Page 66 of Sisters Making Mischief
‘Liar, liar,pantalon en feu!’
I laughed. ‘We just had a chat about what mattered to us, how it was easy just to hang on to things that we didn’t need.’
‘And did you find out anything about him? His past?’
‘A few things, but I am loath to tell you because then the whole town will know.’
‘You are mean!’
We went back into the kitchen and the dogs flopped into their bed under the kitchen table, not interested in me any longer.
Luc and his past. What had I learned.
He’d known heartbreak, and loneliness, just as I had. He’d decided to do something about it, and I knew how much courage that took. I too was starting to hope that life had more to offer me than patiently waiting for something to happen. I was beginning to think about my life in a different way: I wasn’t going to be satisfied with being at the edge of other people’s lives, I wanted to be at the centre of my own.
‘Let’s just say that he is a really nice man, who perhaps, like me, has had a few setbacks, but is realising that there is still life out there to be lived.’
Isabel clasped her hands under her chin in delight. ‘I knew it! I knew you two would hit it off. I’m never wrong.’
‘Isabel, we didn’t hit anything off. We just moved your seedlings and had lunch. And you have been wrong many times. You thought David Cassidy waved to you in the audience when we went to that concert, and that he was going to ask you backstage and then he would fall in love with you, and you would get married. Now then, show me this shepherd’s hut.’
‘So, you’re really not going to give me all the juicy details?’
‘There aren’t any, and if there were I wouldn’t tell you because you would tell Felix and then Eugénie and then everyone within a fifty-mile radius would know.’
‘How very dare you! I wouldn’t. And anyway, I’m your sister, it doesn’t count if you told me. Do you know, Charles came to collect Eugénie in his car just after you left. He said he wanted to take her to Venice for her birthday, but I wasn’t to tell anyone. Can you imagine that pair walking around Venice and getting lost?’
‘I think you’ve just proved my point,’ I said, grinning.
Over the next couple of days while Pierre repaired the greenhouse, Isabel and I fussed about in thebrocantebarn, restocking as things were sold, and Felix reported that the damaged window in the bookshop had been replaced.
And so, with all these problems sorted out, we turned our attention to the shepherd’s hut. It had been connected up to the water and the drainage, and we wanted to make it look gorgeous. Isabel would just have put clean sheets and towels in there with perhaps a few decorative items. I had other ideas.
Fired up with the success of the newly renovatedgîtes,I suggested that we theme the hut on flowers, pastel colours to match the pale green exterior and some of the beautifulporcelain crockery she had collected in thebrocante. Even the tea towels I picked out were vintage in pale shades of blue and pink.
‘It’s not very masculine,’ she said at one point, ‘it looks like a she-shed. The sort of place where a writer would come to finish off their sweeping romance novel.’
‘Then advertise it like that,’ I said, ‘writers are always looking for somewhere peaceful and gorgeous to write. And when they aren’t doing that, they are taking pictures to put on Instagram. You must have seen them? #ruralpeace #inspiration. I read an article about a woman who writes medical romances, very successfully. She said she was inspired by always starting off her books in a treehouse in the Lake District.’
‘What’s that got to do with doctors and nurses?’
‘Nothing, but it was the location that she mentioned. And after that, apparently they were inundated with bookings because of her. Perhaps you should put something up on social media, to let people know what you have to offer?’
‘Well, okay,’ Isabel said doubtfully, watching me arrange a lace-edged cloth into a wicker bread basket. ‘I guess you could be right. I’ve done a bit of Facebook advertising before, but I’m not sure it made much difference.’
‘Instagram? TikTok? That sort of thing?’
‘No, not really, it never crosses my mind. Perhaps we could give it a go? Your idea about putting vintage things in thegîtesseems to be working. Cathy fromgîtenumber one has already said she would like to buy the cups and saucers to take home. I don’t know what to charge her.’
‘That’s great. And let’s get those twogîtessome proper names too.’
‘Why? I’ve always called then number one and number two – ah, I see what you mean. What do you suggest?’
‘Something French and romantic.Clair de Lune, perhaps andLa Vie en Rose.’
‘Oooh, that sounds nice, and I could replace the teacups she wants to buy with those pink lustre ware ones, to carry on the theme. And there are some sheets embroidered at the top with pink thread. I don’t think they’ve ever been used. I could put those in there.’
‘Excellent ideas,’ I said, ‘And we could get one of your boys to paint some cute nameplates for the doors.’
