The Golden Gals' French Adventure by Judy Leigh

Author:Judy Leigh [Leigh, Judy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books
Published: 2024-06-04T00:00:00+00:00

22

BOATS AND SHOES

Chapellin was a charming historical town, even from the cramped back seat of Manu’s car. Shirl sat between Macey, who was gnawing a carrot in her baby seat, and Fliss, who was checking her hair in a small mirror. Shirl noticed she’d kicked off one of her shoes, currently overturned in the footwell. It was clearly not comfortable. Fliss saw Shirl’s interest and said glibly, ‘These are Love 85 pumps…’

Confused, Shirl shook her head; where she came from, pumps were trainers – they certainly didn’t have huge heels. It was so typical of Fliss – she was going canoeing and those black flimsy shoes were inappropriate anywhere near grass, soil or water. But she had to admit, she admired her panache.

Shirl stared through the window, taking in Chapellin, a bigger town than Plouvannec. The wide river ran alongside the road, through the centre. The water shone silver in the sunshine beneath arched stone bridges, each side ribboned by a grassy bank. Trees dipped low branches, their leaves floating on the surface like handspans. The town flanked the river on both sides, row upon row of white three-storey houses and a tall church with an ornate spire that seemed to pierce the clouds. Shops glided past, a bank, a small café with white tables and parasols – Shirl noticed the name Gaston’s and recalled the angry young man who had shouted furiously at Joël in Le Shack. A group of cyclists in bright jerseys overtook them in a flash and Shirl turned her attention back to the river. She saw a sign, Kastell Canoë-Kayak and she asked, ‘Are we here?’

Manu, cool in Wayfarer sunglasses, turned the car sharply to drive along a gravel path that swooped downwards in a curve. He braked next to a large shed with open doors where a man was dragging out a yellow canoe. ‘This is the place…’ He seemed pleased. ‘The others are here already.’

Bérnard was standing in the car park, talking to two other people whose backs were turned, a tall man, a small woman. Fliss muttered, ‘I wasn’t expecting to see others from the town.’

‘I spoke to them yesterday and invited them all. Joël has brought a picnic hamper. Gisele has pastries and bread and Bérnard knows the best wine. We will have a feast.’

‘That sounds wonderful,’ Fliss said. ‘So, what happens now?’

Théo leaned over and said something to Manu in French. Manu twisted round. ‘We get out, then we paddle in a canoe.’

‘Heavenly – I can’t wait.’ Fliss was determined to enjoy herself; she didn’t want to give Théo any cause for criticism. She’d hardly spoken to him since last night; she certainly hadn’t mentioned his kindness to Macey Roux. Instead, she’d met his eyes briefly as they left the house and muttered, ‘Bonjour.’ He’d grunted something inaudible and leaped into the front passenger seat of Manu’s car without another word. Fliss wanted to show she was a better person than he thought; she pushed her feet into the shoes and eased herself out of the car, tottering over to the small group and throwing out her arms.

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