The Chateau

by Catherine Cooper

  2

  September, Mozène

  Aura

  The film crew and the pool diggers arrive at almost exactly the same time. I leave Nick to sort out the workmen as his French is a bit better than mine and I show the TV people to their rooms. They’re going to be with us for about two months (to start with – then they’ll come back now and again after that to see how we’re getting on). They will be with us round the clock, apparently, so they can be fully immersed in our lives. I don’t mind at all, it gives me an excuse to try out the hospitality skills I’ll need once the chambres d’hôtes is up and running.

  The ‘crew’ consists of just two people who are much younger than I was expecting – in their very early twenties. Seb is the producer/director and Chloe is the researcher/runner. I don’t think they’re a couple and it seemed impolite to ask, so I’ve made them each up a room on the top floor of the chateau – if I’ve misunderstood and they want to corridor-creep, that’s their own business.

  Chateau Ricane came with a lot of furniture – most of it isn’t anything special, as far as I can see, and I doubt there is anything of real value. I am slowly sorting through it to see what can be kept and what can be upcycled – I think it will be nice to keep as much of the original stuff as possible. There are some half-decent armoires and the furniture being here at least meant that there was already a bed in most of the rooms when we arrived, even if the mattresses are a bit saggy. Obviously I will buy new ones before any paying guests check in, but I haven’t had the time yet. The TV crew will just have to make do.

  Once Seb and Chloe have dumped their bags they appear back downstairs in the kitchen. The kitchen is my favourite room of the house, or at least I think it will be once it’s been tidied up properly. There is a huge Aga which is about the only thing in the house which looks vaguely new and will make it nice and cosy in winter (though admittedly, it’s making it a little too hot at the moment), lovely flagstones, a window which overlooks the grounds, and hideous cupboards which will need to be pulled out ASAP. It’s the boys’ lunchtime and they are at the table eating pasta and pesto (from a jar but organic) – one day I will grow basil in the garden and make my own. I’ve also made a pot of tea for Seb and Chloe.

  ‘What would you like to do first?’ I ask them. ‘Are you going to get started with the filming today or do you want to have a look around first, settle in and the like? Do a recce, isn’t that what they say in films?’

  Seb takes a large gulp of tea. ‘We’ll start shooting this afternoon, if that’s OK with you. But we really want you to get on with what you’d normally be doing day to day and we’ll just take the bits we need. That’s why we’re having this extended stay with you – the idea is to make the finished product seem more natural than some of the other programmes in this vein.’

  I nod. ‘OK. Well, as you know, outside the men are starting to dig the pool, so that’s maybe something you might like to have a look at. Nick’s supervising them. As for me, I’m mainly keeping an eye on the boys. Then mid-afternoon I’m off into town to collect our HappyHelp person from the station.’

  ‘HappyHelp?’ Chloe asks.

  ‘Yes! It’s brilliant. It’s for young people who are travelling – you put them up and feed them and they do a few hours’ work for you each day – well, five days a week – they get time off, obviously! The girl who’s arriving today is mainly going to help look after the boys while I get on with other stuff, though we’ll probably have her doing a bit of cleaning and the like too.’

  ‘So like an au-pair, only unpaid?’ Chloe asks.

  I frown. I know they’ve only just arrived, but of the two of them I definitely prefer Seb so far.

  ‘No, not really,’ I say. ‘I see it more as a labour exchange. We offer her something – bed, board and experience of French life, and she offers us something – help with the children. No one is making her do it – she wants to come here.’

  Chloe nods, but I see her try to hide a smirk. ‘Great. Ideal, I’m sure,’ she says.

  ‘I think so. If it works out well, we might even see about getting some others in – we have so much space here. There are people in my Facebook group who have whole teams of them helping with their renovations and stuff. But it’s easier to get people in July and August when all the students are travelling, apparently. At this time of year, you have to take who you can get to a degree. Especially when you live as rurally as we do – we’re not much of a draw for young people. No nightlife here!’ I laugh, but it sounds false even to my own ears.

  ‘OK,’ Seb says. ‘In that case, I think we’ll leave you to get the boys sorted out and go and have a look at what’s happening out by the pool. And then obviously we’ll want to meet your new arrival later. What’s her name?’

  ‘It’s Helen. She’s already in the area, which is why she’s able to start at short notice. I’m delighted.’

  3

  September, Mozène

  Aura

  I drive really slowly to the station to collect Helen – I’m still not used to being on the wrong side of the road. I’ve seen a photo of Helen on her HappyHelp profile and have told her what kind of car I’m driving, so hopefully we will be able to recognize each other.

  As it is, only two people get off the train at our sleepy little station and one is a man, so it’s pretty clear which one is her.

  ‘Helen?’ I say, approaching her with my hand outstretched. ‘I’m Aura. So lovely to meet you. How was your journey?’

  She is not quite what I was expecting – the picture on her profile must be an old one. She’s got a good few years on me, and is definitely older than the average backpacker. It’s difficult to place her age. Late thirties maybe? Perhaps even early forties – she’s rather mumsy-looking with her shoulder-length, nondescript hair and somewhat dowdy jeans and T-shirt.

  ‘It was fine, thank you,’ she says. ‘I haven’t come that far – only a couple of trains.’

  ‘Ah yes. Where was it you were before?’

  ‘Near Montauban,’ she replies. ‘Been there about a month, helping out on a farm.’

  She’s not exactly forthcoming, but maybe she’s tired. Or shy. ‘Sounds lovely!’ I trill. ‘And the family there seemed very impressed with your help.’

  I blush. I’ve never had any ‘staff’ before – not even a cleaner – and I don’t know how our interactions should be. Not that Helen is staff, exactly, this is a labour exchange, a cultural experience, like I told Miss Judgy Pants Chloe. I contacted the family she was with before for a reference and they couldn’t have been more complimentary. And I don’t feel ashamed to let Helen know that I checked her reference; I’m not going to have just anyone in my house, after all, am I?

  ‘Yes, it was a great place to be and they made me very welcome,’ Helen says. Maybe she is making her own point there, that she doesn’t expect to be treated like a servant. ‘But it was time to move on – the whole idea of taking a year off was to travel, not spend all my time in one place.’

  ‘Well, I hope you’ll enjoy staying with us just as much,’ I say. ‘It’s all a bit rough and ready at home at the moment as we’ve not long arrived, but I think you’ll agree that the setting is beautiful, especially if you’re a nature-lover.’

  She nods. ‘I’m looking forward to it. I’m excited at the prospect of staying in a chateau.’

  My heart swells with pride. I still can’t quite believe that we live in a chateau now, even if it is falling down around our ears.

  I show Helen her room, which is nicer than the ones I’ve given to Seb and Chloe as I’m keen for her to stay as long as possible. She is one floor down from them and one up from us and the boys. And that still leaves several rooms spare – I can’t get over the novelty of having so much space.

  ‘Thank you, it’s lovely,’ she says, although she seems somewhat underwhelmed. Perhaps she was expecting something a little less shabby round the edges.

  ‘Why don’t I leave you to get organized, and then I can
make everyone some tea and introduce you to Nick and the boys?’ I say.

  She nods. ‘Great – thank you.’

  My phone pings. It’s a message from Frank:

  Hey. How’s it going there?

  I smile. He’s so sweet and thoughtful.

  OK. Busy. My HappyHelp’s just arrived – not entirely sure what I think of her yet – and we’ve got the film crew here too. Lots going on!

  Sounds like you need a break! How about I come over and make you a cup of tea? If you’re lucky I might even bring cake …

  I smile. Frank’s been so helpful since I joined English Speakers in the Mozène, and it would be nice to meet someone local. It strikes me with a pang of loneliness that we know absolutely no one here.

  Why not? Why don’t you come tomorrow? Would be lovely to meet you.

  Looking forward to it xxxx

  At dinner Helen seems more relaxed and starts to grow on me a little.

  ‘So, Helen, what made you come to France?’ Nick asks.

  ‘I’m taking a year or so off from normal life. I was offered voluntary redundancy from my IT job with the council, and for various personal reasons I needed a change of scene, so it seemed a case of now or never.’

  ‘Absolutely! Do it while you can, while you’ve got no ties, yes?’ Nick says.

  She nods. ‘Yep.’

  I assume by ‘personal reasons’ she means she’s been through a relationship break-up, but obviously I’m not going to pry.

  ‘Wish I’d done that too when I had the chance,’ Nick says. ‘Too late now!’ I slap him gently on the arm as if I’m being playful but, actually, his words cut deeply. Given our time again, I think we’d probably both do things differently.

  ‘Not that I’m not delighted to be here with my lovely family,’ he adds hastily, seeing the expression on my face.

  We were only a couple of years out of university when I got pregnant with Sorrel. I’d been doing a lot of reading about hormones, chemicals and Big Pharma at the time and had stopped taking the pill. We thought we were being careful, but obviously not careful enough.

  Initially, I panicked. We were too young to have a baby, surely? But then I thought about it more and it became apparent to me that this was what Mother Nature had intended – who was I to go against that? Nick wasn’t keen at first, but we talked and talked and I went for an angel reading which made it very clear I should keep the baby. Eventually I brought Nick round to my way of thinking – this baby was meant to be and I was going to have it, with or without him.

  We’d been together almost four years by then and one night Nick took me out to our favourite restaurant and proposed. He is from a very traditional family and I’ve always wondered if his parents told him he should ‘do the right thing’, even though he denies it. We got married shortly after Sorrel was born; I didn’t want to be a comically pregnant bride. His parents are still annoyed about their first grandchild being born before Nick and I were married.

  ‘You’re very lucky to live here,’ Helen adds. ‘It’s a beautiful place you have and I’m so looking forward to getting to know you all. What would you like me to start with tomorrow?’

  4

  September, Mozène

  Aura

  The main reason for having Helen here is to help with the children, so in the morning I start by introducing her to the boys. She described herself in her biog on the HappyHelp site as a ‘very hands-on auntie’. Her sister apparently lives just down the road from her and has four children, so she has lots of experience with babies and toddlers. She also helped with the children at her previous HappyHelp posting.

  Until Sorrel and Bay went to nursery, I was always very reluctant and nervous about leaving them with anyone. In fact, Nick and I had only one night out together in between Sorrel’s birth and setting off for France, when he pretty much forced me to let his mother babysit, and even then we ended up coming home before dessert because I felt too anxious.

  But since they started nursery and I’ve grown more accustomed to them being away from me, I feel much calmer about leaving them with other people. Now that Helen’s here to help look after them, I will be able to get on with setting up the chambres d’hôtes and my counselling business. And it’s not like I’ll ever be very far away from them anyway, is it? It really couldn’t be more convenient.

  Helen seems like a natural with them over breakfast, making Bay giggle by playing peekaboo and helping Sorrel mash his bananas into his porridge the way he likes to.

  ‘Is everything OK in your room, Helen?’ I ask. Even though she seems reserved almost to the point of frostiness, I can already see she’ll be such a help with the boys. I want her to feel comfortable here so that she’ll stay as long as possible. ‘Did you sleep OK?’

  ‘Yes, it was all great, thank you,’ she replies. ‘It’s so lovely and quiet here!’

  ‘Noises in room,’ Sorrel says sombrely, his mouth full of porridge. Sadly, this has become a bit of a theme since our arrival. I’m trying to be patient as I’m sure the move has been unsettling for the boys, but his constant night-waking is leaving me exhausted.

  ‘Yes, Sorrel, I know, you woke us up several times last night, didn’t you? But as we talked about, at great length, old houses like this make noises. It’s not something to be scared of.’

  After everything that went on back in London, Nick and I attended couple’s counselling where we both set out what we felt we needed to make our relationship work. I said we needed an entirely fresh start – hence the move to France. Nick’s number one wish was that the boys needed to stop sleeping in our bed so that we could feel more connected as a couple. That was how he put it, at least, but what he actually meant was so we might have more sex. Even though my wish seems like the bigger life change, I still worry about how not having the boys close to me at night will affect them. I don’t know why I let Nick persuade me.

  And yet, I could sort of see Nick’s point. If we had been more connected as a couple (and having more sex), paying more attention to each other, the whole thing in London probably wouldn’t have happened. And I do want us to stay together – for the sake of the boys, if nothing else. So in the end I agreed to the new sleeping arrangements, just as Nick agreed to the move to France. And while Bay has taken to sleeping apart from me fairly well (after a few nights of screaming, though less than I’d expected), Sorrel is clearly not enjoying it at all and tries to come back into our bed every single night. Even though we have so much space here, I have put the boys in the one room together for company. In retrospect, this may have been a bad idea. Sorrel is still unsettled and he ends up waking Bay most nights.

  Nick is standing firm and taking Sorrel back to his own bed every time he comes into our room, but every single time it breaks my heart. Last night, once I could tell that Nick was properly asleep, I crept across the landing and cuddled up with Sorrel in his tiny bed. I miss the feel of his warm little body and the organic baby shampoo smell of his hair. They’re small for such a short amount of time. I want to make the most of it.

  ‘I’ve got an idea, Sorrel,’ Helen says, winking at me. ‘How about after breakfast we give your room a really good tidy so we can check there’s nothing in there that shouldn’t be? Then, once we’re sure, if Mummy can find me a couple of old wire coat hangers, we can collect some bits and pieces from the garden and make a dreamcatcher – how does that sound? I’ve heard they’re pretty good at keeping strange noises away from little boys as well as bad dreams.’

  I smile at her and mouth ‘thank you’.

  ‘Make ’catcher,’ Sorrel agrees solemnly, nodding.

  ‘That sounds exciting, doesn’t it, Sorrel?’ I say. ‘I’ll find you some hangers right after breakfast, Helen. I think there are some ancient pillows in the loft – maybe you’d like the feathers from them? Or you might be able to find some in the garden?’

  Helen gets up, clears away the breakfast things and puts them in the dishwasher. ‘Don’t worry – I think we’ll find ever
ything we need in the garden. I’m sure you’ve got things to get on with. Would you like me to make lunch too?’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind, that would be lovely, thank you.’

  She nods. ‘No problem. Kids always like to get involved in cooking, I find. I’ll have a hunt around in the fridge and see what there is, if that’s OK with you. It’ll be fun for all of us.’

  Frank arrives on the dot of 11 a.m. with a bunch of wildflowers and a pot of home-made jam. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t have time to make cake, so I hope these will do instead,’ he says. Once he has handed them over to me, he kisses me on both cheeks, as everyone of all ages and both sexes seems to do here. I’m not sure if I love it or hate it; either way, I certainly haven’t got used to it yet.

  ‘Aura!’ He steps back a little but hasn’t yet let go of my shoulders. His proximity is making me uncomfortable – even though we’ve spoken a lot online, this is the first time we’ve met – so I turn away to fill the kettle. ‘How are you settling in?’

  ‘Fine, I think,’ I say. ‘It’s a bit daunting – there seems to be so much to do. I really appreciate you helping out with everything before we got here – it would have been a nightmare to arrive with no electricity or internet.’