Chapter 13
13
Sasha declined Ingrid’s offer of lunch when they got back to the chateau and instead, enjoyed the fresh baguette she’d bought in Huelgoat market filled with cheese, ham and salad. She ate it accompanied by a glass of rosé, sitting out on the terrace and watching the birds flitting to and fro in the garden. Mentally, she added bird table and bird bath to her ever-growing ‘wanted for the cottage’ list.
Sasha gave a happy sigh. The countryside was so quiet here. Not having to work nine to five was wonderful. She could just sit and live in the moment. Such a long time since she’d been able to do that. It couldn’t last forever, of course, but she was determined to enjoy it for as long as possible. Maybe even try to find a way of earning an income in a different way. The recurring question ‘ Why don’t you reactivate your Etsy shop ?’ flashed into her mind again.
Could she? Spend her days drawing and painting? Sell enough for it to become her main income? Work from home? Lots of people did these days. In theory, all you needed was an internet connection, which she now had, and something to sell of course. Deep in thought, Sasha sipped her rosé. She had her savings and there was still some of her mum’s money left over. If she was careful about how much she spent renovating the cottage, she could probably survive for a year on the money she had. But was she brave enough to risk it?
She finished her drink, put the glass and plate in the sink, and went upstairs to the small third bedroom where she’d placed several unopened boxes. Boxes that contained not only her paints and sketchbooks, but also the remains of her Etsy shop. Stock that could possibly kick-start her ‘side hustle’ into a thriving business.
Sasha looked around, trying to visualise this turned into her studio cum workshop. It was an adequate size for a single bedroom, but would it really be big enough for all the necessary paraphernalia that she knew would inevitably be needed for a successful Etsy business? Thoughtfully, she wandered into the empty second bedroom and then into the one she’d chosen to use for herself. Too big, she decided, but the empty one was a perfect size. Standing there, she could see her easel to the side of the window next to a drawing table, another table for her computer and printer and shelves to contain paper, paints, frames, envelopes and all the other artistic things that she would need. With the walls painted white and the large window, it would be a lovely, bright space to work in.
But giving up a decent-sized bedroom would mean that she would have a problem if she ever had a couple of guests. Sasha gave a mental shrug. Having guests was a long way away; the small bedroom would be fine for a single person, and she could always give up her bed and sleep in there if she needed to. Determinedly, she started to move boxes from the small room to the middle of the floor in the larger one. She was going to do this.
Sasha had just pulled the largest of the boxes along the landing to the space she already thought of as her studio when Ingrid phoned.
‘You okay? You sound breathless,’ Ingrid said when she answered.
‘I’m fine. Just been moving boxes.’
‘I made a couple of phone calls and I’ve found your puppies. It’s a local farmer’s dog on the other side of the village. Definitely not a puppy farm. Bruno, the farmer, is well regarded in the village. There are only two of the litter left. I can take you to see them this evening, if you’d like me to? I know Bruno and he doesn’t speak English, so I can interpret for you.’
‘Thank you so much.’
‘See you about five o’clock then.’
Sasha smiled to herself. Ingrid was turning into a real friend despite the difference in their ages. To think she’d been worried about the Chevaliers being stand-offish; nothing could be further from the truth, they were so friendly and helpful. She was looking forward to meeting Penny if and when she arrived, hoping that she too would turn out to be a new friend.
Hearing a car parking outside the cottages and knowing Freddie wasn’t around, she quickly ran downstairs to see who it was. As she opened the cottage door, Sasha was surprised to see Freddie stepping out of a silver-grey van, a happy smile on his face.
‘What d’you think?’ he said. ‘Traded in the old right-hand drive for this. It’s a Renault Diesel. Reckon it’ll be more useful to us than an ordinary car. It’s automatic, which you’ll soon get used to. Fancy a drive?’ And Freddie held the driver’s door open for her.
Sasha went to shake her head and say no but stopped herself. She knew that driving again was one of the things she had to do, had promised to do, and taking the first step was always going to be difficult. ‘Okay,’ she said hesitantly. ‘Just here on the estate, okay?’
Freddie stood watching as she slid into the driver’s seat and then he leant in and pointed out the things she needed to know. Finally, he said, ‘Tuck your left leg out of the way and just take it easy. Off you go.’
‘Aren’t you coming with me?’
Freddie shook his head. ‘No. You know how to drive, you’ve passed your test, just do it. Me sitting next to you would probably unsettle you. You’re not going on the road so…’ He shrugged, closed the door and walked into his cottage.
Sasha started the engine, put her foot lightly on the accelerator pedal, released the handbrake and moved off, gripping the steering wheel tightly. She drove slowly down towards the main gates where the drive was wide enough to allow her to simply go around without doing a three-point turn. When she got back to the cottages, she reversed and did the same again, a little quicker this time, and actually enjoyed the feeling of being back behind the wheel; the light steering and the automatic gearbox made things easy. However sitting on the left-hand seat did feel as if she were in the wrong place in the vehicle, but she guessed she’d get used to that in time. How she would feel out on the road though, she wasn’t sure. But she’d taken the first step.
A few moments later, Sasha had made a pot of tea, opened a packet of biscuits, and she and Freddie were sitting out on the terrace catching up with each other’s news. Freddie, as well as working with Peter on the estate, had taken on two gardens in the village. ‘It’s enough for now, I just need to keep some money coming in to help pay for paint and other stuff to renovate this place.’
‘I’m going to turn my second bedroom into a workroom and reopen my Etsy shop,’ Sasha said quietly. ‘See if I can earn enough working from home. I’ll have to do it on their main site rather than the UK one because of Brexit and import duties, and pray that I can attract some French and European customers.’
‘Good idea,’ Freddie said. ‘Your stuff always did well until Bradley came into your life.’
Sasha nodded ruefully. ‘Yep. Before I forget, Ingrid is taking me to look at a puppy this evening. Do you want to come?’
Freddie shook his head. ‘I plan to brave the bar in the village again tonight. Big football match on and they have a huge screen.’
‘You and your football. You don’t mind me getting a dog, do you?’
Freddie shook his head. ‘Why would I? You know how much I love dogs.’
‘With the cottages being so close, if I get one, it’ll probably treat both cottages as its own.’
‘Okay by me.’
‘I’d better go and meet Ingrid. I shouldn’t be long. I’ll get supper organised when I get back.’
‘I’ll get supper before I go out tonight,’ Freddie said. ‘So take your time.’
‘How did Peter react to Penny’s message?’ Sasha asked as Ingrid drove them out through the gates.
‘Like you. We have to wait and see what happens, but at least she’s coming home.’ Ingrid sighed. ‘I can’t help worrying though.’ She glanced across at Sasha. ‘Did I see you driving a van down the drive earlier?’
‘Yes. Freddie’s newly acquired transport. The first time in ages I’ve actually sat behind a wheel. And the first time I’ve ever driven an automatic. Not to mention sitting on the left.’
‘I like automatics, not having to worry about changing gear is wonderfully liberating,’ Ingrid said. ‘You’ll soon be bombing around all over the place.’
‘Hope so, I need to suss out some things for the cottage. Which reminds me, are there any second-hand furniture places around? Or even good charity shops?’
‘France doesn’t really get the idea of charity shops,’ Ingrid said. ‘But there are a couple around: the best one is an animal charity about forty minutes away in Poullaouen. There is a big second-hand outlet in Carhaix – you can furnish a house from top to bottom with stuff from there. Some of it’s old-fashioned, but good quality. I bought a couple of tables and Breton bedframes and wardrobes for the chateau from there. And then there is Emmaüs in Pontivy, about an hour and a half away.’
‘Great. I’ll check out the more local ones first,’ Sasha said. ‘I’ve decided to reopen my Etsy store, but I need some shelves, a desk and a table to turn one of the bedrooms into a workroom.’
‘What do you sell?’ Ingrid asked as she indicated to turn down a farm track.
‘Prints, stationery, birthday cards, paintings of whatever catches my eye or are commissioned – mainly horses, dogs or a countryside theme. Occasionally, I take a commission to do people portraits. I also used to design brochures, bookmarks, logos and things for a couple of businesses in the UK.’
‘I think Peter and I need to talk to you about a logo for the Chateau du Cheval when you’re ready. Right, let’s have a look at these pups,’ and Ingrid pulled to a stop outside the farmhouse.
Almost immediately, the front door opened.
‘ Bonjour, Bruno ,’ and Ingrid introduced Sasha. After the obligatory handshakes, Bruno said something in rapid French before indicating they should follow him. ‘The puppies are in the barn,’ Ingrid translated.
Bruno pushed open the door of a nearby outbuilding and as they walked in, they were greeted by a friendly long-haired sheepdog.
‘Meg, the mother,’ Ingrid said.
Bales of straw and hay were piled high, and sheep with lambs at heel were bleating gently in several pens. Sasha smiled, spying a duck sitting high up on a bale, and then she saw the pups, curled up sleeping together in one of the open pens.
Sasha dropped to her knees in front of them, as their mother appeared at her side. Tentatively, Sasha held out her hand for the bitch to sniff before gently stroking her head. The sleeping puppies soon awoke and moved inquisitively towards her; within minutes, they were clambering all over her.
‘Oh, aren’t they adorable. Can you ask him if they have names?’ she asked Ingrid. ‘How old are they? Have they been inoculated? And how much are they?’ She was gently tickling the tummy of one who had rolled onto her back. As she concentrated on playing with the puppies, she was dimly aware of Ingrid and Bruno talking quietly behind her. One of the dogs, who’d seemed a little more hesitant in the beginning than the other one, nudged her free hand and rolled onto her back for a tummy tickle too. Sasha smothered a sigh. They were both adorable. How on earth could she choose between them?
‘They’re female collies, but neither of the parents is registered as such. They are three months old, weaned, inoculated, but neither have names,’ Ingrid said behind her. ‘The other four in the litter have sold for seventy-five euros each – basically covering food costs, inoculations, but not chipping. These two bonded almost from the moment they were born, and he’d really like them to stay together. He’s willing to let you have them both for one hundred and twenty euros.’
‘Tell him yes. I was struggling to decide which one to have, but now I don’t have to,’ Sasha said happily. ‘Freddie and I can have one each.’
‘Are you sure?’ Ingrid said, taken aback by her instant decision.
‘Yes. Freddie will be thrilled. Can I pay for them now but pick them up tomorrow? I need to buy a few things! Get organised. Oh, can you ask him which brand of dog food they are used to, please?’
With Ingrid’s help, the formalities were completed and Sasha gave the puppies one last cuddle. ‘See you both tomorrow.’
‘I’ve got a small cage at home that I’ll put in the car for them tomorrow,’ Ingrid said as she drove back up the farm lane. ‘We got it for vet visits for the cats we no longer have, but it’s big enough for the pups for such a short distance.’ Ingrid laughed. ‘You are going to have your hands full with those two.’
‘I know, but aren’t they adorable? Freddie and I will manage between us.’
‘Do you need anything from the village shop as we go through?’ Ingrid asked. ‘I need to pick something up for supper.’
‘I’ll come in with you and check out their pet supplies,’ Sasha said.
Once Ingrid had parked outside the village shop, they both went in and Sasha made a beeline for the pet corner, which was surprisingly well stocked. She picked up a bag of the dog food Bruno had said he was using, a couple of plastic feeding bowls, water bowls, collars and leads. The pet beds were all cat-size, so not big enough for two puppies to share, but she had plenty of blankets and towels at home to make them comfy. With no one else in the shop, they paid for their purchases and were soon turning onto the chateau driveway.
Ingrid had parked the Land Rover in its usual place when she sighed unexpectedly and turned to look at Sasha. ‘I know I’m probably being irrational, but our first guests are due soon and I’m getting more and more nervous about the whole thing of having paying guests. What do I know about running a place like this?’ She gestured towards the chateau. ‘The answer is, I know nothing. Nothing. I know if I try to talk to Peter about this, he won’t really understand. What if they don’t like it when they get here? What if my standards aren’t high enough for them? What if they are expecting… oh I don’t know, something more upmarket?’
Shocked, Sasha looked at her. ‘I can’t believe you’re seriously doubting yourself and the beautiful place you’ve created here.’
‘It’s so important that I— we, make this place work,’ Ingrid said. ‘I know Peter would hate it if it failed and we had to sell up. Not yet knowing what is happening with Penny is stressing me out too.’
Sasha took a deep breath. ‘I guess worrying about Penny isn’t helping, and starting any new job or venture is bound to be stressful. But honestly, I don’t think you should waste your time fretting about how people are going to react to the chateau. You’ve made it beautiful inside. And you might not realise it, but you do know something about hotels and guest houses. In the past, how many have you stayed in? Lots, I’m sure. I bet you remember the ones where you were made to feel genuinely welcome and looked after, over and above all the others?’
Ingrid nodded. ‘That’s true.’
‘Well, that’s how you treat your guests – make them feel you personally care about their stay in this beautiful place, without being too obsequious of course. Some people will always come with an attitude. You and Peter are naturally hospitable and friendly. I’m sure neither of you wanted to sell the Cottages du Lac, but you’ve made us both feel so welcome and helped in many ways, without showing any resentment you could have felt towards having strangers living on your private estate.’
‘Thank you,’ Ingrid said, releasing her seat belt. ‘I feel better for having talked to you and you’re right, of course. I shall become known for the magnificent breakfasts I serve. I might be a novice in the hospitality business, but I do know how I like to be treated, and I will make sure my guests are made to feel good during their stay – unless they are absolute horrors of course, in which case I shall politely tell them to leave the chateau.’
Ingrid, giving a small laugh at that thought, turned to get out, and Sasha watched in horror as she caught her foot in the dangling seat belt and fell out of the Land Rover, landing in a heap on the ground.