To Provence, with Love. T Williams A
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the house. I dare say he barks at you too.’
Faye glanced down at Marlon who, after a bit of reciprocal sniffing with the Beast, had returned to take up position at her feet. His stick was now in the jaws of the Beast, and Faye didn’t blame him for surrendering it in the face of such a daunting adversary. For some reason Marlon appeared to have accepted her straightaway as a member of the household, if not a substitute pack leader, and it felt rather good. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was past six, so she knew she had better get back home in time to shower and change before dinner. ‘Tell me, is there a way back to the chateau without having to go back the way we came along the road?’
Obelix nodded and indicated a narrow footpath snaking off between two dilapidated stone walls. ‘Just follow that path up the hill until just before the lavender fields. You’ll smell them long before you see them and when you do, you’ll find there’s another path off to the left, just above the farm, that’ll take you home. Marlon knows it well enough. He’ll show you the way.’
‘Thank you … Obelix. Are you sure it’s all right to call you that?’
He grinned at her. ‘Everybody else does. My mum’s just about the only person who still calls me Albert.’
Faye smiled back at him. ‘By the way, the lavender farm – is that the farm I’ve just come past on the way down here?’
Obelix nodded. ‘That’s right.’
‘And there’s another black Labrador there, just like Marlon?’
‘That’s right. They’re from the same litter. He used to be Robbie’s dog.’
‘Robbie?’
‘He used to run the farm, but now it’s his brother who’s taken over.’ Obelix’s expression became more serious. ‘After Robbie was killed in the accident.’
‘Oh, how awful. Was that a farm accident? They say farms are dangerous places, with all the heavy equipment and so on.’
‘No, it was a road accident, up by the gorge. Very sad.’
Faye nodded in agreement before deciding she really had to get back. ‘Well, Obelix, I’d better get off. I’m sure I’ll see you again.’ Faye clicked her tongue and was gratified to see Marlon jump to his feet immediately. With a wave to the giant, she set off up the hill to home.
When she reached the lavender farm, she was greeted by the sweet smell of the flowers and a repetitive series of thuds coming from a corner of a nearby field where a man was hammering in a new fence post. Faye recognized him immediately as the same man she had met before. Clearly, he had now decided to venture out of the shade of the barn.
The temperature was still high and it looked like hard work. He was sweating profusely, his T-shirt sticking to his broad shoulders, his hair plastered down on his head. Even so, he looked like a movie star: handsome and hunky at the same time. Not that that mattered to Faye; as far as she was concerned, still raw after her treatment at the hands of Didier, he could have been James Dean and she still wouldn’t have been interested. Nevertheless, she did her best to be friendly, not least as it looked as though they were now going to be neighbours.
‘Good afternoon. That looks like hot work.’
Hearing her voice, the man stopped work and set the heavy hammer down at his side. As he did so, a black shadow emerged from beneath a nearby rosemary bush as his dog recognized his brother once again. Marlon trotted across to greet the two of them with his tail held high, wagging encouragingly.
‘Hello?’ The man raised a hand to his forehead and squinted and, as he did so, Faye realized she had the setting sun right behind her. She was quick to explain.
‘Hello, I’m the clueless girl who got lost a month or two ago. I don’t know if you remember.’
Comprehension dawned on his face. ‘Oh, yes. And you’re with Marlon?’
‘Yes. I’m staying at the chateau.’
‘Right.’
Although he didn’t sound unfriendly, he was certainly no more communicative now than when she had first seen him. Nevertheless, Faye tried again. ‘New fence post?’
‘Yes.’
‘Must be hard work.’
‘Yes.’
‘And very hot work on a day like this.’
‘Yes.’
Faye’s conversational skills were being severely stretched by now and she took refuge in a glance at her watch and what was, after all, the truth. ‘I’m afraid I can’t stop and talk. I have to get back.’
‘Right.’ With a smooth movement, he reached down, clasped the handle of the sledgehammer, and swung it up in a graceful arc above his head. ‘Well, goodbye then.’
Faye called to Marlon and left the taciturn man to his labours. She carried on along the rough path up the hill to the chateau. A minute or two later, she felt a stone under her heel and stopped to remove it. Grabbing hold of a branch at the side of the track to steady herself, she slid off the sandal and flicked away the tiny piece of gravel. As she did so, Marlon pounced on her shoe and bore it proudly away.
‘Marlon, bring that back.’
He stopped and turned back towards her, but showed no sign of any intention of relinquishing his trophy. She called him again, dangled his lead, and even tried to whistle, but he was having none of it. He trotted obligingly enough back to her, even let her grab the shoe in his mouth, but then stubbornly hung on to it like a limpet. Finally, Faye had to leave it with him, rather than risk damaging either the sandal or the dog’s teeth, and she limped up the hill on one shoe, treating the dog to a few good old-fashioned English expletives as she did so.
***
At seven-thirty as instructed, Faye – freshly showered, her dusty right foot carefully washed – changed into a light summer dress and her good sandals and went over to the kitchen, tapped on the door, and let herself in. She had locked the door to her apartment behind her but somehow, protected behind the barrier of the electric gates, she didn’t think she had much to worry about, not least if Marlon lived up to his reputation as a very vocal guard dog. There was no sign of Eddie Marshal, but she found Claudette bending down, looking at something in the oven. She looked up as Faye came in.
‘Have a nice walk?’
‘Yes, thanks, although the last half was on one leg.’ She smiled as she explained what had happened. Claudette smiled back.
‘I saw him with a sandal in his mouth when I came into the kitchen and wondered if it was yours.’ She indicated the shoe, now safely lying on the worktop out of reach of the dog.
‘How did you get it off him? I thought he was going to pull my arm out of its socket.’
‘The way you can always get a Labrador to do anything – food. I offered him a piece of biscuit and he dropped it like a flash. I should have warned you of that. When he likes somebody, he always tries to take something of theirs.’ She pointed at the wicker basket by the range cooker. ‘See that tatty red rag in there? That used to be one of Miss Beech’s scarves. He’s had it for years. Anyway, it shows he likes you.’
‘I’ll have to dig out an old sock or something for him. Walking up the gravel drive with one bare foot was a bit uncomfortable.’ She glanced down at the dog who was staring at her adoringly from his bed. ‘But no more stealing shoes, all right, Marlon?’ He wagged his tail and, if she hadn’t known better, it almost looked as if he winked. Faye sighed and returned her attention to Claudette. ‘Anyway, while I was out, I met your son.’
‘It’s hard to miss our Albert. Did he tell you they all call him Obelix?’ Claudette grinned. ‘Not too sure what happened there. His father’s not a lot taller than I am.’
‘He’s certainly a big chap. I suppose he’s the