Page 15 of Mrs. Endicott's Splendid Adventure

Ellie woke to find sunlight pouring into the room.

She had opened the blinds before she went to bed, not wanting to shut out the sparkle of lights on the water and the smell of the sea.

Outside she heard a noise that she first interpreted as babies crying, cats yowling.

She lay trying to process this, looking around her in wonder.

It took a moment to remember where she was.

Then she realized that the noise was the mewing cries of seagulls.

She had slept deeply and peacefully without waking all night.

She got up, went across to the window. Outside, the tiny harbour was a hive of activity.

A fishing boat had come in, and men were now unloading wooden trays of fish on to a lorry that was parked near to where her car had stopped the night before.

Some of the men wore dark-blue jackets or overalls, cotton caps on their heads.

One wore only a singlet above baggy trousers, revealing deeply tanned skin and impressive muscles.

Seagulls wheeled and darted around them.

Beyond the harbour the Mediterranean Sea sparkled in dazzling sunlight.

As she breathed in deeply, her nose picked up the smells of brewing coffee and baking bread. She gave a sigh of content.

After a quick shower in water that never became hotter than lukewarm, Ellie put on the linen trousers she had dared herself to buy in London, along with a white blouse and navy blazer.

A glance in the mirror told her that she looked smart, although she wasn’t quite sure who she wanted to impress in a backwater like this.

It wasn’t Cannes or Antibes, where what you wore mattered.

As she came out of her room, the door beside hers opened and Dora emerged.

She was dressed exactly as Ellie had always known her, same dark suit with a white blouse and a gold brooch.

She was not going to make allowances for the mild climate, clearly.

“Good morning. How did you sleep?” Ellie asked.

“Well enough,” Dora replied, “although I don’t think the rich food and wine agreed with my stomach. And you?”

“Surprisingly well. I think the wine helped. It’s a pretty view, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Very pretty,” Dora agreed.

Hearing voices, Mavis opened her door. She, too, was dressed as she always was at home, in a flowery dress with a hand-knitted cardigan over it. “Oh, you’re up,” she said. “I wondered if I should wake you. I couldn’t half do with a cup of tea. I’ve been awake for hours.”

“The bed wasn’t comfortable?” Dora asked.

Mavis gave an embarrassed shrug. “I ain’t never slept in a room on my own, to tell you the truth,” she said. “I shared a bed with my sisters until I moved in with Reg. And I was worried about bedbugs and fleas.”

“Oh, I think the place is clean enough,” Dora said. “Not the smartest of rooms but clean.”

“And as I lay awake all night, I worried about what was going to happen to me when I went home. My hubby is going to knock the daylights out of me, isn’t he?”

“Then don’t go back to him,” Ellie said.

“All right for you to say.” Mavis’s voice quivered. “But what am I going to do? I don’t have no money, no house, no education—nothing. Where am I going to live? How am I going to support myself?”

“We’ll face that when the time comes,” Ellie said. “I gave you my word that I’d look after you, Mavis. But who knows, we might not want to go back.”

“What, stay here? In a foreign country?” Mavis shot her an alarmed look.

“You may come to like it, Mavis,” Ellie said. “I have to tell you that I’m feeling better already. I’m glad I made this decision, and I’m proud of us for getting this far. I like this place. I’m glad the car died here.”

“No sign of Yvette yet,” Dora said. “She must be sleeping in.” She paused, her hand poised to knock at Yvette’s door.

“Oh, let the poor girl sleep if she has to,” Ellie said. “She may have been on the run for days and needs her rest.”

“I would have thought growing up on a farm she’d be up with the dawn, milking the cows,” Dora said.

“I’ve said it before and I say it now,” Mavis said. “I don’t trust that girl. There’s something about her ...”

“Let’s be charitable, Mavis. She’s pregnant, on her own and scared. We have to help her.”

“So what do you propose to do with her once we reach our destination?” Dora asked. “They won’t take her to work in a hotel if she’s expecting a child.”

“Let’s wait and see, shall we?” Ellie asked. “At the moment let’s enjoy this glorious sunny day, and I smell coffee brewing.”

She headed for the stairs. The other women followed her.

The dining room was to the right of the reception area and faced the harbour.

Again it was simple, with small tables covered in checked gingham cloths.

They took a seat in the window, watching the activity outside as the last of the catch was unloaded.

“Good morning, ladies.” Mrs Adams came in, looking friendlier than last night. “I hope you slept well.”

“We did, thank you,” Ellie replied.

“You all like coffee?” she asked. “I can do tea if you’d rather. We have tea sent out from England on account of the English visitors liking a taste of home.”

“I’d like tea, if it’s not too much trouble,” Mavis said.

Mrs Adams smiled at her. “From London, are you, ducks?”

“That’s right. Born and bred in the East End just like you.”

“We’ve both come a long way, then, ain’t we?

” Mrs Adams said. “I can see we’ll have some good old chats once you’ve settled in.

” She nodded to Mavis. “That’s the one thing I miss about living in this place.

People to have a chat with. We get English guests during the season, but they are usually a snooty lot and don’t want to talk with the likes of me.

” She smoothed down her apron. “Well, I can’t stand here all day, can I?

I’ll have Mr A. bring your breakfast in. ”

“Well done, Mavis,” Dora said as she departed. “You’ve tamed the dragon.”

They looked up as a scrawny and unassuming little man came in, bearing a tray.

He had a drooping moustache and eyes that turned down at the corners, giving him a perpetually sad look.

Ellie’s immediate thought was Jack Sprat and his wife—the enormous, overbearing woman and her tiny, henpecked husband.

“Here you go, ladies,” he said and unloaded the contents of the tray.

He had the gravelly voice of someone who coughed frequently.

There was a basket of croissants and a sliced baguette with butter and apricot jam, along with plates, cups and cutlery.

“Coffee and tea will be out in a jiff,” he said. “I hope you enjoy your stay with us.”

“Thank you,” they muttered.

“Out from England, then, eh? What part?”

“Surrey,” Ellie said. “Not far from Guildford.”

“Oh, right. Surrey. I remember riding my old bike up the Hogs Back. You know that hill, right? Blimey, it was a hard slog. But it’s lovely country, Surrey. So green.”

“Do you miss it?” Dora asked.

“Sometimes. Yeah, I do.”

Ellie nodded with understanding.

“I don’t suppose you get many English visitors, do you?”

He finished unloading the tray and stood, hugging the tray to his front.

“Oh, we get our share, during the season. We have regulars who come every January, February. Old ladies, retired colonels. Especially those people who’ve lived in India.

They feel the cold back in England. But we don’t often get English guests this time of year,” he added.

“Planning to spend the winter, are you?”

“Somewhere on the Riviera,” Ellie said. “We had car trouble yesterday, which is why we’re here.”

“Yeah, I suppose you want to go to one of them fancy places,” he said. “Not much to do here, really, unless you like peace and quiet.”

“So what do your other English guests do, during the season?” Dora asked.

“They make their own entertainment, really,” he said. “The doctor’s wife has musical evenings. They have play readings; there’s whist and bridge, and quite a few of them are painters. Do any of you paint?”

They shook their heads.

“Lovely landscapes for painting here. If you hike around the Calanques.”

“The what?” Mavis asked.

“The coastline between here and Marseille—all these little bays with steep sides. Lovely, they are, if you don’t mind a good, stiff walk.

” He glanced out of the window. “We’ve got a resident painter here.

Quite well known, he is. I expect you’ll meet him if you stick around.

” He stared out of the window again, then turned back.

“Of course, at quiet times like this, between seasons, there’s not much going on.

” He leaned closer. “Between you, me and the gatepost, it gets bloody boring at times. Oh, don’t get me wrong, the French people are nice enough here, and we sort of fit in now, but it’s not the same as at home, is it?

We don’t laugh at the same things. They don’t enjoy a pint down the pub, and they don’t—”

“Abe, don’t stand there gossiping all day,” came the fierce voice from outside. “Go and fetch the ladies their coffee.”

“It’s clear who rules the roost in that household,” Dora muttered as he shuffled off again.

Breakfast was quite satisfying. The bread was still warm from the oven, and the coffee was made with hot milk.

Ellie found she had quite an appetite, different from when she used to eat just the one piece of toast at home.

“Home.” She toyed with the word. It was no longer home.

She had no home. That was alarming but also freeing.

She could go where she wanted, do what she wanted, and nobody was going to stop her.

“So the first order of the day should be to have the mechanic see to the car,” Dora said as she put her napkin back on the table.

“And to wake that girl. It’s not healthy to lounge in bed all day.

I hope we can soon be on our way and deposit her somewhere.

She’s a liability I don’t personally want. ”

“I agree,” Ellie said, “but I also worry about her. We can’t just turn her loose in a strange town.”

“I would imagine that somewhere as big as Nice would have charities that take in girls in difficult situations,” Dora said.

Mr Adams came in again. “Enjoyed your breakfast?” he asked.

“That’s good. At least they make good bread here.

The bakery’s just across on the other side of the harbour.

We get baguettes fresh twice a day. And the fish, of course.

We get great fish. Oh, and would you like to see the newspapers?

The lorry always brings us newspapers from Marseille when it comes. Sometimes even an English one.”

He put down a couple of French newspapers on the table and loaded the dirty plates on to his tray.

“Fat lot of good these are.” Mavis prodded them. Paris-soir and Le Figaro .

“Maybe you should start learning French, Mavis,” Dora said. “If the Adamses can do it, so can you.”

Mavis shot her a suspicious look. “What, me? Get me tongue around them words? I don’t see that happening in a hurry.”

“It would be a challenge while we are here,” Dora said. “And just think, if you go back to England and want to get a job, having a second language would be an enormous benefit.”

Mavis considered this. “Nasty-looking bunch there.” She pointed at a grainy photograph on the front page. “What are they, anarchists? Communists?”

Ellie read the text.

“They are a gang of bank robbers, just been apprehended in Paris,” she said.

“Blimey. If there are criminals like that everywhere, I don’t know that I’ll feel safe,” Mavis said. “Look at them blokes with knives in Marseille.”

“I doubt that organized crime will reach Saint-Benet,” Dora said with a smile. “So maybe we should stay here.”

Mavis was still staring. “I don’t know. One of them blokes looks like that man who carried the bags. Swarthy type.”

At that moment there was an intake of breath behind them. They turned to see Yvette standing there. “I am so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I have just seen the sea in the daylight. Look at it. So big. It seems to go on forever.”

“Not forever, Yvette,” Dora said. “If you swim far enough, you will arrive at the coast of Africa.”

“Unless you bump into Corsica on the way,” Ellie said with a smile. “And then Sardinia and perhaps Sicily. I’m not sure if they are all in a line.”

Yvette looked puzzled. Then she said, “I am sorry. It seems I am too late for breakfast. I have never slept so late in my life.”

“You must have needed the sleep,” Ellie said, leading her over to the table. “Worry and fear can be exhausting. But sit down, and I will have Monsieur Adams bring you food and coffee.” She pushed the newspapers towards Yvette. “And in the meantime, you can read these.”

“Alas, madame, I do not know how to read well,” Yvette said, pushing the newspapers away. “Only the most basic of words that we were taught in school.”

“Then this would be a good time for you to improve your education,” Ellie said. “You and Mavis shall have a lesson every day.”

“What’s that about me?” Mavis had not understood the conversation.

“I told Yvette that you and she will have a lesson in reading and writing French every day.”

“Blimey. If I’d known it was going to be like school, I wouldn’t have come,” Mavis muttered.