It looked like her mum was having a midlife crisis. Which made no sense because Sabine was the one having the crisis. She sat down and read the email, too. Her French was better because it was recent.
“So yeah … Looks like you bought a house in France for a euro.”
“No, no! Iread an articleabout buying a house in France for a euro. That’s different.”
“And then you got your wallet and credit card, and, you know, ‘did a thing.’ ”
“I DID NOT BUY A HOUSE IN FRANCE.”
“It says you did. I’ll translate: ‘Dear Madame Linden, this is to confirm your purchase of a house in the village of Mirabelle-Les-Roches. We will forward paperwork within a week to ten days. Please read the details carefully, as there are many rules and regulations. Be advised that our offices are on summer hours, and processing may be slower than usual—’ ”
“Jesus.”
“Don’t think he had anything to do with it, Mum. You did this all on your own.”
“I need a shower. Read the email again. Make sure you get all the fine print. Then get us out of it.”
“Awww.We can’t keep our house in France?”
“Do as you’re told, impertinent child!”
Which Sabine did. Then her mother emerged from a very short shower. “Hit me.”
“No online refunds.”
“Well, fine. I’m OK with my one-euro drunk-dial.”
“There’s more.”
“More what?”
“Fine print. It says that the commune—”
“Commune?”
“It’s some level of government, and it’s taken a security deposit from your credit card.”
“What? I didn’t say yes to that!”
“You don’t even remember buying the house, so who knows what you said yes to.”
“How much is the deposit?”
“Thirty-thousand euros.”
“WHAT!”
“To hold people accountable.”
“I’m accountable! I’m so accountable!” said Marlow. “I’m the most accountable person I know!”
“You get it back when you claim the house and sign the deed, which you must do within two months.”
“Thirty thousand euros? I don’t even think my credit card limit’s that high.”
“Looks like it is. You didn’t get a notification from them, did you?”
“I don’t even want a house in France!”
