Page 18 of Mrs. Endicott's Splendid Adventure

Henri was prepared for them at the bar that night. He served a lentil soup followed by small fried fish and a salad of tomatoes, red peppers and crumbled white cheese.

“Oh, whitebait, how lovely,” Dora said. “I used to be very fond of whitebait.”

“You are in luck, mesdames,” Henri said. “There was a good catch brought in today. The bigger fish go to the market in Marseille, but we keep the ones they can’t sell. The anchovies are good, no?”

Mavis looked down suspiciously at the fish, still with their heads on and eyes staring up at her. “I’ve had fish and chips,” she said, “but I ain’t seen anything like this.”

“They’re delicious, Mavis,” Dora said. “Try one.”

The fish were cooked perfectly in a light coating, crunchy on the outside, moist in the middle.

Mavis had to be reassured it was all right to eat the bones and they wouldn’t get stuck in her throat and choke her.

After this, Henri brought out small pots of crème br?lée and gave a shy smile when complimented.

“You are wasted here, Henri,” Dora said. “You said you were a chef at a hotel in one of the resorts. Why did you leave?”

Henri shrugged. “This suits me better,” he said.

“I am my own chef here.” The word “chef” meant “boss” in French.

“At the hotel I had to obey the whims of the owners and the customers. Don’t serve it with so much cream.

Serve it with more cream. No garlic. More garlic.

Here I can create a dish, and if they don’t like it, tant pis. Too bad.”

“But do you have enough to do, to make a living?” Dora persisted.

“Now it is quiet. In the season there is plenty to do. The English come in January, February. The French in the summer. Then I hire people to help me. Nico’s mother comes to help cook.”

“Nico?” Ellie asked, attentive now. “The big man with the deep voice?”

“That’s the one.”

“His parents live here?”

“His father is dead. He takes care of his mother. But she does not like to be idle. She rents out a couple of rooms at her house, and she helps me cook.”

“And Nico fishes for a living?”

Henri shrugged. “Sometimes. When he feels like it. He does not need to work all the time like the rest of them.”

“What does everyone do here?” Ellie asked. “Is there enough work?”

“When the visitors come, of course. There is enough work for everyone in Saint-Benet.”

“And at the other times, what does everyone do?”

“The men fish,” he said. “Or they go to work in Marseille or Toulon for a while.”

They paid the bill and got up to leave.

“If you are here for a few days, I shall import supplies and cook you a proper meal.”

“I can’t tell how long we shall be here,” Ellie said. “It depends how soon Louis can mend my broken car.”

“He is a good man, Louis,” Henri said. “He will do his best.”

They parted company and went back to the pension.

Ellie realized that Mavis and Yvette had been quite silent, Mavis because she didn’t understand and Yvette because she was probably too shy to join in.

Her eyes followed Yvette as she went up the stairs.

What was going to happen to her? She’d have to give up the child if the father could not be located.

And even if he was found, he could not leave his post with the army to come home and marry her.

Perhaps he had not told her his location on purpose.

Men were quite happy to deceive young girls, to promise them love to get them into bed.

She shook her head. There was nothing she could do about it at the moment.

At least Yvette was safe. When they got to a bigger place, Ellie would try to get her settled.

They woke to another brilliantly sunny day, the water sparkling, the fishermen calling out to each other as they worked on their boats or put out to sea. They were in the middle of breakfast when they heard Mrs Adams speaking with someone.

“I’m sure they wouldn’t want to see the likes of you,” she said, her voice harsh.

Ellie assumed it was a beggar or other undesirable.

But then she thought she heard what sounded like an English voice.

Out of curiosity she stood up and went through to the foyer.

A tall, fit-looking man was standing there.

His grey hair was neatly parted, and he sported a thin Ronald Colman moustache.

He was wearing a royal-blue open-necked shirt with a white silk cravat at the neck and white linen trousers.

His tanned face broke into a smile when he saw her.

“A very good morning to you, dear lady,” he said in a smooth, educated English voice. “We heard that English guests had arrived, so we thought it only courteous to come and greet you and welcome you to Saint-Benet.”

“Thank you.” Ellie returned his smile.

“I am Thomas Ramsey,” he said. “Resident of this place.”

“Ellie Endicott.” Ellie shook the hand he had extended. She could see Mrs Adams still glaring and couldn’t understand what there was not to like about the gentleman.

“I came to invite you to luncheon today, if you’ve nothing on your calendar.”

“How very kind. Thank you,” Ellie replied. “We shall be delighted. There are four of us. Is that all right?”

“The more the merrier,” he said. “I’ll expect you at twelve, then. It’s the last house on the right up the street beside the tabac. Up against the hillside. Lovely view.”

Then he gave another smile, a sort of half salute, and left. Mrs Adams was still scowling.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said. “He’s one of them, you know.” She leaned closer, as if she were imparting a secret. “He lives with another man. Lived with him here for years, right out in the open, like.”

“Well, I lived with a man for years,” Ellie said. “I don’t think it did me too much harm.”

“That’s not the same thing at all, is it?” Mrs Adams said angrily. “That’s how God intended it. Not the unnatural way.”

“I’ve no idea what God intended,” Ellie said. “He seemed like a nice gentleman, and I’m only going to have lunch with him.”

She relayed the information back to the others.

“What was there about him that made her so shirty?” Mavis asked.

“He lives with another man, Mavis,” Ellie replied.

“So what’s wrong with that?” Mavis asked. “It’s nice to have company and to share the rent.”

“I think there’s more to it than that,” Ellie said. “I think Mrs Adams meant they are a couple.”

“A what?” Mavis gave an uncomprehending stare.

“You know. Living together. Like Noel Coward.”

Recognition slowly dawned. “Oh? Oh, I get it now.” She turned bright red.

Ellie had expected disapproval from Dora, but she merely shrugged. “It should prove interesting,” she said.

Actually Ellie was surprised at her own easy acceptance.

She tried to remember if she had ever actually met a homosexual.

She knew all about Noel Coward—everyone did.

He was famous enough to be adored and thus not judged.

But she also knew that Oscar Wilde had gone to prison and had died soon afterward.

Lionel had always been vocal in his disapproval of such things. He called them “bloody fairies.”

But then, Lionel had disapproved of anyone who did not think and act the way he did. Thomas Ramsey seemed like a nice, polite man. She would be interested to have a chance to chat with him.

Just before noon they set off. Yvette had excused herself, saying the conversation would be in English and she would not understand. So they left her at the pension with some provisions for lunch.

“We’ll have to make some sort of decision about that girl,” Dora said as they walked away. “She can’t stay with us indefinitely.”

“What would you have me do, put her on the lorry and drop her off in Marseille?” Ellie replied testily.

“Of course I’m concerned about her. I want to help her.

When we’re settled I will write to the French war ministry and try to locate her young man.

At least then he can take responsibility for a child if he wants to.

If not, then we’ll have to think again. The world is not kind to unmarried mothers. ”

“She got herself into this position,” Dora said with a sniff of disapproval.

“Young girls in love make foolish decisions. Young men find it easy to persuade them there is marriage in the future. I don’t know how I might have acted at Yvette’s age if I’d been seduced by a more experienced man.

As it happened, Lionel was my first real boyfriend, and he wasn’t the seducing type. ” She had to laugh at this.

Mavis took Dora’s arm as they started to climb the steep cobbled street.

Stray cats slunk into shadows. Laundry flapped from balconies.

A baby cried, a dog barked. The houses on either side of them did not look too promising, but when they came to the top of the street, where it ended up against the cream-coloured rocks, there was another house, set apart, painted butter yellow with light-blue shutters.

Before they could knock on the door, it opened, and Thomas Ramsey stood there.

“Dear ladies, welcome. Do come in,” he said. He held out his hand to Dora.

“This is Miss Smith-Humphries, and Mavis Moss.” Ellie made the introductions.

“Pleased to meet you,” Mavis said, eyeing him gingerly.

“Please call me Mr Tommy,” the man said. “That’s what everyone calls me around here.”

“As you can see we are only three,” Ellie said as they stepped into a flagstone front hall. “The French girl who accompanied us doesn’t speak English so stayed behind.”

“She’s your maid?”

“She’s a young woman we rescued from a bad situation,” Ellie said. “Now we have to decide what to do with her next.”