Alexandra and Stéphie cut short their reading the following morning in order to be first downstairs. Alexandra felt being the first one up would make Stéphie feel in control, as if she was the one making things happen. And they both enjoyed letting the hens out, seeing them emerge, clucking and pecking, waiting for the corn that she and Stéphie had with them.
Today they were going to cook pain perdu for breakfast which Alexandra knew as ‘Poor Knights’. They had discussed why they had different names for it and put it down to living in different countries.
‘I think Americans call it French toast,’ said Alexandra, soaking the thin slice of baguette in eggs and milk. ‘It has lots of names.’
‘Why?’ asked Stéphie, watching with interest as Alexandra put the first piece in the pan of sizzling butter.
‘I think everyone in the world has to use up stale bread sometimes and no one says “Ooh, let’s have stale bread for breakfast” as if it’s a treat.’
‘No,’ agreed Stéphie.
‘Now get the jam out. I found a jar of fig jam the other day. It’s in the larder.’
They were soon joined by David and Jack. Jack didn’t look terribly cheerful and David was being hearty to make up for it. Alexandra wondered if Jack’s leg was bothering him. She didn’t know how he’d got his limp and didn’t like to ask but he looked strained, and not like the cheerful character David had first introduced.
‘Morning, ladies!’ David said. ‘Another beautiful day!’
Alexandra gave David a look. ‘It is. Do you want tea or coffee? Jack? What would you like?’
‘Coffee please. Black, with sugar.’
Alexandra passed him a cup. She was familiar with the habit of serving coffee in bowls in France but as it meant a pot of coffee only provided enough for two people, she didn’t endorse it.
‘Alexandra,’ said Jack. ‘Can I have a word?’
‘Come with me into the larder,’ said Alexandra. ‘I think we’re going to need more jam.’
Once they were there, Jack spoke rapidly. ‘I wasn’t quite honest with you when I came to be a tutor. I’ve told David some of it, but I must tell you everything.’
‘Jack! I realised you aren’t yourself at the moment, but what is it?’ Alexandra’s heart was beating hard, hoping Jack wasn’t going to confess to some dreadful crime so he’d have to leave immediately. He was a good tutor, a nice man and the family needed him.
Obviously seeing her anxiety, he gave her a reassuring smile. ‘It’s nothing too awful – at least not in the eyes of the world. I’ve been here before.’
‘What? In the chateau?’
‘In Saint-Jean-du-Roc. And in the grounds of the chateau, too, if I’m honest.’
That wasn’t too bad so far. ‘Go on.’
‘I met Penelope – Grand-mère. It was before the war. She was a widow with a young daughter, Lucinda. We fell in love but … well, it was in l939, and I had to go back to England to enlist. Inevitably, we lost touch.’
Alexandra turned her gulp of surprise into a cough. ‘And you didn’t try and find her after the war?’
He shook his head. ‘My leg got mashed up in a parachute jump and I was invalided out of the army, and after that I didn’t earn a lot as a teacher. When I first met Penelope, I was a promising musician, but after the war, and with my bad leg, I couldn’t do the touring I’d have had to do if I joined an orchestra. I had nothing to offer her.’ He paused. ‘And then a friend of a friend told me they’d heard she’d remarried.’
‘Ah. That must have been a blow.’ It was heartbreaking, Alexandra thought. ‘So, what changed your mind? What made you come back here now?’
‘When David said he needed a tutor and was coming here, I couldn’t resist, for old times’ sake. But it never occurred to me I’d meet Penelope again, and that she’d be a widow once more.’
‘But you have met, and she is a widow, so that’s all right?’ Alexandra very much wanted this to be true, but she didn’t really believe in fairy-tale romances.
Jack sighed. ‘She has other suitors, as you’d expect.’
Alexandra chided herself. It had never occurred to her that Grand-mère would have suitors. But why not? She was very well preserved and would have been beautiful in her youth, it was just that Jack and Grand-mère seemed a bit old for that sort of thing.
‘Ah, well …’ Jack still seemed upset, although he’d confessed his secret.
‘Why don’t you and David go out for the day?’ she suggested. ‘Explore the area a bit more? The older children are going out with their mother anyway. Stéphie and I will be very happy entertaining ourselves. You two take the day off! Antoine will be away working.’
‘It would be good to talk it all over with David, step back from it for a little while. If you’re sure you don’t need us?’
‘We’ll have a lovely day playing with dolls or something. Don’t worry about us. Now, can you reach that jar of jam on that shelf?’
Antoine was eating the last of the French toast when Jack and Alexandra came back with the jam. He smiled and Alexandra felt obliged to smile back. ‘I have to leave for Marseille now,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure at what time I will be back.’
Alexandra noted that while his English was perfect there was sometimes something a little different about his word order.
‘OK. Do you know when Lucinda is collecting Félicité and Henri?’ she asked.
‘Félicité will know.’
‘If it’s all right with you,’ said Alexandra, feeling brave, ‘I’ve told David and Jack they can have the day off.’
Antoine nodded. ‘Will you and Stéphie be all right?’ He turned to the little girl who nodded. ‘I have to go to the city and work.’
‘We’ll have an adventure,’ she said matter-of-factly.
‘Of course,’ said Alexandra. ‘Ah, here are the others. Hang on a minute and I’ll make more French toast.’
‘We’ll need to make more jam,’ said David, who had taken the news that he had the day off without comment. ‘Or there won’t be any for next year.’
Alexandra smiled wistfully. ‘Maybe that won’t matter to us.’
‘Oh, I think it will,’ said David.
The kitchen felt very empty when everyone had left and it was just Alexandra, Stéphie, the dirty dishes and a thin layer of jam which seemed to cover everything.
‘You don’t fancy having a baking day?’ said Alexandra. She never used to be such a fan of baking herself but she’d learnt it was a good activity for children.
‘No, thank you. I want an adventure! Everyone else is having an adventure.’
‘OK, we’ll think of something …’
‘I want to go truffle-hunting. Like we did yesterday.’
‘But you went—’
‘We have a bit of land just like the land that had truffles,’ Stéphie went on. ‘Papa said. We can take Milou. He’ll be our truffle hound.’
‘I think that sounds fun!’ said Alexandra, thinking it sounded a recipe for failure. ‘Why are you so keen on finding truffles? Didn’t you do enough hunting yesterday?’
‘I want to find truffles on our land. Then Papa won’t have to go away to work. I want him to stay here.’
As she and David had spent time also looking for ways to stop Papa having to go away to work, Alexandra nodded. ‘Well, it would be wonderful to find truffles on this land, but I have to warn you, it is unlikely. And there will be other ways we can make money from the chateau. Don’t worry!’
‘I’m not worried. We’ll find truffles. They’re very valuable.’
Stéphie seemed very certain so Alexandra put together a picnic. ‘Do we need to take the car?’ she asked.
‘No, no. We just walk. Papa took us there once and said there might be truffles. We’ll find them, I know.’
Eventually they set off. Alexandra had a knapsack with their picnic, a knife and a trowel in it. The trowel was found after Stéphie showed Alexandra to a shed she hadn’t been in before. It was full of useful things, many of which would sell very well on the Portobello Road, Alexandra couldn’t help thinking. Old agricultural implements were popular items to hang on pub walls back in England. Alexandra didn’t say this out loud, but she made a note. She wasn’t optimistic about the truffles; the chateau might have to rely on disused farm equipment to make its money.
Stéphie and Milou led the way, up through the field and then to where oaks and other large trees began, leading into the woodlands which climbed up the hills behind the chateau. Alexandra was beginning to find the picnic heavy to carry. The large bottle of orange squash had made it so, she knew; she hadn’t been able to find anything that held less than a litre to put it in. If they had lunch – and it was nearly half past twelve – it would be lighter. She might also be able to persuade Stéphie it was time to go home afterwards. Alexandra’s espadrilles weren’t suitable for climbing in, and the ground was a bit muddy, too. But if her espadrilles were ruined, she could at least buy a new pair next market day.
‘We need to find a branch of a pine tree and break off all the little branches and just leave some leaves on the top, like a little broom,’ said Stéphie when she sensed Alexandra was flagging. ‘And then we need to find trees that have no grass round their base,’ she went on.
‘How do you know all this?’ said Alexandra, wishing Stéphie wasn’t quite so keen.
‘I listened carefully when the man told us. No one else seemed interested, but I was.’
‘We couldn’t have lunch first?’
Stéphie shook her head. ‘Work first, lunch after.’
Alexandra sighed. Stéphie was on a mission and this was her special day out. Alexandra hitched up the knapsack so that it rubbed her shoulders somewhere different and carried on.
‘Look, here’s a good tree,’ said Stéphie. She was standing under an oak tree and there was a patch of bare ground beneath it. ‘Now we need to see if there are flies. The flies like the smell of truffles to lay their eggs on. Help me find a branch so we can brush away the leaves and things, so we just have bare soil.’
Alexandra put down the knapsack with relief and obediently hunted for suitable branches. Luckily there were plenty to choose from.
Stéphie rejected all Alexandra’s offerings and broke off the smaller twigs from her own chosen fly whisk.
Milou, who was usually the epitome of the patient companion, flung himself down in the shade with a groan, expressing Alexandra’s feelings exactly.
‘Get a branch, Lexi! It’s not easy to find truffles, you know!’
‘I do know, chicken, but you don’t like any of my branches, and I think we should have lunch before we start.’
‘No!’ Stéphie was firm. ‘I’ll do it on my own if you don’t want to join in.’
‘I’ll just watch you to begin with, to see what you do,’ said Alexandra, perching on a convenient rock so she could see if she was getting a blister. It was quite stony underfoot here and her shoes slid about when she stepped on the rough ground.
Stéphie swept away for a bit and then suddenly lay on her stomach and started sniffing. ‘The truffle hunter’s most important piece of equipment is his nose,’ she said, obviously quoting the expert they’d met the previous day. ‘There are flies here.’
Milou got up and stretched before going over to find out why one of his people was lying on the ground. Then he started sniffing too. For a few seconds Alexandra thought he was just joining in out of politeness but then realised his nose was down and he was starting to paw the ground.
‘Look at Milou!’ said Stéphie, getting up. ‘He’s a truffle hound!’
‘Has he done this before?’ Alexandra joined the truffle hunters.
‘I don’t know,’ said Stéphie, ‘but look!’
Milou was really digging now, covering Alexandra and Stéphie with soil.
Stéphie went over, and then exclaimed in disappointment. ‘Oh, it’s only a rock.’
‘Maybe the truffle is under the rock,’ suggested Alexandra. ‘Dogs have extremely sensitive noses. I read it somewhere. Let’s help him get it out.’ She found the trowel. She moved Milou to one side and started trying to prise the rock out of the ground. She had to dig quite a bit more and wondered if she should have left Milou to it for a bit longer. Then she paused. ‘Stéphie? Can you smell something?’
They both lay full length on the ground, not caring about the mud, and sniffed. A strange, musky scent was discernible through the smell of earth. They looked at each other. ‘I think that might be truffle,’ said Alexandra.
Suddenly, getting the rock out of the way was their urgent goal and together they dug, heaved and waggled, as if at a stubborn tooth. At last the rock moved and eventually they managed to dislodge it completely. Milou was beside himself, digging furiously.
‘Will he eat the truffle?’ asked Stéphie.
‘I don’t know!’ said Alexandra. ‘It may not even be a truffle. It might be a dead body or something.’
Stéphie stopped and gasped. ‘That would be terrible!’
‘It would be of an animal or something. Not a person,’ said Alexandra, backtracking slightly. ‘Don’t worry. Here, let me have the trowel. Milou, you have a rest for a while. Stéphie, you hold his collar.’
By now the ground was a lot looser and the digging was easier. Milou pulled harder and harder until he broke free of Stéphie’s grasp, pushed Alexandra out of the way and dug furiously again until at last he stopped, something in his mouth. He dropped what he was holding at Stéphie’s feet.
‘A truffle!’ she exclaimed. ‘And it’s huge!’
