Page 29 of Mrs. Endicott's Splendid Adventure
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-soirandLe 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.”
