‘I was on the way to Switzerland when I stopped off in Paris and decided to get a job and this is it!’ Alexandra wondered if she should add that she’d thought the job was in Paris, but didn’t. ‘As you know, it’s only for a month, while your nanny is looking after her mother.’
‘What were you going to do in Switzerland?’ asked Félicité.
‘Stay with my relations, go to a finishing school, something like that.’
‘But why would you go to a finishing school?’ asked Félicité, who appeared to know what one was.
‘That’s what I thought,’ Alexandra said. ‘Why? Which is why I chose to have a job instead.’
‘Although you’ve never been a nanny before.’
‘To be honest, I didn’t know the job was for a nanny. I just knew I had to cook, drive, speak French—’ Too late she remembered she’d been keeping the fact that she could speak French to herself. ‘A bit, I can speak French a little. And I thought, what better way to improve my French than having a job?’
‘Why did you think you could be a nanny when you hadn’t ever been one before?’
It was a fair question. ‘I reckoned I’d had lots of nannies and I could just do what they did, more or less. Although none of mine could drive or cook or speak French. Except one who taught me’ – she caught herself again – ‘a bit of French because she was French. She took me to Paris. I loved it.’ She hadn’t loved the fact that her nanny had spent a lot of time ignoring Alexandra and making love to her boyfriend, but she had got used to it and explored Paris on her own. ‘So, is there a market in the town?’
‘It’s today,’ said Félicité.
‘I’m going to get up now,’ said Alexandra.
‘I’ll see you downstairs,’ said Félicité.
Watching her and Stéphie leave the room, Alexandra felt she’d made a little headway with Félicité. Which was good. Félicité was intelligent and knew the house and the area – she’d be a good person to have on her side.
Down in the kitchen, Alexandra lit the fire in the range before she did anything else. It was a beautiful, golden day outside but there was mist about and a chill in the air. The kitchen was cold too, although there was a basket of eggs on the table, with some long narrow baguettes and a round, brown country loaf. There was also a large pat of butter wrapped in paper, and some cheese. Some helpful person had indeed been to the boulangerie for them.
Henri had brought in more logs and sticks and was looking at the food in a hungry way. ‘Can I have some bread and butter?’ he asked. ‘Bruno doesn’t usually bring bread. It must be because you’re new.’
‘How do you get it usually?’
‘You can walk over the fields to the village. I go sometimes. Or someone drives.’
‘Then of course you can eat it!’ said Alexandra.
There was an exchange of looks among the children which told Alexandra they had been expecting her to say no.
‘I’ll cook some eggs. What about French toast? That’s my favourite.’
‘What’s French toast?’ asked Stéphie. ‘I want boiled eggs.’
‘You can have boiled eggs if you want but French toast is nice. Is there any jam?’
‘Greengage jam, from last year,’ said Félicité.
‘I’ll get it,’ said Henri.
‘I must learn where everything is,’ said Alexandra, finally content that the range would stay in at least for a bit.
Breakfast was a cheerful meal although Alexandra did find herself missing tea. She knew she’d have to get over that. She had concealed a packet of tea in with her clothes, now in Switzerland. But for a month she’d have to drink coffee, hot chocolate or the tisanes she generally found to be disgusting.
‘Now I think we should go to the market and hope they sell something I can wear,’ said Alexandra.
‘How will we get there?’ asked Stéphie.
‘We’ll go in the car,’ said Alexandra. ‘I wonder where it is?’ She looked at Henri, hoping his helpful nature would lead him to tell her. It did.
‘It’s in the barn,’ he said. ‘Shall I get it out for you?’
