had she heard the message arrive? Unlikely, she was too engrossed in the film.

Jeannie stretched out her arm to pick up the phone and clicked on the message. It was a reply to one she’d sent Yann earlier that day.

Wonderful news. Is there a timescale? I’m home now, so let me know if I can help in any way. Can we have lunch tomorrow? xx

Jeannie closed the phone down. She’d reply later when she was on her own.

Once they were living over here, she’d have to have a serious chat with Briony.

Explain and hope that Briony would understand and be happy for her, that this – this what?

Her old connection with Yann was definitely growing from a comfortable friendship into something more, but it wasn’t yet a true relationship, more of a liaison. Yes, liaison was probably the word.