Page 13 of Mrs. Endicott's Splendid Adventure

Ellie got out of the car, her hands stiff from gripping the steering wheel so tightly, and looked around.

To the left of the harbour there was a bar or café with a group of men sitting at an outdoor table.

At that moment she noticed a man stand up from the group at the bar and come towards her.

He was a big man with unruly, dark curly hair, a hint of stubble at his chin and a scowl on his face.

He was wearing an old open-necked shirt, revealing a hairy chest. There was a sense of menace in the purposeful way he strode towards them.

Behind her she heard Mavis give a little gasp of alarm.

“Hey, what do you think you are doing? This is not a place to station your car. Move it at once,” he roared in French, waving his arms as if shooing away pigeons. He took in the Bentley. “You think because you are English that you can park wherever you wish, eh?”

Ellie turned to face him. His eyes were flashing angrily, and his whole appearance was quite alarming. She took an involuntary step back. “I am sorry,” she said, trying to form French sentences in her head. “We have had a small problem. We need a garage for the car.”

She saw him realize that she was a woman, not a man. “There is no garage here, madame.” He was still glaring at her but no longer roaring. “You must move your vehicle. The lorry comes to pick up the fish first thing in the morning and must station itself here.”

He was now towering over her, at least six feet tall, and burly but not fat. Muscular. She couldn’t tell how old he was. Maybe forties? Fifties? His hair showed no signs of grey in the failing light, but his face was weathered from a life in the sun.

“Monsieur, I’m afraid the car will not move. There was smoke, steam. I don’t know what’s wrong, but now it has stopped. It will not go.” She found she, too, was using her hands to speak. “Is there no garage nearby? No mechanic?”

She thought she saw a flicker of amusement in those dark eyes.

“There is Louis,” he said. “He does the repairs around here. Everything—boat engines, plumbing, probably automobiles. He will be able to tell you what is wrong. And maybe be able to acquire the parts you need.” He gave a very Gallic shrug meaning “maybe yes, maybe no.” When she didn’t respond, assessing this, he went on: “We are not much in need of automobiles here. Monsieur Danton has one, he is the notaire. The doctor ... And the priest has a small Citroen. But apart from that ...”

Again he shrugged.

“So how do you get into the nearest town? Is there a bus?”

He smiled now, the smile completely changing his face. He was younger than she had thought. “Oh no, madame. No autobus. There is the postal van, a lorry that brings supplies once a week, and we sometimes take the boat into La Ciotat or even to Marseille. It’s not too long a journey on a good day.”

“Oh, I see.” She looked around. The other men at the table were now watching with frank interest. “Could you direct me to this Louis? Would he still be working, do you think?”

Now he laughed. “Oh no, madame. Louis is sitting here, with us, drinking wine. He will attend to you in the morning. In the meantime, however, we must move your automobile.” He shouted something to his friends.

As they came across from the bar, Ellie asked, “Is there a hotel where we can spend the night?”

“I regret there is not, but there is the pension,” he said. “Pension Victoria, named after your queen who used to come here to spend the winter, as you probably know.”

“Here, to this place?”

He was still smiling, making him look less formidable. “No, not exactly here, but to Hyères, which is not too far away. And of course to Nice and Antibes.”

“Where is this pension?” Ellie looked around but saw no large buildings amongst those lining the waterfront.

“The yellow house at the far end of the harbour—you see?”

The house didn’t look any different from any of the other buildings around the harbour. A little larger, with faded green shutters. “And they will have space, do you think?”

“Madame, who comes here in October?” he asked. “It is not yet winter; it is no longer summer. They will have rooms for you.”

“What’s going on, Nico? What is her problem?” one of the men asked as they approached.

“The car doesn’t go. We must move it,” the first man said. He peered into the car. “Oh, you have brought your family with you. These ladies must get out before we move the car. We are strong men, but there are limits to what we can push.”

Ellie leaned in. “You have to get out.”

“Are we about to be murdered?” Mavis asked as men surrounded the car.

“I don’t think so. They are trying to help. They are going to move the car off the road for tonight. There is a pension where we can sleep.”

“I suppose we have no choice.” Dora climbed out, moving stiffly after sitting for so long. “It’s not a bad place to spend the night—rather attractive, in fact.”

Yvette got out, too, moving hastily to stand near Ellie. “I do not like the look of these men, madame,” she said. “I heard there are corsairs in the south. Pirates. Brigands.”

“I’m sure we’re safe enough, Yvette,” Ellie said. As she spoke, one of the men slid into the driver’s seat. The others pushed, and the car was steered off to the left, then manoeuvred next to the harbour wall.

“It will be safe there for tonight,” the first man said. “Would you like us to escort you to the pension?”

“What about our luggage?” Ellie stared at the car. “I don’t like to leave it overnight in the motor car.”

“Who would take it?” Again the man looked amused. “We are the only people here. Outsiders do not come at this time of year. And we have no need of your possessions, I assure you. There is not much crime in our village. In this place nobody locks a door.”

“But we will need our small valises,” Ellie said. “And this lady is too frail to carry hers all that way.”

The man turned back. “Jacquot. Aid these ladies. They will go to the pension. Francois, come.”

Immediately another man picked up some of the bags while the big man took the rest. The third man insisted on taking Dora by the arm, although she tried to tell him she could manage without help.

The big man strode out ahead of them, following the harbour wall around until they came to the last building, set against the cliffside.

It had crumbling yellow paint and faded green shutters, but above the door was the sign “Pension Victoria.”

The first man, whom Ellie had heard called Nico by the others, pushed open the door, and they found themselves in a small, spartan reception area with a counter at one end.

The floor was tiled, and the only adornment was a side table containing some tired silk flowers and a poster advertising the C?te d’Azur on the wall.

“Hello. Madame? Anyone there? We have brought customers for you,” he shouted in French, impatiently hitting the bell.

After a while a woman appeared from a back room, hastily untying her apron as she came.

She was a large woman with several chins and an impressive chest, her hair back in an old-fashioned bun.

The small eyes that surveyed them were not friendly.

“Bonsoir, madame.” Ellie stepped forward. “Our motor car has broken down. We are in need of rooms for the night. We are four ladies.”

The woman picked up on Ellie’s accent. “You are English?” she asked in that language.

“Yes.” Ellie looked at her in surprise because the accent definitely had a tinge of cockney. “My name is Endicott.”

“Well, blow me down,” she said. “We don’t get too many English. Not at this time of year, anyway. I’m Alice Adams. Me and the hubby run this place.”

“What a surprise,” Ellie said. “Have you been out here long?”

“Seventeen years, isn’t it?” Mrs Adams did a quick mental calculation. “Yeah. Quite a long time now. Sometimes I’m surprised myself it’s been so long.” She gave a little chuckle.

“What made you come out here in the first place?” Ellie asked.

Mrs Adams leaned across the counter as if she were conveying a secret.

“Mr Adams got gassed during the Great War. Horrible, it was. His lungs were shot. He couldn’t go back to his job with the building company.

In fact, the doctor told him he didn’t have long to live.

So I said to him, ‘What you need is sunshine and good food.’ He thought I was mad, bringing him out to France again, where he didn’t exactly have the best memories.

But I thought sunshine might help. And it did.

We liked it, sold our little house, cashed in his life insurance policy and bought this place.

We make just enough to keep our heads above water.

But enough about me. What are you ladies doing? On a European tour, are you?”

“We’re on an extended holiday,” Ellie said. “We had intended to get as far as Hyères tonight, but the motor car had other ideas. We’ll be here until the motor can be fixed. Only a few days. So you’ve rooms for us?”

“These are your maids?” Mrs Adams asked, eyeing Mavis and Yvette.

“Travelling companions,” Ellie said.

“We’ve only got two singles,” Mrs Adams said. “Who wants to share?”

“Mavis and Yvette can have the singles,” Ellie said. “Miss Smith-Humphries will want a decent room. So shall I. We can both take doubles.”

“Right you are. Facing the waterfront, I expect?” She nodded.

“Right. That will be ...” She paused. “Let’s say two hundred francs.

” Having stayed two nights in France, one at a superior hotel, Ellie knew immediately that they were being gouged.

She turned back to the men, who were waiting patiently behind them, presumably not having understood this conversation.

“Is this a fair amount to pay at this time of year, do you think?” she asked in French, giving him the quote.