Page 19 of The Ringmaster’s Daughter

‘It’s good, isn’t it?’ the eyebrow man said. ‘Even our cheap wine is good. Not a bad place to live, if you ask me. What’s your name?’

‘Michel.’

‘Well, Michel, I am Lucien, and this here under the table is my dog Coquette. And our waitress who has shown you so much hospitality is Madame Guillaume. Do not mind her; she is angry with her husband for drinking too much last night. He is still in bed.’

‘Nice to meet you.’

‘And you. Always good to see a new face, eh Coquette?’ The dog sat up and looked at Michel. Then, as her master waved his hand, she trotted over to meet the visitor.

‘She likes you,’ Lucien remarked, as Michel rubbed the old dog behind her ears.

‘I like animals.’

‘It shows. So, what brings you to our little village of Vodable?’

‘I’m not sure.’ Michel sat back in his chair and took a mouthful of wine whilst Coquette rested her head on his thigh. ‘I left Paris and I was thinking to visit Saint-Émilion, where my grand-mère lived, see if some friend of hers would perhaps give me a job for a while. But now I am not sure.’

‘What has made you unsure?’ Lucien raised his glass in a toast.

‘I don’t know,’ Michel said, feeling the warmth of the alcohol swirl around his brain, making him suddenly tired. He yawned.

‘Did you go off to fight when it all started? I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to get away from that life now. A soldier’s life is a sorrowful one – take it from me.’

‘No.’ Michel shook his head; tried to shake the tiredness away. ‘I couldn’t. I broke my leg a few years back. It healed badly. One leg is a bit shorter than the other now.’

‘Better for you. If you had gone, you’d be mincemeat by now anyway. Is it true the Boche are in Paris?’

‘They were arriving as I left.’

‘Not surprising. They’re a quick bunch, looking for the next bit of land. Not sure why they need so much. I tell you, just as I told my wife, they’d be better being a little more French, a little more relaxed. Drink some wine instead of beer, eat proper food. The wife says they eat nothing but pork. Now and again a bit of bread. You think that’s true?’

‘I’ve heard similar things.’

‘You like this wine?’

‘It’s very good, though I shouldn’t have bought it really.’

‘What is money for if not for wine?’

Michel laughed and nodded.

‘Where will you stay tonight?’ Lucien asked, draining his own glass.

‘I’m not sure.’

‘I tell you what. You come and stay with me, on my farm. I’ll let you sample my own wine – much better than this – and you can pay me with stories of your travels. My wife will not mind… Well, if we get her some flowers, she won’t mind so much, eh?’ Lucien winked.

‘Are you sure?’

‘I’ve been married for forty years. Imagine that. Forty years – just me and her. No children. We welcome a friendly face from time to time; it gives us a little entertainment. Not much here – as you can see.’ Lucien indicated the quiet square.

‘That’s very generous of you.’

‘He who is generous will themselves be blessed, for they share their food with the poor – so say the Proverbs. You know the Bible?’

‘My mother taught me, but I can’t say I’m devout.’

‘No matter to me! You see, so many people around here – take my gummy friend Armand from the square who you met earlier. Says he is Catholic, says he is part of the Church, but you see how he is? Unfeeling towards anyone not like him. Not very Christian, is it? I say I’ve seen more Christian people in my life, proper Christians, who have never once stepped inside a church!’