nights.â
âYes, of course Monsieur Pichon, Bonsoir ⦠I was just surprised to see you inside the house. I didnât hear the doorbell ring.â
âIt didnât. Zee door was unlocked, so I came in.â
âRight ⦠I see ⦠Well, thatâs fine,â I said, a little rattled. âPlease, let me show you to your room. Are your wife and daughter here?â
âYes Iâll just fetch zem now,â he replied, running downstairs to his car, where his family sat waiting patiently.
âOh, here you are,â I said as he entered, wife and daughter in tow. â Bonsoir Madame, Mademoiselle. Bienvenue à Treignac . (Welcome to Treignac ).â
â Bonsoir Madame ,â the bedraggled, little woman replied, no sign of delight on her deeply tanned face. Her child was solemn and grey, her dark eyes fatigued and circled.
âPlease follow me,â I indicated to the morbidly dull threesome, as I mounted the stairs to the upper level suites.
Everything seemed to go well enough. They appeared satisfied with their accommodation, though their mundane expressions were difficult to interpret. I hence, explained the breakfast arrangements, handed them their keys, and bid them a warm goodnight, hoping their mood would lift after a good nightâs slumber.
âIt was the Pichon family ⦠theyâre an odd lot,â I said to Jean on my return.
âHere, Chérie , have a glass of wine. Everyoneâs here now, you can relax,â he said, as he cuddled up to me on the leather sofa.
âPhew! Thank heavens for that,â I replied, kissing him tenderly.
It had been a difficult summer for me so far. My physical being was still learning to cope with the daily routine of rising early and retiring late. It took all the strength I could muster, some days, just to make the beds. I had even resulted to crawling on hands and knees to finish my chores some days. Jean was a treasure, helping me as much as he could, though his working hours often didnât teeup with mine. Life wasnât perfect quite yet, but it was improving day by day. That was, until this evening.
Moments later, having finally settled in for the evening movie, a rattling at the dining room door, again interrupted us.
âWho could that be this time?â I grumbled, as I shuffled to the door.
To my surprise, it was the swarthy Monsieur Pichon , his wooden expression peering at me through the glass panes.
âYes, Monsieur Pichon . How can I help you this time?â
âIâve come to watch zee football on zee television,â he replied directly.
âIâm sorry. What exactly do you mean?â I replied bewildered.
âZee television. I have come to watch zee television. Zere is zee big match tonight. It is allowed, non ?â
âNo ⦠not really. Iâm afraid this is our private lounge room, Monsieur Pichon .â
âSo you are not going to allow me into your lounge room?â he asked, a threatening edge in his tone.
âIâm sorry Monsieur Pichon , if you have misunderstood the arrangements here, but as a Bed and Breakfast, we are welcoming you into our home, yes thatâs true. However we do have rooms that are for our personal use only. At night, we require a little privacy after a long day. Iâm sure you understand,â I explained gently, with a smile.
With that, Monsieur Pichon thrust a copy of the â Gîtes de France -Bed and Breakfast guide to Franceâ under my nose. He had hidden it behind his back, prior to this, in stealthy anticipation. He cleared his throat then proceeded to quote a phrase from the back cover.
âI quote, You will be welcomed into a family home, where you will be received as one of the family⦠etcetera, etcetera and so forth,â he read. When finished, he looked me straight in the eye and questioned, âSo, you will not receive me like one of your family?â
â Monsieur
âYes, of course Monsieur Pichon, Bonsoir ⦠I was just surprised to see you inside the house. I didnât hear the doorbell ring.â
âIt didnât. Zee door was unlocked, so I came in.â
âRight ⦠I see ⦠Well, thatâs fine,â I said, a little rattled. âPlease, let me show you to your room. Are your wife and daughter here?â
âYes Iâll just fetch zem now,â he replied, running downstairs to his car, where his family sat waiting patiently.
âOh, here you are,â I said as he entered, wife and daughter in tow. â Bonsoir Madame, Mademoiselle. Bienvenue à Treignac . (Welcome to Treignac ).â
â Bonsoir Madame ,â the bedraggled, little woman replied, no sign of delight on her deeply tanned face. Her child was solemn and grey, her dark eyes fatigued and circled.
âPlease follow me,â I indicated to the morbidly dull threesome, as I mounted the stairs to the upper level suites.
Everything seemed to go well enough. They appeared satisfied with their accommodation, though their mundane expressions were difficult to interpret. I hence, explained the breakfast arrangements, handed them their keys, and bid them a warm goodnight, hoping their mood would lift after a good nightâs slumber.
âIt was the Pichon family ⦠theyâre an odd lot,â I said to Jean on my return.
âHere, Chérie , have a glass of wine. Everyoneâs here now, you can relax,â he said, as he cuddled up to me on the leather sofa.
âPhew! Thank heavens for that,â I replied, kissing him tenderly.
It had been a difficult summer for me so far. My physical being was still learning to cope with the daily routine of rising early and retiring late. It took all the strength I could muster, some days, just to make the beds. I had even resulted to crawling on hands and knees to finish my chores some days. Jean was a treasure, helping me as much as he could, though his working hours often didnât teeup with mine. Life wasnât perfect quite yet, but it was improving day by day. That was, until this evening.
Moments later, having finally settled in for the evening movie, a rattling at the dining room door, again interrupted us.
âWho could that be this time?â I grumbled, as I shuffled to the door.
To my surprise, it was the swarthy Monsieur Pichon , his wooden expression peering at me through the glass panes.
âYes, Monsieur Pichon . How can I help you this time?â
âIâve come to watch zee football on zee television,â he replied directly.
âIâm sorry. What exactly do you mean?â I replied bewildered.
âZee television. I have come to watch zee television. Zere is zee big match tonight. It is allowed, non ?â
âNo ⦠not really. Iâm afraid this is our private lounge room, Monsieur Pichon .â
âSo you are not going to allow me into your lounge room?â he asked, a threatening edge in his tone.
âIâm sorry Monsieur Pichon , if you have misunderstood the arrangements here, but as a Bed and Breakfast, we are welcoming you into our home, yes thatâs true. However we do have rooms that are for our personal use only. At night, we require a little privacy after a long day. Iâm sure you understand,â I explained gently, with a smile.
With that, Monsieur Pichon thrust a copy of the â Gîtes de France -Bed and Breakfast guide to Franceâ under my nose. He had hidden it behind his back, prior to this, in stealthy anticipation. He cleared his throat then proceeded to quote a phrase from the back cover.
âI quote, You will be welcomed into a family home, where you will be received as one of the family⦠etcetera, etcetera and so forth,â he read. When finished, he looked me straight in the eye and questioned, âSo, you will not receive me like one of your family?â
â Monsieur
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