Chapter 9
9
The next few days passed in a whirl for Sasha as she finished her unpacking and settled into No. 1. She and Freddie had breakfast together before he walked up to the chateau to begin working for Peter. He’d also started to put out feelers in the village for some more work. One evening the two of them, Sasha armed with her tablet, had gone through the two cottages room by room, making notes and deciding what needed doing first. Freddie was upbeat and happy.
‘Basically, the cottages are sound, with good roofs. They haven’t stood empty for years and years like some do. Bathrooms and kitchens need updating, but we knew that when we viewed. Windows could probably do with double-glazed units, but we can leave that for a few months.’
Sitting on their mum’s Chesterfield, they’d sketched out the plans for the two bathrooms, each slightly different, which Freddie was going to plumb in and then they’d help each other decorate. Freddie had also driven them into the nearby town twice. The first time, they’d explored Carhaix with its Roman remains a little before doing a large supermarket shop. The second time, they’d braved the builders’ merchants, buying paint and the other DIY things they needed as well as choosing and ordering baths, shower units, sinks and toilets, all to be delivered in a couple of weeks when everything was in stock.
Today, Freddie had gone into the village to meet someone who had seen his notice in the village tabac offering gardening services. Sasha, itching to start turning the cottage into her own, had scraped the wallpaper off in the sitting room, rubbed the walls down and was now painting them, having pushed the settee into the centre of the room and thrown an old sheet over it. She’d chosen a pale cream paint and the three walls she’d painted so far were looking good. The last one, with its large window overlooking the garden and the route de galop , was next. The sky was blue, the sun was shining and Sasha hummed happily as she brushed the paint on. It was hard to believe she’d been living in the cottage for little more than a week, she felt so at home. Of course, she knew it was early days and life here wouldn’t always be plain sailing, but it was a long time since she’d felt as happy as she currently did. Freddie, too, seemed a lot more relaxed, especially now he was earning some money.
Painting slowly around the window frame, a movement outside caught her eye. Sasha hesitated before carefully putting her brush down, going through to the kitchen and stepping out into the garden. Ten or fifteen sheep were nonchalantly ambling along the lane, enjoying the shoots of spring grass in the verges and down the centre of the route.
Sasha looked up and down the lane. There didn’t appear to be anyone with them. She grabbed her phone out of her pocket and rang Ingrid.
‘Hi, there are sheep wandering down the back lane. Are they allowed to do that?’
Sasha smiled as she heard a muffled swear word. Obviously not.
‘Are they headed towards the village?’ Ingrid asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Typical, when both Peter and Jean-Paul are out for most of the day.’
‘Freddie’s out somewhere too,’ Sasha said.
‘Okay, I’ll block the lane with the Land Rover to stop them getting onto the main road,’ Ingrid said. ‘And then I’ll try to encourage them down towards you. Could you walk down the other way and see if you can spot where they got out? If you stop a few feet the other side of the gap, we can try to persuade them to go back through it. Just remember – no quick movements or they’ll panic and run in all directions.’
Sasha made sure the garden gate was closed firmly behind her as she stepped onto the route de galop . The sheep seemed to have edged a little farther up the lane and were grazing happily. Slowly, Sasha walked away from them, hoping that Ingrid would have blocked the lane at the road junction, whilst she searched for a break in the hedge. Eventually, she found a well-trodden muddy gap in the bank where the flock had clearly pushed through. She stopped a couple of metres farther on in front of the gate at the end of the lane and turned to wait for Ingrid.
It was a few minutes later before she saw and heard the sheep being urged in her direction by Ingrid. As the herd got closer, Sasha stepped back towards the gate to give them more space to approach. Ingrid was close behind them now and as the leader of the flock hesitated by the gap, she held out her arms in a sideways gesture and patiently waited for the first sheep to decide to step up the bank and into the field. Sasha held her breath as they both watched, and she heard Ingrid’s sigh of relief as one by one the sheep followed the leader back into the field.
‘Thank goodness for that,’ Ingrid said. ‘That was easier than I expected. Sheep can be notoriously stupid.’ She pulled a round orange ball of baler twine out of her pocket. ‘The hole isn’t too big. Hopefully I can block it with enough twine and small branches to keep them in until Jean-Paul can fix it later today.’
And she set to work, tying the twine around the trunk of a small oak tree on one side and stretching it across the gap and wrapping it around the thin trunk of a hazelnut tree on the other. Sasha helped her criss-cross the twine several times before they collected some broken small branches to thread through the twine and pile some close to it as another deterrent.
‘Not perfect,’ Ingrid said, ‘but it’s the best we can do. I’ll ring Jean-Paul and tell him. He and Peter have gone to a farm auction today near Gourin.’
Together they started to walk back up the lane.
‘Good job you saw the sheep when you did,’ Ingrid said. ‘It would have been mayhem if they’d reached the road.’
Sasha shrugged. ‘It was pure luck. Do they get out often?’
‘No. The hedges and fences are all generally in good condition, but you can always trust sheep to find the most vulnerable spots – and then point them out to you by escaping.’
Sasha laughed. ‘So kind of them to do that. Can I offer you a coffee today?’ she asked, standing by the garden gate of the cottage.
Ingrid shook her head. ‘I’d love to, but I need to move the Land Rover and then I have to phone Penny.’
‘How is she now?’
‘Quiet. Hasn’t told me her plans yet, so I’m continuing to apply gentle pressure. Thanks again. By the way, the book club is tomorrow evening. Seven thirty. Have you decided about coming?’
‘Yes, I’d like to. Do I need to bring anything?’
‘No. See you tomorrow then,’ and Ingrid carried on walking up the lane.
Sasha made herself a cup of tea and stood outside drinking it as she took the first proper look at her garden. A wooden fence enclosed both cottage gardens, with a lower one down the middle dividing the two. There were well-established bushes of hydrangea plants, which Sasha knew were regarded as the emblematic flower of Brittany, forming a hedge inside the fence along the bottom of the garden bordering the lane. Clumps of daffodils, competing with the weeds in flowerbeds edged with pointed terracotta tiles, were waving their heads in the wind, and tulips with their fat leaves were pushing their way through. A large vegetable plot with several dead brassica plants was on the right-hand side near the dividing fence, a wooden shed close by.
Sasha walked a couple of paces into the garden and turned to look at the back of the cottage. The small terrace that ran the width of the building had a few neglected weed-filled pots. A large half barrel under the kitchen window had been dug over recently and Sasha saw Freddie had planted the rose cuttings from their mum’s garden in there. In summer when the window was open, their perfume would fill the kitchen wonderfully.
Thoughtfully, she looked at the terrace. A table and chairs for al fresco dining here in summer needed to be added to her list. Sasha drained her tea. So much to do both inside and outside, she’d better get back and finish painting the sitting room.