Jeremy and thanked her for arranging the conference so well. She put the note on the table before stripping off her tee-shirt and going into the bathroom to shower.
_________________________
At the same time that Eloise was enjoying a leisurely shower, Jacques drove from Port Grimaud to Sainte Pierre des Maures with his usual total disregard for his own safety and that of any other driver who happened to be on the road at the same time although, on this occasion, there was some justification for it. When he arrived, Yvonne answered his knock at the door of the gallery and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, standing on the tips of her toes to reach him.
“Bonjour, Jacques.”
“Is everything ready?” Jacques asked, following her up the stairs to the apartment above the gallery.
“But of course,” she replied, “Didn’t I say it would be? What’s the time?”
Jacques looked at his watch. “Nine-thirty,” he said. “We’re going to be late.”
“Then we’d better get going.”
As they drove back to Port Grimaud, the rear seat of the car was piled high with that part of the buffet lunch which would not fit in the boot. Jacques again drove dangerously fast and Yvonne cursed him when he drove over a pot-hole in the road, forcing her to put her hand out behind her to steady the boxes containing the carefully prepared food.
When they reached the seaward entrance to Port Grimaud, Jacques waited impatiently for the guard to raise the barrier which prevents unauthorised cars from entering the narrow streets of the town. The sun was beating down on the car and he was hot and sticky; the back of his shirt was wet with sweat. As soon as the barrier was up, Jacques shot through the archway into the Place des Six Canons, along the Rue Grande past the hotel and across the helipad at the Capitainerie. He screeched to a halt behind the Esprit and leapt out to run onto the boat and open the sliding door. Then he helped Yvonne unload the buffet which was no longer quite so tidily laid out in the boxes. When they had finished, the Capitaine, who was the person responsible for the smooth running of the port, was standing beside the car.
“Vous ne pouvez pas le laisser ici, vous savez?” he barked at Jacques.
“Oui, oui, deux minutes!” shouted Jacques in response before calling over his shoulder, “Yvonne, Adolf says you must move the car.”
Yvonne threw up her hands in despair, jumped into the little Peugeot and drove away from the boats, back along the Rue Grande, across the Place des Six Canons, and out through the archway.
Five minutes later she returned, having put the car in the car park and sprinted all the way back. She was holding her sandals in her hands as she ran and every now and then she hopped along on one foot as she brushed a sharp piece of grit from one of her feet. Jacques laughed loudly at her from the fly bridge of the Esprit. He had already started the boat’s engines and raised the anchor and was ready to move off once Yvonne had untied the stern mooring warps. This she did as soon as she reached the Esprit, even though she was still puffing and panting from the run.
As the Esprit emerged from Port Grimaud into the bay, Yvonne climbed the steps and joined Jacques on the fly bridge.
_________________________
Fifteen minutes later, when the Esprit arrived in the harbour at Sainte Maxime, Eloise, with Jeremy and Anna on either side of her, was waiting at the quayside. Although Jacques was only a few minutes late, Anna was tapping her foot impatiently as she watched the boat approach slowly and then turn away from them before dropping anchor and reversing into the berth. Yvonne, already quite accomplished in her duties as a member of the crew despite only having had a few days’ practice, had dropped the boat’s fenders over the sides and the stern and was standing with her bare feet braced apart waiting for
_________________________
At the same time that Eloise was enjoying a leisurely shower, Jacques drove from Port Grimaud to Sainte Pierre des Maures with his usual total disregard for his own safety and that of any other driver who happened to be on the road at the same time although, on this occasion, there was some justification for it. When he arrived, Yvonne answered his knock at the door of the gallery and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, standing on the tips of her toes to reach him.
“Bonjour, Jacques.”
“Is everything ready?” Jacques asked, following her up the stairs to the apartment above the gallery.
“But of course,” she replied, “Didn’t I say it would be? What’s the time?”
Jacques looked at his watch. “Nine-thirty,” he said. “We’re going to be late.”
“Then we’d better get going.”
As they drove back to Port Grimaud, the rear seat of the car was piled high with that part of the buffet lunch which would not fit in the boot. Jacques again drove dangerously fast and Yvonne cursed him when he drove over a pot-hole in the road, forcing her to put her hand out behind her to steady the boxes containing the carefully prepared food.
When they reached the seaward entrance to Port Grimaud, Jacques waited impatiently for the guard to raise the barrier which prevents unauthorised cars from entering the narrow streets of the town. The sun was beating down on the car and he was hot and sticky; the back of his shirt was wet with sweat. As soon as the barrier was up, Jacques shot through the archway into the Place des Six Canons, along the Rue Grande past the hotel and across the helipad at the Capitainerie. He screeched to a halt behind the Esprit and leapt out to run onto the boat and open the sliding door. Then he helped Yvonne unload the buffet which was no longer quite so tidily laid out in the boxes. When they had finished, the Capitaine, who was the person responsible for the smooth running of the port, was standing beside the car.
“Vous ne pouvez pas le laisser ici, vous savez?” he barked at Jacques.
“Oui, oui, deux minutes!” shouted Jacques in response before calling over his shoulder, “Yvonne, Adolf says you must move the car.”
Yvonne threw up her hands in despair, jumped into the little Peugeot and drove away from the boats, back along the Rue Grande, across the Place des Six Canons, and out through the archway.
Five minutes later she returned, having put the car in the car park and sprinted all the way back. She was holding her sandals in her hands as she ran and every now and then she hopped along on one foot as she brushed a sharp piece of grit from one of her feet. Jacques laughed loudly at her from the fly bridge of the Esprit. He had already started the boat’s engines and raised the anchor and was ready to move off once Yvonne had untied the stern mooring warps. This she did as soon as she reached the Esprit, even though she was still puffing and panting from the run.
As the Esprit emerged from Port Grimaud into the bay, Yvonne climbed the steps and joined Jacques on the fly bridge.
_________________________
Fifteen minutes later, when the Esprit arrived in the harbour at Sainte Maxime, Eloise, with Jeremy and Anna on either side of her, was waiting at the quayside. Although Jacques was only a few minutes late, Anna was tapping her foot impatiently as she watched the boat approach slowly and then turn away from them before dropping anchor and reversing into the berth. Yvonne, already quite accomplished in her duties as a member of the crew despite only having had a few days’ practice, had dropped the boat’s fenders over the sides and the stern and was standing with her bare feet braced apart waiting for
Similar Books
