The Letter by Emma Sharp

Author:Emma Sharp [Sharp, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-26T22:00:00+00:00

23

The following morning is Sunday. No shops open today. I suggest we go and visit Alice who is extremely pleased to see us. Xavier is not around, but Gus tells us of a fantastic gorge, only half an hour away, that has waterfalls, rapids and gentle pools to play in. I ask Alice if Gus would be allowed to come with us, she nods her head emphatically. I wish we could take Alice with us, but Gus tells me that the terrain isn't suitable for a wheelchair. We need to think of somewhere to visit with her next time.

The gorge is truly is magnificent. It’s just as Gus described, and we have a fantastic afternoon, swimming and sunbathing. Gus is thrilled to find a couple of his school friends there with their families. It's lovely watching him enjoying the day as a child should, instead of being a carer. Soon the shadows lengthen, and we make our way back for supper. We help Alice wash before leaving them for the evening.

Sitting outside in the rear courtyard drinking cold beer is a pleasant way to spend the rest of the evening. Jenny can only stay for a week, so we must make the most of it. She suggests we go to the coast tomorrow. A quick call to Sylvie informs me that it takes roughly over two hours to Marseilles, quite achievable.

Up and off early, we reach Marseilles by eleven. Thankfully most of the route was via the toll road, expensive but convenient. As luck would have it, we find ourselves in the old port just in time to hire an electric bike and join an organised tour. It takes us all around the city, visiting some of the less savoury areas as well as the regular tourist destinations. It is a multicultural destination. After a very long, late lunch, we flop down on the crowded beach for a much-needed rest.

Heading back to the car park I notice an estate agent or 'Agent Immobilier' as they are known here. One of the shop windows advertises that they specialise in what it calls 'exclusive properties.’ I observe that there are several Chateaus of differing sizes, none of them under a million Euros. My mind goes back to the letter I received, offering me only half of that for my Chateau - and its contents! I need to have it valued, I think. I tell Jenny, and she agrees. So, looking like a pair of teenage tourists, we enter the shop.

"Bonjour Mademoiselle, Puis-Je vous aider?" The smartly suited, middle-aged man asks.

"Parlez vous Anglaise?" I respond.

"But of course. I am Raymond, how can I assist you?" He asks in perfect English.

“I would like my property valuing,” I say.

He asks for the address and enters it into his computer, then looks back at me with unbelieving eyes. "Are you sure?" He asks, clearly not taking me seriously.

"Yes, definitely," I say, then take out the huge, old key, that weighs a tonne. “My key,” I continue, dangling the key in my hand.

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