Chateau Moi
This is my first story ever. There's clearly plenty of scope to continue it if it meets with any enthusiasm. It's a slow build and meant to be fairly realistic; or at least plausible.
I picked Amy up from Bergerac airport at 11am local time. She'd flown in from London, a short one hour flight, but she looked shattered and I knew why. Amy, a friend of my 23 year old daughter, Lizzy, was meant to be joining us with her boyfriend for a short holiday; but Lizzy had rung me the day before to warn me that Amy had just broken up with her boyfriend so was going to be coming alone. The good news was that meant I could come and pick her up in my Alfa Romeo spider (it only has two seats); the bad news was that Lizzy also said that she and her boyfriend, Toby, were going to be a day late in arriving. It was my job to handle the Amy pieces on my own for 24 hours.
"Lovely to see you again", I said and leant forward to give her a kiss on both cheeks. We had met a few times over the past few years but hardly knew each other. The closest we had come to any intimacy was a few flirty chats on her Facebook when she had holidayed with Lizzy in Asia for six weeks.
"Thank you for coming to pick me up, Mr. Bright"
"Jay, call me Jay. I couldn't bear a week of misters."
She managed to eke out a small smile.
I took her bag and we went out into the bright sunshine. It was perfect weather, about 26 degrees with a gentle breeze.
"Let me give you some advice in case you come this way again, or indeed to any small airport like this one. If you're hiring a car, don't hire it from the rental company associated with the airline."
"Why, do they rip you off?"
"No, its not that, it's a fairly transparent market so prices are kept reasonably honest. No, the reason is... look" And I pointed to the car rental area which we were passing on the way to the car park. There were four portacabins each with a different version of rent-a-car logos stuck on them. Out of one snaked a lengthy queue; the other three were empty.
"Guess which one is associated with the airline you just flew in on?"
"I'll remember that. For when I've passed my driving test and can afford to rent a car. Probably in about a hundred years' time." And the small smile, which the sun had prompted, disappeared from her face.
"Oh dear! We are in a bad way. Nothing that a week in the sun, staying at Chateau Moi, won't cure. Here we are." And I stopped next to my beautiful Alfa.
"Wow, is that yours, Jay?"
"Certainly is and I can't tell you how much pleasure it gives me. Jump in."
We were soon out on the open road, driving through this particularly beautiful part of France. It rains more here than on the Cote d'Azur, further east, so consequently everything is that much greener and healthier. I love the sun and warmth but if you're actually living somewhere rather than just on holiday its good to have some variation and rain is refreshing as long as it clears quickly.
"It's about forty minutes."
"Tell me about your chateau, Lizzy's never really explained it properly."
"I'm glad you asked because I couldn't have resisted telling you all about it anyway. I can be quite a bore when it comes to my little project."
And I gave her the full story - well not quite full story because I can talk for hours and hours about it.
I had always wanted to own a chateau from when I first went to France with my parents as a little boy. I used to spend hours on the internet looking at property for sale but although I am a bit of a dreamer I am at heart a practical and cautious man. My wife wasn't too keen on the idea - where I saw grandeur and fantasy and beauty, she saw mice and dirt and cost - and, frankly, when you have only a few weeks holiday a year it is pretty pointless owning another house in another country. I retired a couple of years ago from my job in the City, I had made a reasonable amount of money, I wasn't rich compared with many of my friends but we were comfortable enough for me to stop the 5.30am commute and concentrate on writing a book I had planned in my mind for years. A simple manual about managing money, aimed squarely at teenagers and young adults. It wasn't hard to find a publisher - they all said how they would buy a copy for their child/godchild/grandchild. And that's how it took off - it wasn't bought by the people it was aimed at, it was bought for them. I don't suppose a fraction of them were actually read but it made me a tidy sum and still does.
The downside of me being at home writing the book was it put a bit of a strain on the relationship with my wife: not used to having somebody around she felt cramped on spied on. The solution was simple - using the money from the book I would pursue my chateau dream while she stayed in England. I didn't intend to stay there in the winter but from March to October I would be out of her hair and she could come down and visit whenever, or if, she felt like it. She took a bit of persuading but as the money from the book flowed in she found it harder to object.
It was the best thing I could have done. She liked to be in the thick of things and I loved being cut off. We stopped getting on each other's nerves because we simply weren't there to do so.
You see, here I am wittering on and I haven't told you anything about the actual chateau. All those years of dreaming paid off though. I had a pretty clear idea of what I wanted (and what I didn't want) and what was available. It only took two months to find (plus forty years) and another month to settle the deal and I had precisely what I was looking for. Indeed it was better than I hoped. I didn't have to start from scratch as the man I bought from had already done a lot of the boring (and expensive) work on the roof and walls leaving me to do the fun bits.
The chateau had to look right - that was the most important criterion. This was after all a fantasy and what would be the point if it didn't look the part. But it also had to be manageable and it had to have another building for me to live in. It was not my plan to live in the chateau, or at least not fulltime. I wanted to rent the fantasy out - partly to defer some of the cost but also because I just wanted other people to enjoy my dream - and so I needed somewhere else to live on site but not in the way. Chateau moi - as I jokingly called it - filled all these factors perfectly.
There are two round towers at either end of the façade which has four big sash windows either side of the central door. There are two main floors, a raised ground floor, and the principal bedroom floor above. It's only one room and a corridor deep. Below is the basement which was perfect for my purposes; and above was one enormous attic room yet to be converted (and probably never will be). Remember this is not a hotel or B&B but a house for rent, so the kitchen which would have been hidden in the basement in its original layout is now on the ground floor with two sash windows looking onto the park. There's so much more to tell but we've just arrived.
I turned into the drive and pulled up outside the barn like building.
"Here we are"
"Oh, I thought it would be bigger and grander than this."
"It is, it's at the end of the drive, but for the moment this is where I live and where lunch is. Leave your things in the car and we'll take them up after lunch."
I have converted the barn very simply - it will be where I live when the Chateau is rented. Essentially the barn is split into two, with most of it one giant room and at one end there is a mezzanine, with a bedroom and bathroom on top and a kitchen down below. There is no wall: the kitchen opens out on to the main room and upstairs there is a curtain that can be drawn across the width of the barn but I never bother with it while I'm there on my own.
The barn feels a bit gloomy when you first enter but your eyes soon become accustomed and it is cool. Amy was noticeably taken aback when she entered. It's very modern inside with some cool furniture and art on the walls. The kitchen is sleek stainless steel and the contrast with the external, slightly tumbled own rustic appearance is stark. She shivered a bit with the cold.
"Wow! So cool"
"Literally"
She smiled. She was wearing a fetching top, tied in a knot beneath her boobs. And now I realise I've spent more time describing the buildings than the girl. She is very pretty but the difference between scowling and smiling sends her from a 7 to firm 10. She's not skinny but there's not an ounce of fat on her. She's an actress rather than an athlete. And a very fetching one.
"Do you like truffles?"
"I'm not sure I've ever tried any".
"Well they have a sort of musky, fungi aroma and are very much a specialty of the region. They make some lovely honey with truffles which I put in my dressing - it really adds a certain
je ne sais quoi
". I said the common French phrase with a bit of an accent, entirely subconsciously. She looked at me and melted just a fraction.
"Do speak French, Mr. Bright, I mean Jay?"
"Badly. I seem to be better at accents than grammar and vocabulary. It seems to make the locals laugh though. How about you?"
"It makes me laugh too!"
