‘The whole getting mad at him thing because you’re afraid of heightsandfeel a spark towards him so you storm off andvoilà,Noah returnswith his trusty ladder to get the windows clean to his exacting standards, thus leaving you with another job completed. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re turning out more and more like me every day.’ She waggles a brow.
My mouth falls open. How can she get this so wrong? ‘It’s infuriating that he’s taken it upon himself to clean the windows when I specifically told him we didn’t need or want his help. I can’t believe you’d think this is a good thing, Manon! What gives him the right…?’
She holds up a hand. ‘Save it, please. Let’s plan what job we want him to save us from next. The painting? Shall we tell him we have no idea how to cut in the high bits and it’s a little scary being a wholefourrungs up the ladder?’
I fight a smile because Manon is wrong, but she is funny. ‘You’re single-handedly going to set feminism back a hundred years, Manon, with that nonsense.’
‘If I don’t have to paint the high bits then I’m totally OK with that.’
I plonk down on the sofa next to her. ‘You’re a liar too. Please don’t encourage Noah. I can’t handle any more of his condescendinghimpathy. I swear he thinks it’s still the Roaring Twenties for crying out loud and us little women are best hidden away in the kitchen making batch food and leaving the heavy lifting to the men.’
She shakes her head. ‘You’re crazy not to accept his help.’
‘We don’t need his help!’ I cry. ‘But then he goes ahead and does it anyway.’
She averts her gaze but not before I detect a guilty look in her eyes. ‘I told him he could do the windows.’
‘Manon!’
‘What?’ She lifts her palms into the air. ‘Look at this room now bathed in natural light, even though the skies are moody today, just likesomepeople who shall remain nameless.Anais.’
‘Ugrh, there’s no getting through to you. Come and see what I found.’
‘Now?’
‘Now.’ I grab her hands and pull her from the sofa.
In the storage room, I show Manon all of the items that we can either sell or use around the hotel, like the four armchairs that will be our next DIY project.
‘Do we really have to sell the wine? I’ve never tried a vintage from 1949. What if it’s the best thing we ever tasted?’
‘Think of it this way. It’ll be the best thing wenevertasted.’
‘How did I know you’d say that?’
‘Help me take these chairs to the guest lounge. We’ll see about finding new cushion inserts and hopefully we can save the velvet blue fabric. And the frames, we can paint those.’
12
10 NOVEMBER
The next afternoon, the backpackers return earlier than usual, bringing in with them an icy wind.
It’s cold for November and I hope it means we’ll have snow for Christmas. There’s just something about snowy wintry weather when you catch a snowflake and make a Christmas wish. They join us in the guest lounge, where we’ve set up a makeshift workshop, layering newspaper to protect the parquetry to paint bedside tables from the four suites we’ve chosen to redo first. I’m just putting the finishing touches on the last one. For such small pieces of furniture, it’s surprisingly time-intensive to paint.
We’ve gone for a dark navy chalk paint that hides most of the battle scars. ‘These are gorgeous,’ Kiki says, pointing to our row of freshly painted bedsides.
‘Merci. We’re going to replace the standard silver drawer pulls with some brass or gold ones to give them a more luxe look.’
‘Magnifique.’
‘Do you want me to light the fire in the library room?’ I ask. I found a stack of firewood earlier when I was out the backwashing paintbrushes. Another cost saved, and we’ll be long gone by next winter so won’t need to worry about another wood delivery.
‘Non,it’s OK,’ Juliette says. ‘I wanted to show you a couple of literary places that we spoke about! No one turned up for our second tour today, so I have time, if you do too?’
‘Oui, I have time. I’m sorry about your tour. Does that happen often?’
‘Almost every day, lately. It’s to be expected. Tourists get held up in queues for the Louvre, or Sainte-Chapelle, many of the popular sights. Or they get lost and lose track of time. It’s part of the job but still stings when a big group is a no show, which is what happened today.C’est la vie.’
