Beyond the Arch

by David Evered

  The following Saturday, Peter decided to take a walk to try and clear his mind. This took him close to the Vézère and he realised he was not far from the Browning’s castle. On an impulse, he walked into the reception and rang the bell. Tilly appeared after a few moments. She kissed him on both cheeks. ‘Hello, what brings you here?’

  ‘I was taking a walk along the valley when I saw your castle in the distance and walked over on an impulse, hoping to find you in and, perhaps, invite myself in for a cup of coffee.’

  ‘Of course, it’s lovely to see you. It’s good to see regular visitors. Most of our guests are delightful but they are transient; you are rather less transient. Come in and have a coffee. Jonny has gone to pay a visit to his favourite caviste and will be back within the next half hour.’ She scrutinised his face closely for a moment. ‘You look tired. Come up to our lounge and tell me all that you’ve been doing over the last three weeks.’ She looked out and saw a car drawing up. ‘That was speedy. It’s Jonny. He has either been very successful or profoundly disappointed! We shall discover which very quickly.’ She glanced up as he walked in. ‘Look who’s just strolled in! We were just about to have a coffee and he was going to tell me what he’s been up to since we last saw him. Have you had a successful trip to the caviste?’

  He shook Peter’s hand. ‘Yes, very successful. I’ve bought some Mercurey and Givry. But let’s go and have that coffee. I could do with a cup!’

  ‘How is Sally?’

  ‘She’s well. Enjoying the challenge of the project and probing the reactions of local people – both the politicians and officials and also the man and woman in the street. She says it’s very clear that Britain acceding to the European Community is not seen as an unalloyed good by many of the French. There appears to be rather more enthusiasm for it in Germany. She’ll be back here at the end of next month when I’m sure she’ll tell you more.’

  ‘What about your plans?’

  ‘I’m undecided at present. I shall certainly stay on here as a house-sitter until Sally returns and then I have promised my family that I’ll be home for Christmas, but I’m not sure just now precisely when I shall leave. What about you?’

  ‘We’ve reached the point in the year when the number of guests is dropping off sharply. We shall remain open for All Saints, which falls on a weekend this year, and then close for the winter. If Sally is back, you should both come over for dinner one evening that weekend.’

  ‘And after that?’

  ‘We’re planning to establish a routine of going round the building and drawing up a schedule of works to be carried out over the winter. It should be fairly short as we’ve only recently renovated the place. We’ll certainly go back to London for Christmas but probably not until early December. Our son has a young boy who is coming up to two years old and we want to see him. He and the family came out here early in the summer and that was great. Why don’t you stay the night and have dinner with us? Only four of the rooms are occupied tonight.’

  ‘I came here on foot.’

  ‘That’s no problem. One of us will drive you back to your car and you can go and collect a toothbrush and then come back and stay the night.’

  ‘That sounds like quite an imposition.’

  ‘Not at all, we should enjoy the company. Where did you park?’

  ‘A few miles up the river at Tursac.’

  ‘Then it will only take a few minutes to re-unite you with your car. Why don’t you come back at around seven, say? We should like to hear more about Sally’s commission and also more of the reasons that induced you to leave your secure profession and take a year out.’

  It did not take much persuasion for Peter to assent and he returned in time to join his hosts for a glass of wine while having the luxury once again of being able to choose from their menu for dinner.

  ‘We’re having an evening celebrating Lyonnais dishes tonight,’ explained Jonny. ‘They tend to be somewhat substantial but you should try them.’

  He looked at the menu. ‘You’ll have to guide me here. I simply don’t recognise the names of these dishes.’

  ‘Very well – how about some suggestions? The soup is a pumpkin soup or you could try the quenelles de brochet. They are traditionally described as dumplings but that does not do them justice. They are much lighter than that, more like a mousse, traditionally made with pike and served with a Nantua sauce which is made from crayfish, celery, carrots and Cognac. Then I would suggest poularde demi-deuil, a chicken dish prepared with truffles thus giving rise to the alternate black and white appearance of the flesh, hence a chicken half in mourning. Finally, my preference would be for some cheese and we have bought in Saint Marcellin for the occasion.’

  ‘It sounds wonderful. I’m happy to be guided by you.’

  ‘We have avoided some other Lyonnais dishes which we felt might be less appealing, like tablier de sapeur. This literally means a fireman’s apron but it’s a tripe dish.’

  ‘I should have been happy to pass on that!’

  ‘Good – now let’s see how good the recommendations of my caviste have been.’

  ‘That was excellent,’ Peter said as they relaxed with coffee and a brandy after dinner. ‘The food was amazing.’

  ‘We were talking about your decision to abandon your profession, at least for a year. What induced you to do so?’ asked Tilly.

  ‘I’ve been trying to analyse that myself and, like so many major decisions which we make about our personal lives, there are so many factors involved. Some originate from our own personalities but they are also shaped by experience. I’ve always enjoyed the physical process of writing and I’ve always enjoyed reading. I’ve noticed since I started putting pen to paper that I have become much more aware in my reading of fiction of the plot structure, the imagery which authors use and the ways in which they handle dialogue, either in the form of direct or reported speech. I’ve also become aware of my own limitations. My practical experience of writing until a few months ago didn’t stretch beyond occasional stories written while at school to satisfy the demands of teachers. I suspect that my latent wish to write might well have remained unfulfilled if it hadn’t been for recent personal circumstances which have given me a degree of freedom that I’ve never had before. The influence of others has also had an impact, particularly Sally, and an old friend from my student days who is also a lawyer. But you’ve done a similar thing in leaving and setting up here.’

  ‘But I think you’ve been much bolder in a way.’

  ‘I’m not so sure. I have the equivalent of a return ticket in my pocket.’

  ‘Maybe, but as we said when you were last here, we were sufficiently secure financially to be able to leave and comprehensively burn our bridges behind us. We also have the opportunity to offer professional advice to other expatriates. Do you feel that you can see your destiny in the longer term?’

  ‘No, I’m not even sure I can predict what the next month holds for me and 1970 seems like a distant country. I hope not to return home abjectly, with nothing of substance to show for my absence.’

  ‘And if you’re successful?’

  ‘I scarcely dare consider that possibility.’

  ‘We really have no right to ask this but what about your future at a personal level?’

  ‘I wish I knew,’ he hesitated, ‘or perhaps I don’t. The only thing I can say with assurance is that for the first time in my life I’m learning to co-exist with a state of incertitude. Slowly I’m adapting to this state and even starting to relish the lack of inevitability as to what the next day might bring. I know that sounds as if I’m evading the question but I simply don’t know where I might be next year emotionally. I have benefitted from and at the same time been disadvantaged by a very conventional middle-class upbringing. I don’t know what your backgrounds were but I might hazard a guess that they were similar to my own.’

  ‘You’
re correct, but we should release you from this cross-examination. We’re much enjoying your company and hope that you’ll come back again at the beginning of November when Sally has returned. Equally, you are more than welcome to come again before that.’

  ‘I think it would be appropriate to have a return match before that. I can’t possibly match the quality of the cuisine provided by your chef but I can produce a meal which is edible and I can ensure that it’s accompanied by some good wine. I’ll call you to fix a date. There is, however, one thing that I need to arrange first. I received an invitation to visit Lyon to talk to a lawyer there. This would be valuable for my book. I need to see when that might be convenient for my hosts. The introduction to Lyonnais dishes was wonderful so it seems it would be worth going there simply to eat!’

  ‘It is. Lyon regards itself as the gastronomic headquarters of France and you can scarcely walk along a street without tripping over a Michelin star. It’s also very French and a remarkably beautiful and historic city. You’ll enjoy it. Make sure that you take the time to be a tourist as well.’

  23

  The following day Peter wrote to François and Madeleine Carnot to ask if he might take up their invitation to visit and talk to one of their lawyer friends. He received a response later in the week with a warm invitation which offered a number of options. They pointed out that there would be two major civic events in Lyon before Christmas which might be of interest to him. The first would be the arrival of the Beaujolais Nouveau on the fifteenth of November and the second the Fête des Lumières on the eighth of December. If neither of these dates were possible, they suggested that he stay for three nights from Thursday 16th to Sunday 19th of October. This would give him half a day to speak to their lawyer friend and a day and a half to see Lyon. He accepted for the last of these dates with alacrity.

  He drove to Lyon and located the Carnot’s apartment in a late nineteenth century building in the sixth arondissement, close to the Rhône and overlooking the Parc de la Tête d’Or. He was warmly greeted by François and Madeleine and shown to a spacious room with a view of the park. After he had abandoned his bag he joined them for a coffee. ‘I hope you will be happy about what we have done but we have made various arrangements for your stay. Marie, Pierre and Julie will be joining us for dinner this evening. Tomorrow our friend, Armand Delacroix, will meet you for lunch so that you can talk about your project and discover how we deal with divorce and its consequences here in France, and then we plan to eat out tomorrow evening. You cannot visit Lyon and not visit one of our more renowned restaurants. On Saturday, sadly, we have to abandon you as we must visit Madeleine’s mother in Beaune who has had a fall and broken her hip but Julie lives quite close by and she has offered to look after you and show you the city and then provide you with a bed for the night. I hope you will not mind that we have had to change the arrangements slightly.’

  ‘Not at all. I’m just grateful to you for offering me your hospitality and making these arrangements. Can I offer you dinner tomorrow?’

  ‘Absolutely not. You are a guest and a first time visitor. Maybe if you come again then we should consider you to be an honorary Lyonnais. And if you do come again, you should certainly try to time your visit to coincide with one of the major local events which we mentioned in our letter.’

  The following day Peter made his way to the chambers of Armand, close to the Palais de Justice and they went to a small restaurant nearby. It became clear from the discussion that the system in France was in many ways similar to that in England, the jurisdiction under which the divorce would be granted being determined in most instances in France, as in England, by the country of the habitual residence of the parents. In the majority of cases in England, sole custody would be awarded to the mother with access arrangements for the father; in the remainder of cases sole custody might be awarded to the father or joint arrangements agreed. In France, on the other hand, the Family Courts generally tended to favour joint custody arrangements unless there were exceptional circumstances. The issues Peter was hoping to explore in his novel were those where one parent would not accept the ruling of the court and would obstruct access to or, more seriously, abduct the child. Enforcing a judgement in a civil matter, which was delivered in one jurisdiction when the child was living in another, was particularly difficult, challenging and time-consuming, and often impossible. The difficulties of the situation were often aggravated by partial media reporting in the two countries concerned.

  Peter left after lunch and decided to walk for a time before returning to the Carnot’s apartment. He wandered over the Rhône and turned left along the bank of the river. He cut in towards the heart of the city and the vast red gravelled expanse of the Place Bellecour, surrounded by monolithic nineteenth century buildings with the great equestrian statue of Louis XIV at its heart. He collected a street map from the tourist office and then walked slowly up the Rue de la République to the Hôtel de Ville on the Place des Terreaux. He stopped for a coffee and then took a bus back to the apartment. The rest of the day proved to be one of pure indulgence. His hosts took him to La Mère Brazier, one of many starred restaurants in the city and one which epitomised the leading role of female chefs in the development of Lyonnaise cuisine.

  Saturday was clear and mild and the Carnots guided Peter to Julie’s apartment in the third arondissement before departing for Beaune. ‘I hope you’re feeling fit,’ she said. ‘This is a city best explored on foot but I would suggest that first we take the bus and then the funicular to Fourvière. That’s the hill with the basilica which you can see from the central square and many other points in the city. I love this city and showing it off to visitors.’

  Half an hour later they had reached the summit of the hill. They explored the Roman amphitheatres and then entered the great white basilica with a tower at each corner which dominated the skyline. ‘This is sometimes known irreverently as the upside down white elephant,’ she said. ‘It was built as a tribute to the Virgin Mary for saving the city from the plague, cholera and various other threats, such as Prussians. It’s also the focus for the Fête des Lumières in December. The centre of Lyon is closed to traffic then and people place candles in their windows throughout the city.’ Peter was not ready for the elaborate gold-encrusted and marble interior with its massive mosaic scenes depicting episodes in church and French history. It was overwhelming and contrasted strikingly with the vast but much simpler crypt below. They exited and wandered across to the promenade from where they had a spectacular view of Lyon and beyond before descending to the mediaeval city immediately below on the banks of the Saône. Here they explored the old cobbled streets and the twelfth century Gothic cathedral of Saint Jean with its ancient stained glass depicting the redemption and its elaborate astronomical clock.

  ‘We should pause for lunch,’ said Julie. ‘Where did you eat last night?’

  ‘At La Mère Brazier.’

  ‘Then we shall do something very different. You cannot come to Lyon and not visit a bouchon.’

  ‘With my limited but improving French I thought that was a cork or a traffic jam!’

  ‘And so it is, but here in Lyon it’s also a designation for a simple restaurant serving traditional Lyonnais dishes. The portions are robust rather than nouvelle cuisine and we should treat ourselves to a Pot Lyonnais.’

  ‘Whatever’s that?’

  ‘It’s a uniquely Lyonnais quantity of wine which comes in an open-topped bottle with a thick glass base containing 46 centilitres. The best bouchons are over the Saône on the Presqu’île which is the heart of the city. It will be a late lunch but we can relax as we have all day. This was the area where you walked yesterday, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, but I only scratched the surface. This is wonderful and you’re a great guide. I can see you love Lyon. How long have you lived here?’

  ‘A little more than two years.’

  ‘Did you speak French before you came?
’

  ‘Reasonably well but I speak it much better now. I need to in my job.’

  ‘You said you were in property.’

  ‘Yes, I deal in commercial property for an international property and development company based in London. So I travel there from time to time.’

  ‘If you don’t mind me asking, how was it that you decided to leave New York and come here?’

  ‘I worked in real estate back home. I was born in a small town in Wisconsin. After college and getting married I lived in Seattle but when the marriage broke up after three years I decided to move to New York. It was a parting by mutual agreement. There was no cataclysmic event which precipitated it. We just were not well suited. Jake has remarried and now has two children. We exchange greetings at Thanksgiving and are on amicable terms. I spent just over two years in New York which is where I met Marie. I decided to leave after she came back to France.’ She laughed. ‘The journey to Europe completes the journey from small town girl to international sophisticate!’

  ‘So did you specifically seek a job in Lyon?’

  ‘No, but I did find a job with a British company which was expanding its operations in continental Europe and I was posted to France. Initially, I spent a year in Paris and then was sent here to open up an office for the region.’

  ‘You seem to have quite a social life here. How did you manage that?’