Page 35 of You Had Me at Chateau
Massive wooden beams criss-cross the high ceiling, adding a rustic charm, as do the cosy fireplaces dotted around. But then the furniture is so modern. Plush, comfortable seats in rich, warm colours, strategically placed, making the whole space look contemporary but still with super-inviting snuggly vibes. It looks like if you allowed yourself to sink into one of those armchairs that you would never get up again – both because you couldn’t, and because you wouldn’t want to.
The fact that it’s Christmastime gives the place an extra magical, festive air about it. Twinkling fairy lights are strung along the beams – although I don’t think they would look out of place all year round – and there are festive decorations everywhere. Everything is tasteful though, and natural, with green garlands and wreaths (ones that look like they’re madefrom real trees) and subtle ornaments. The tree itself is huge, like someone chopped down one of the big ones from outside and dragged it in, although I can’t begin to imagine how they managed to get it through the doors.
Over to the side, there’s a coffee bar that’s calling my name – I smell it before I see it – serving up hot drinks and fresh pastries. The smell of coffee and freshly baked croissants wafts through the air, wrapping itself around my body like a lasso, pulling me in, and I’m so tempted to grab something, even though I told the ladies I’d join them for breakfast. I don’t suppose there’s any reason why I couldn’t grab a pre-breakfast snack, right? I’m basically a hobbit when it comes to meals. Second breakfast is a thing in my world too. Plus, it’s not like I need to mention breakfast number one, when I turn up for breakfast number two, is it?
The coffee bar itself is like an art installation. It’s got this sleek, modern design with a dark wooden counter, with the most beautiful detail carved into it, contrasted beautifully by the shiny chrome fixtures of the coffee machines. Behind the counter, there’s a display case filled with an array of mouth-watering pastries – croissants, muffins, cookies, and some decadent-looking cakes that are probably, in theory, way too rich for this early in the morning, but I know in my heart that I could absolutely take one down right now.
The barista, a friendly looking guy with a green Santa hat, is busy making a cappuccino, the machine hissing and steaming, and it should be an unpleasant noise but really it only adds to the atmosphere.
Everything about this place makes me feel like I’ve walked into a dream. The combination of the elegant décor, the festive touches, the inviting warmth from the fireplaces, and the delicious smells wafting from the coffee bar – it’s all so perfectthat I have to remind myself it’s real. And to think, I didn’t want to come here. Now that I’m here, I’m not sure I want to leave.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the shop and head over to grab a toothbrush first. This place is like a mini department store, with everything you could possibly need – so, really, when you think about it, I don’t actually need to leave. I mean, other than me not being able to afford a place like this if I weren’t filling someone else’s spot, I feel like I could be quite happy here.
I want to check out the souvenirs – because I’m a sucker for a good snow globe – but I should crack on with what I came here for. There will be plenty of time for shopping, and picking up some last-minute Christmas gifts before I head home.
I head to the toiletries section, scanning the shelves for toothbrushes. Wow, they’ve got everything, from hair dye to haemorrhoid cream, and everything for the bits in between. They’ve even got a massive make-up counter, and signs up saying there’s an on-site salon and spa. Really, truly, what else could I need from anywhere else? If it turns out there’s a McDonald’s, around the other side of the mountain, and assuming my family could visit, I really can’t think of what more I could want.
Here we are. Toothbrushes. As I stretch my arm out to grab one, another hand lunges for the same item. I look up, and lo and behold, it’s none other than Caleb. Okay, wow, this place really does have everything.
‘What are you doing here?’ I blurt out, genuinely surprised, trying to keep my potential morning breath to myself.
‘We arranged it,’ he says with a casual shrug. ‘Remember? You told me to meet you here…’
My jaw practically hits the floor.
‘I was being sarcastic!’ I reply. ‘I didn’t actually think you’d show up, especially not at such short notice – you told me this place was impossible to book in to.’
Caleb just chuckles.
‘I made a few calls,’ he tells me, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. ‘I thought I was going to have to find your château, to meet up with you, but here you are.’
I just stare at him for a moment.
‘Looks like you forgot your toothbrush too,’ he says through an amused grin.
‘Um, yeah,’ I reply, really, truly not knowing what else to say.
Caleb takes the toothbrush from my hand.
‘Let me get that for you,’ he insists.
‘Erm, I can buy my own toothbrush, thanks,’ I reply, teetering on the edge of snapping but managing to keep a lid on it.
Does he think I’m that hard up, that I can’t afford a toothbrush? Because, technically, this will be my second toothbrush, yep, two toothbrushes, I’m doing well, thanks.
Caleb laughs, as though he can tell that I’m ranting at myself, inside my brain.
‘I know, but humour me,’ he says, already heading for the checkout.
Curiosity getting the better of me – one of the curses of being a writer – I follow him, wondering why I would need to humour him.
At the counter, the cashier practically lights up at the sight of Caleb approaching him.
‘Hello, Monsieur Carney!’ he exclaims, swiftly taking the toothbrushes from him, placing them in a bag. ‘Do you need some toothpaste too?’
Caleb glances at me, and I realise I actually do need toothpaste. What a fantastic adult I am.
‘Yes,’ I practically confess.
