Page 27 of Mrs. Endicott's Splendid Adventure
Dora examined it. “It’s squid, Mavis. Squid tentacles.”
“What’s that?” Mavis was still staring at it with a look of horror on her face.
“It’s a sea creature. Like an octopus,” Dora said, prodding her own bowl. “In fact, there is also octopus in the stew. This is obviously abouillabaisse. A fish stew. I remember eating it when I stayed here years ago. Rather good, I remember.”
Yvette’s reaction was similar. She prodded her bowl uncertainly. “I have never seen such things,” she said. “Do they try to poison us?”
“Nonsense. I’m sure it’s quite delicious,” Dora said and bravely put a piece of octopus into her mouth. It proved to be rather chewy, but she kept a smile on her face until she had swallowed it. Ellie tried the broth first. It was garlicky, with lots of onions and tomatoes. An unfamiliar taste, but she quite liked it. She also hesitated at the squid tentacles but bravely ate hers, enjoying the shrimp, mussels and pieces of fish more.
“I expect we’ll have to get used to a different way of eating now we’re here,” she said.
“When we are at a proper hotel, I’m sure they will cater more to English taste,” Dora said. “I am not a big fan of garlic and onions. My mother would never allow them. She said they make the breath smell, and a lady’s breath should only ever smell of peppermint.”
In spite of their reservations, they emptied the big bowl, using the last of the bread to wipe their plates. When they had finished, Henri produced a basket of figs and grapes along with more bread and a plate of cheeses. He also replaced the carafe of wine.
“You enjoyed your meal?” one of the men called from the next table.
“Thank you. It was good,” Ellie replied.
“Henri, he is a good cook,” the man said, nodding to Henri, who was now standing in the doorway with the bill in his hand. “He was once a chef at a big hotel in Nice, correct, Henri?”
“That is true,” Henri said, “but I inherited this place, and it suits me better. When I have more time, I will cook for you ladies.”
“I’m afraid we’ll only be here until the vehicle is mended,” Ellie said. “Then we will be going to one of the bigger resorts for the winter.”
“Of course. Your husbands will be joining you?”
“We have no husbands, monsieur,” Ellie said.
“Ah, they are widows,” Ellie heard another of the men mutter. She decided not to correct him. Besides, she did not know the French wordfor divorce, and she assumed that in a Catholic country it would be frowned upon. She paid the bill, quite a modest amount, and stood up.
“Good night, gentlemen,” she said, “and thank you for all your help.”
“I will take a look at your motor car in the morning,” an older man with a shock of grey hair called to them. Louis, obviously. “Do not worry yourselves. It will be made right.”
Ellie felt content and a little tipsy as they walked back to the pension. She opened the windows and breathed in the soft night air with the tang of salt to it. As she lay down to sleep, she found that the tension she had been carrying for the past weeks had melted away. It didn’t matter if the car had broken down or if it would take days to mend. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t reached their final destination and didn’t even know where they were going. The worst was behind them. She had found her way through France. They were here at the Mediterranean, and everything was going to be all right.
Chapter 11
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.”
