Friday, 21 September 2007

A dark Dawn Breaking

Chief Patissier made excessively disagreeable company on the return journey home, having had to abandon a camping expedition with his friend Lawrence because of our sudden departure. He was petulant at missing their proposed trip, but was forced to face the seriousness of the situation when we returned to find an empty house. Strange he should be so swayed by Lawrence to camp I really never saw Chief Patissier as a camper, however, I digress.
As dawns light broke, casting its weak rays on the bleak scene of the cold kitchen Chief Patissier ushered the pigs into the yard, they had become quite irksome in their determination to eat his shoes, and closed the door firmly. It was chilly and I shivered although I knew not whether it was from the damp Breton climate or the deep unrest at finding our home thus. He kindly handed me a restorative glass of his best Cognac and I had not the heart to tell him it was really a concoction of eau de vie, cheap brandy, cooking sherry and cold tea the recipe for which Madame Grognonne and I had had long ago mastered in an attempt to curb escalating vintners bills.

Out in the yard the pigs were quite agitated, but I discerned, over their commotion, the sound of footsteps approaching across the cobbles. As the porcine excitement rose to a frenzy I realized that these were the heavy steps of sabot clad peasants and not as I had thought those of our children arriving with the luggage. We had left them to walk back from the station with our cases, Fresh air is, after all, very good for children. The walk from the station would have taken an hour at the very least. We had sensibly made the journey by dog cart in order to make the greatest haste possible.
If not the Children then who could it be approaching our door at this ungodly hour? Was it the sardonic sardine gutters in search of Loic? The might of the law come to waylay me for my part in the demonic Druids demise or perhaps worst still the spirit of a ghostly gendarme returning to seek revenge? As the noise of the pigs reached a crescendo the kitchen door was thrust open and there before us silhouetted against the light was a figure. It was an image I shall never forget.

The photograph is Madame Illettré, in the very dogcart which we borrowed to travel home from the station, Due to the early hour , and her being, amongst other things, a trifle deaf, we had been unable to raise her thus Chief Patissier had resourcefully left her a note pinned to the dogs kennel advising her that we had taken it. Of course Madame Illettré can not read but hopefully she will get the gist of the message and as Chief Patissier so unkindly pointed out since there is every chance I am currently being sought by the Police for spreading libelous rumours regarding the Chief Druid I may as well add theft of a vehicle to my criminal record. I am sure you will appreciate I found his levity a trifle inappropriate under the rather circumstances. I was not amused.


Frances said...

What a Shock.

Have you no more paper upon which to write? Have you spilled your last bottle of ... ink?

Why have you stopped at this point of your adventure. Surely, there could have been just one more sentence?

Must we wait until tomorrow?

Rest assured, we will gather here again.


Suffolkmum said...

Can't bear the suspense. Who on earth was it? (I do salute your and Mme G's ingenuity re the cognac. And so admire the care for you show for your children and the way you acknowledge their need for fresh air and excercise).

lampworkbeader said...

Quick woman. We need to know the worst...

PG said...

A cliff hanger worthy (er) of '24'...hurry up with the next installment...

WesterWitch/Headmistress said...

Oh so you are back from vacation to tease us are you?

I do hope the children enjoyed their 'healthy' walk with all the luggage . . .lol

Cait O'Connor said...

Just caught up with the tale and you've done it again, you've left me on a knife-edge...can you be left on a knife-edge? edge of cliff then?
I too salute the concern shown for the children's physical welfare.
Au revoir,

Anonymous said...

Drinking first thing, getting quite desperate. You leave us guessing, an excellent BBC moment.

Crystal xx

LittleBrownDog said...

Oh, Un Peu - you can't leave us all dangling like this! I sit on the edge of my seat, forefinger poised on the refresh button, to await your next installment (and if I now get RSI it'll all be your doing).

Also, can empathise with husband's levity over impending criminal record - I, too, suffer similarly.

Yours impatiently


Pondside said...

No fair - cliff-hangers are not to be tolerated. Hate to sound like a broken record, but have grave concerns over Monsieur's freindship with Lawrence. Mme you must wake up and smell the coffee!

snailbeachshepherdess said...

No clues here about a man on a horse! Mmmmmm! Or perhaps he is the visitor yet to be revealed. Share Pondsides concerns about THE relationship...can see the beginings of a Kenneth Williams Leslie Phillips farce in the distant future....'Carry on Camping' perhaps....Oh sorry ..they have already done that one to death haven't they?

Faith said...

Ah Madame, trying to catch up with your writngs....

If you are lucky maybe the pigs will devour the stranger at the door! (but not before we find out who it is!)

@themill said...

I am concerned UPL - CP may be more of a camper than you think!

ChrisH said...

It's my Uncle Bill. He probably thought he'd drop in on the way back to England.

Tattie Weasle said...

I fear it won't just be Madame requiring the cognac - any more cliff hangers and I'll be hammering at the door!

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