Page 32 of A French Inheritance

There was still no sign of Elliot and Luna on Monday evening a week later as Briony and Meg walked to the lake.

Briony began to wonder if something was wrong.

Lucy hadn’t said anything when she was up at the farm on Saturday and she hadn’t liked to ask, figuring that Lucy would have mentioned if something was amiss.

Elliot was probably simply busy, although surely he still had to walk Luna?

Back at the cottage, Briony spread the contents of the open box from the attic onto the dining-room table.

Carefully, she sorted it into piles: letters, postcards, photos, birthday cards and random bits of paper and several Cannes Film Festival programmes from the late forties and fifties.

The five-year diary she put to one side before trying to decide what to do with everything.

The Film Festival programmes would make an interesting display somewhere in the cottage once framed.

She knew too that they were infinitely collectable and would sell instantly to film buffs.

To her surprise, many of the postcards were photos of New York and most were blank.

Some had simple phrases written on them ‘This would make a wonderful painting’ or ‘This place would inspire you’.

Sometimes in the corner of the card were the initials ‘EM’.

Lots of unused postcards were photos of Paris between the two world wars.

Several newspaper cuttings about the social life on the Riviera in the early thirties were on the very bottom.

The black-and-white photographs were mainly formal family pictures of people who were long dead.

There were a couple of a pretty young girl with incredibly sad eyes that caught Briony’s attention.

She picked up a formal marriage photograph mounted in an old-fashioned fold-over cardboard frame. Was it the same girl? Who was she?

Deep in thought, Briony picked up her phone when it pinged with an incoming text.

Been enjoying the scenery too much! ETA midday Wednesday. Have the kettle on. Dying for a good cup of tea. Gerry.

Briony smiled as she read the text. Gerry was well known for his tea addiction.

But as she put her phone down, she could feel herself starting to panic. Where was all the stuff from England going to go?

* * *

Wednesday morning and Briony was ready and waiting with a large plate of pain au chocolate and plenty of tea bags when Gerry and his mate drew up outside the cottage.

‘Great place you’ve got here,’ Gerry said, jumping out of the cab of the lorry. ‘Quite fancy moving to France myself. Seen some beautiful places on our drive down. Loved Carcassone, which is why we’re a day late. Right, cup of tea and then we’ll unload.’

Watching Gerry unlock the van doors half an hour later, Briony’s initial thought was ‘Mum hasn’t brought much furniture’ but then she realised just how many boxes there were stacked in the van. And then there was her own stuff, some of which she hadn’t seen since she’d left Marcus.

She showed Gerry the dining room and suggested he put all the boxes in there and she and Jeannie would sort them out at their leisure. It was almost summer and most meals would be eaten out on the terrace for the next few months so they wouldn’t be using the dining room anyway.

After the van was unloaded, Briony asked Gerry if he would mind dragging several things she wanted to work on out of the garage and into the garden for her. The bicycle she remembered riding as a child, the wooden handcart and the parrot cage were soon outside the garden shed.

Gerry turned down her offer of food. ‘Going to go and take a look at Cannes. Have something to eat down there. Find somewhere to stay before heading back tomorrow. I’m thinking the wife might like a holiday down here sometime.’

Briony paid Gerry, gave him a generous tip and waved him goodbye before turning back into the cottage.

So much to do! But first she needed something to eat and then she’d spend the next few hours starting to sort out some of the boxes before taking Meg for her evening walk.

Sitting out on the terrace with some slices of baguette and a cheese salad and a small glass of rosé, Briony gave a happy sigh as she looked down the garden towards the owls’ tree.

Things really were starting to come together now for this new life in France.

Her mobile rang at that moment and she hurriedly picked it up when she saw the English number.

‘Maeve. How lovely to hear from you. How are you? I’m so sorry I’ve not been in touch. How’s the new old job going?’

‘Surprisingly well,’ Maeve said. ‘Much better than I ever expected it. How’s life in France?’

‘Busy, busy,’ and Briony gave her friend a potted version of her life since she’d arrived back, the plans she had for a brocante and the fact she now had a dog.

‘Gerry delivered all of our things today. I’m just having a bite to eat before tackling a few boxes and taking Meg for a walk.

Hopefully meeting up with Elliot and his dog Luna, the two dogs play together really well. ’

‘Stop. Who is Elliot?’

‘The good friend who found me Meg. He’s a vet and lives here on his brother’s farm. He’s helped me a lot since I moved into the cottage.’

‘Single? Handsome?’

‘Yes to both of those but he, like me, is recently divorced and neither of us are looking for a relationship at the moment, so like I said, a good friend. How are the girls?’ Briony asked before Maeve could ask more probing questions.

Thankfully Maeve took the hint and the conversation moved on to other things.

The call ended five minutes later with Briony promising to keep in touch more and reminding Maeve that she had an invitation to visit whenever she wanted to.

Thoughtfully Briony finished her wine and took her dirty dishes back into the kitchen.

Time to make a start on unpacking her old life and starting to merge it into her new life here in France.