Page 18 of Falling for Provence

‘Oui. C’est ça.’

It was Julien who broke the next silence, albeit reluctantly, as they got caught up in traffic entering Vence.

‘Besides… I think I owe you an apology,’ he said. ‘I was not very polite when I first met you.’

The sound Ellie made was somewhat strangled as she changed her mind about agreeing with him too readily.

‘I was… worried about my son.’

‘I understand… I was worried about him, too, when I saw him so close to the donkeys.’

‘The donkeys are very gentle. Theo adores them. That was why we started looking after them. Gave them names.’

‘You gave them names?’

He nodded. ‘Coquelicot and Marguerite.’ He slid a sideways glance towards Ellie. ‘Because of the flowers.’

She must have looked blank. ‘Amargueriteis a daisy,’ he added. ‘I forget the word forcoquelicot– I must be losing some of my English. The flower for remembrance?’

‘A poppy?’

‘Oui. C’est ça.’ Julien nodded. ‘Poppy.’

‘Daisy and Poppy,’ Ellie echoed. ‘Cute names.’

‘They are French donkeys.’ His tone was a reprimand. ‘CoquelicotandMarguerite.’

‘Mmm.’ Ellie wasn’t going to argue. ‘Did you know the previous owner of the property?’ Her tone was tentative. It felt disloyal, in a way, to be asking about someone who had caused her mother obvious distress.

Julien shook his head. ‘We moved into our house less than a year ago. We were told that your house had already been empty for some years. Nobody knows where the donkeys came from.’ His sideways glance was vaguely accusatory. ‘I didn’t know that the property was for sale. There was no sign.’

‘It wasn’t for sale. It belonged to an uncle I’d never met. He died recently and my sisters and I inherited the property. I’m staying here long enough to get it tidied up, and then it will go on the market.’

His grunt in response sounded approving. Because his nuisance neighbour was only temporary? Ellie wasn’t really offended. He might not like her, but he was going out of his way to help her right now, wasn’t he? It was a relief to be with someone who could speak her language and… okay… she had to admit that his accent was a delight to listen to.

‘Where did you learn to speak such good English?’ she asked, as he took a turn that went downhill, past a sign that advertised the municipal swimming pool.

‘I spent some years in England at boarding school. I also went to university there. Before I came back to go to medical school in France.’

‘Oh… you’re a doctor.’ So that explained why he looked as if he knew what he was doing checking a small boy for injuries. It also explained why he had been concerned about the graze on her elbow. That it had been a purely professional interest in her wellbeing felt disappointing for some reason.

What wasn’t disappointing was that Julien took charge as they entered the veterinary clinic. She would have been totally lost trying to communicate, so she just stood to one side, listening to the flow of conversation. The two men seemed to know each other and had a lot to talk about initially, but then things got quieter as the vet examined the dog and used a scanning device to try and locate a microchip.

Julien didn’t interrupt the conversation or examination to translate anything for her, so Ellie waited patiently at one side of the consulting room until she found herself the object of attention from both men.

‘The dog does not have apuce,’ Julien told her. ‘And the clinic knows that there’s no room at the local rescue centre because they had reason to speak to them about another dog earlier today.’

‘Okay.’ Ellie nodded. ‘Is his leg broken?’

‘No. Sprained, probably. And he has a badly bruised paw.’

He exchanged a meaningful glance with the vet. ‘Christophe has already exhausted any means to care for a dog like this with the one they had earlier. He says that most vets would suggest that the kindest thing to do would be to euthanise him.’

Ellie’s jaw dropped. ‘Killhim? Because he’s got a bruised paw?’

‘He’s old,’ Julien told her. ‘Possibly more than ten years. And he’s clearly been homeless for some time. He’s too thin and he’s very dirty.’

Ellie looked at the dog. He was certainly scruffy, and he had the saddest eyes she had ever seen. He was still shivering, but he’d been surprisingly brave during the examination and had only whimpered rather than yelped when his leg had been touched. And he hadn’t shown any signs of wanting to bite anyone.

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