Page 48 of Mrs. Endicott's Splendid Adventure
“Those shutters will need replacing for a start,” Louis said, having managed to understand some of the English. “I think I’ve got some shutters somewhere in my workshop. I will search them out for you.”
Ellie opened the front door, and they followed her inside, looking around the marble foyer with interest.
“Lovely. Quite lovely,” Clive said. “Whoever designed this had great taste. Look at the sweep of that staircase. You could come gliding down that in a ballgown.”
Ellie laughed. “I don’t see that happening. I doubt there are too many balls in Saint-Benet.”
“You’ll need to see about reconnecting the electricity for a start,” Tommy said. “And the water. I wonder if you’re on a well up here or if it comes up from the village? And how is the place heated?” Ellie showed him the porcelain stoves. “They will need a good deal of wood in the winter. Where is the boiler? Are there no radiators? Maybe we can arrange to put a couple in for you.”
As he spoke Ellie was having second thoughts. She had been so caught up with the romanticism that she hadn’t considered the realities. Nothing worked. Everything was old beyond belief. How would they find wood and a well, light stoves? She stopped as she heard Mavis’s voice.
“Yeah, I’ve used one like this,” she said. “It looks sound enough.” And Ellie found her standing with Louis as they examined the kitchen stove.
Louis seemed to have understood her because he nodded. “It needs cleaning out,” he said. “This lady will do a good job.”
“He says you’ll do a good job, Mavis,” Dora said. “I think he’s got eyes on you.”
“Don’t be silly,” Mavis laughed and blushed.
By the end of the morning Louis had checked out the boiler, the bathroom geyser and the roof. He told them he could get everything back in working order and even put in a radiator based on the present boiler, but he wasn’t going to tackle the roof. He had a fear of heights, he said. They’d have to call in someone else for that. But he thought he knew someone ...
Meanwhile Tommy and Clive had been examining walls and furniture with Dora and made lots of notes about what was needed.
“If we listen to them, we’ll be bankrupt in a week,” Dora muttered to Ellie as they made their way down again. “That Clive fellow might have a good eye for colour, but he has extravagant tastes. Silk wallpaper indeed. Just because it was once silk, we’re not going to replace it. I see nothing wrong with plain white walls, do you?”
Ellie smiled. “With a view like that through the windows, I don’t think the walls matter much.”
A shriek from the dining room made her go running. Clive was standing there, pointing. “A mouse,” he said. “A mouse just ran across the floor, right in front of me.”
“We know there have been mice,” Ellie said. “We’ve seen the damage they have caused. We’ll bring up traps from the village.”
“What you need is a cat,” Clive said. “There are certainly plenty of those in need of a good home. I’ll keep my eye out for a nice kitten.”
Ellie went through to the music room, taking the dust cover from the grand piano. She ran her hand over the smooth surface, feeling a shiver of joy. A piano, like the one she had left behind. She sat on the bench, opened the lid and tentatively touched some notes, then some chords, then did a run up the octaves. It clearly needed tuning, but the notes seemed to be all there.
“Oh, there you are.” Dora came in. “I thought I heard music. Is it still playable?”
“After a tuning,” Ellie said. “Do you play?”
Dora shook her head. “I never learned, but I have always enjoyed listening to someone else play.”
Ellie closed the lid again. “I shall so enjoy sitting here, with this lovely view, playing and thinking of the opera singer, sitting here before me.”
Dora shook her head. “You never struck me as a romantic before now,” she said. “I think this trip has awakened a new side of you.”
Ellie looked up, smiling. “Maybe,” she said. “And a new side of you, too.”
“Perhaps,” Dora agreed.
Progress was slow to start with. Dustsheets were removed, rooms swept, windows washed, furniture assessed. Louis worked on the kitchen stove and boiler while Mavis scrubbed shelves, table, pantry. Mr Tommy produced Bruno, a big, lumbering lad, who smiled shyly and said he liked to work. He immediately was put to stripping wallpaper beside Ellie and Yvette while Dora checked and wiped down furniture.
“I don’t like him,” Yvette complained. “He’s creepy. He stares at me.”
“He’s more like a small boy than a man, Yvette. Don’t worry.”
“He is big and strong for a small boy,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at where Bruno was working. “I would not want to be alone with him.”
Ellie studied the girl. Yvette must have had bad experiences in her life, she thought. She was fearful of men. Ellie herself found Bruno quite lovable. When you praised him, he’d give the most beaming smile, and it didn’t matter what you asked him to do—he’d nod his head and off he’d go, not stopping until it was done. He also had the endearing habit of humming or singing to himself as he worked, mostly hymns but sometimes popular songs, too, of which he clearly didn’t understand the words, since some were risqué. His speech was slow and ponderous, and sometimes he was a little hard to understand. When Ellie or Dora misunderstood and got it wrong, he would laugh and say he was supposed to be the stupid one.
