Chapter 23 #2
“I will be sorry to see you go. It was good to have a woman here my age. And you bring excitement to my life. Better than a reality show and gossip magazine put together.”
Lali offered to help spruce things up before Ruth came, but when they got there, Guillaume and Ruth had already arrived, Ruth was regaling Luc with tales of her travels, and there was a weird tension between the two men that only Marlow seemed to notice.
Ruth kissed Marlow on both cheeks. “Show me the house!”
Marlow smiled, but her mouth went dry. What she really had to do was tell Ruth about the back taxes.
It was 12:30. Sabine ran most of the way to the passport office, Aubin running after her, the two of them laughing as they weaved through tourists and locals alike, Sabine feeling like she was the latter, a tourist no more.
They headed up the elevator to the waiting room.
Yves was not there yet, but that was typical.
He was a just-in-time or a little-late guy, but he’d be there.
One o’clock came and went. Then a half-hour passed, then another, then the passport office closed—its short day of the week. It wasn’t until they were back out at street level that she got a voice text from her father.
Sabine, I wanted to be there today. I went to my meetings and my biggest film is greenlit.
The producers need me in London, so I ran for the Chunnel to catch the next train, and one was leaving in two minutes, so I was going to call from the train, but the internet was down.
Now I’m in London. I know we can’t get your paperwork done unless I’m there.
I hope to be back soon, but don’t know how long I will be. Will call asap. I’m really sorry.
Sabine had a stabbing feeling between her lungs. She thought about all the disappointment Yves had brought her mother. And her, too, if she was being honest. But this was the worst yet.
They finished the tour of Maison Perdue for Ruth. “You have done a splendid job,” she said.
“It was a group effort,” said Marlow, gesturing to Lali, Guillaume, and Luc.
Ruth rifled in her purse for a pen. “Guillaume’s lawyer drew up the paperwork, and I want to pay you five thousand dollars for all the work you’ve done. Does that sound fair?”
“You really don’t have to,” said Marlow, “because—”
“I want to.” Ruth waved the pen around. “Shall we?”
Marlow’s stomach did a flip. “There’s something I should tell you first.”
“What? Snakes in the basement? That’s a sous-sol, by the way. My French is improving.”
“Worse. The local civil servant told me a few days ago that there are back taxes owing.”
“Oh, goodness. How much?”
“Twenty-thousand euros,” choked out Marlow. “You can’t get a house for twenty thousand back in North America, and of course you wouldn’t have to pay me what you just offered, but—but I’m so sorry.” Marlow passed over Rémy’s bill.
“Let me read this and think about it.”
“May I translate?” asked Guillaume.
“Let me start with my English-French dictionary. It’s good for me to practice, but I also need to think a moment by myself. I’ll take a walk.” Ruth left with the paperwork.
“I’m such an idiot,” said Marlow.
“Rémy should have told you,” said Lali.
“Agreed. It’s better to know right away when something is happening,” said Guillaume, glancing at Luc with import.
“I agree as well,” said Luc, locking eyes with Guillaume. “But once you know, if there is nothing you can do about it, then you need to step back and see how it plays out.”
“We are still talking about back taxes, yes?” Lali asked, picking up on the tension.
“A person doesn’t have to wait,” Luc said to Guillaume. “If he knows he’s right for the job, he should stand strong.”
“Shall we put on some coffee?” Marlow asked, feeling the temperature rise in the kitchen. “Luc, do you have any coffee at your house? I think I’ve run out.”
“I have no coffee,” said Luc.
“You see?” said Guillaume. “You have no coffee. You are ill-equipped for the job!”
“Batard,” muttered Luc.
“Uh-oh,” said Lali.
“Guillaume,” Marlow said, knowing she had to separate the men. “Can you go to the boulangerie for coffee?”
“Absolument pas,” yelled Guillaume. “I will stay where I am wanted!”
“She does not need you here!” Luc yelled back. “You should leave!”
The men grabbed each other’s shirts, shoving each other up against one wall, then the other, yelling obscenities. Lali and Marlow tried to get them to stop, to no avail. They stumbled, all arms and legs, into the living room. The women watched them go.
“Everything is falling apart,” said Marlow.
“You don’t know that,” said Lali.
But then Ruth stepped back inside, oblivious to what was going on just one room beyond. “Marlow, I can’t buy the house. It’s not that I can’t afford the taxes, it’s more like this is a sign. I hope I’m not disappointing you too much. Where’s Guillaume?”
“He’s just—working something out with Luc,” said Lali, stepping into the living room doorway so Ruth wouldn’t see the men entangled in the next room.
“He said he’d meet you at the parking lot,” said Marlow.
“All right. Sorry this didn’t work out. à la prochaine!”
Ruth left. There was the sound of more scuffling and French swearing from the other room.
“Like I said,” said Marlow. “All falling apart.”