‘Thegarageis closed for today.’
She pronounced the word with a French accent but it needed no translation.
‘They can help with the tyres tomorrow morning,’ Tilly added. ‘I will talk to the man we paid to use this space and I’m sure he will look after the car until then, especially when I tell him I might have to go to the police about the vandalism and that I think I could identify the boys who might have done the mischief.’
Angus wanted escape rather than revenge. ‘Have we not got some kind of roadside assistance service we can call?’
Tilly’s gaze slid away from his. ‘I’m not sure if that’s included in the insurance policy of the car. And it’s Sunday. It might be hard to find out quickly.’
Angus closed his eyes as he let out a slow breath. Then he opened them again.
‘And the good news?’
‘My mother has a friend in Valensole – Monique.Shehas a friend who lives in a château not far from here, near Riez. I have just spoken to her.’
Angus was bewildered now. He gave his chin a quick rub. ‘What’s that got to do with any of this?’
‘We could stay there tonight. We’re not likely to find any hotel rooms with it being the lavender festival. The dancing goes on till midnight.’
‘We would be staying in achâteau?’
‘Not exactly. They have a small cottage on the estate and we can stay there. Monique will come and pick us up as soon as we’ve sorted the car and then she’s happy to collect us tomorrow morning and bring us back. Oh!Excusez-moi?—’
Tilly slipped past Angus, close enough for him to feel the brush of her body.
‘I can see the man I need to speak to. I’ll be two ticks.’
Had she used that English expression because he had, earlier today?
Had she known it before then?
Angus rather liked the idea that she might have learned something from him. And that she was choosing to keep it.
* * *
Monique had been at school with Tilly’s mother so their friendship had been a part of her life and she was used to the older woman’s constant flow of words and extravagant hand gestures. Hopefully Angus wasn’t seeing that the steering wheel was sometimes left without any human contact, because he’d insisted on sitting in the back seat of Monique’s rather old and dented Renault hatchback. He certainly wouldn’t be picking up on any of the rapid French being spoken but Tilly was translating snippets that she thought he might be interested in.
‘The man who owns the château is called Henri Girard. It has been in his family for generations. There are olive groves on the estate but he’s more known for his passion for falcons and the sanctuary he’s run for those that get injured. That’s why he used to rent out the cottage that Monique has been looking after for him – to raise money to look after the birds.’
She’d left out the juicier parts of Monique’s description of Monsieur Girard, who was, apparently, extremely charming and unable to resist beautiful women. Tilly had a suspicion that, in the past, Monique might have succumbed to that charm herself.
‘He doesn’t rent it out now?’
‘No, he’s not very well but he’s happy for us to use it if we make a donation. As Monique pointed out, it’s best for any house to be aired out occasionally.’
‘But perhaps we’re intruding if he’s not well? This town might have accommodation available.’
Tilly put the idea to Monique but shook her head after listening to the animated response.
‘Monique’s happy to have a reason to visit Henri. They’ve been friends for a very long time and he’s been sick for years with some kind of blood cancer. It’s getting worse now and his son has come from Ireland to care for him for the time he has left. We won’t be a bother to him at all and the housekeeper is able to provide us with dinner.’
Angus had probably noticed how often Monique had been sayingoh là làin their most recent exchange concerning her friend’s son, but she didn’t translate the glowing appreciation of how handsome this young man was. Monique thought he might be perfect for Tilly, who had to be very firm in that she didn’t want a meeting set up – she was quite capable of choosing her own man, thank you.
She was glad of the distraction of answering another question for Angus.
‘Why did his son go to Ireland?’
‘His mother’s Irish. His parents divorced when he was a young child and she took him to Ireland with her but he came back for every school holiday. Everybody’s hoping he will keep the château – and the sanctuary – going after Henri is gone. This area is famous for its falcons. And its history. Monique says there’s a baptistery that dates back to the fifth century and was part of one of the first Christian cathedrals in France.’
