Chapter 16
Johnny wasn’t renowned for being prone to fits of spontaneity, so he’d already shocked himself when he’d invited Fran on the sightseeing trip in the first place. Now on their way back, he’d done it again, and was equally surprised when Fran said she was in no rush to return to the hotel, and he took the turning off the main road and began to weave down the side road towards the dilapidated chateau.
When it came into view around a bend and Johnny signalled to pull off the road past the for-sale sign, Fran gave him a sideways glance.
‘A bit different to the Chateau d’Ussé,’ she said.
‘The poor man’s equivalent, I guess,’ Johnny replied.
‘No – it’s beautiful, or rather it could be. I was thinking more about its current state. Someone’s going to have to do a shed-load of work on this place.’
Avoiding a fallen stone planter, cracked and splayed across the driveway with its long-dead foliage spewed onto what was left of the gravel, Johnny pulled the car up as close to the building as he could. From his previous visit, he knew the turning circle was tight in the Mercedes, could still see where he’d shoved at some thorny bushes with the front bumper as he’d had to make enough space to shunt his way around. There was plenty of grass beyond the current driveway, though, it would be easy enough to extend out as necessary.
Johnny frowned as he killed the engine and climbed out. What was he doing, having ideas about how to renovate the place? He might not be totally sure why he’d made the sudden decision tobring Fran here, but he was acting like he was showing someone his new home, rather than … rather than what, exactly?
Fran seemed to be in tune with his messy thoughts as she too climbed from the car.
‘Why have you brought us here?’ she asked, glancing around.
‘I saw it the other day when we were on our way to a local wine producer, and I just loved the look of the place. Thought you might be interested in taking a look, with your eye for restoring things.’
‘Yeah, but that’s bits of vintage furniture, not entire buildings.’ Fran sounded mystified, but she was smiling, and her gaze raked the front of the chateau. ‘God, this place must have been sensational in its prime.’
Johnny smiled. ‘You wait until you see the rest of it.’
Fran turned. ‘I thought you meant you’d just caught sight of it when you were driving past.’
‘I did. Then I stopped in on my way back. Took myself on a bit of a tour.’
‘So, nobody’s living here?’
It was a good point. Johnny had assumed from the utter lack of maintenance that the place was deserted. His cheeks coloured as he had to admit to Fran he didn’t know. ‘I kind of assumed it was empty, to be honest.’
‘Do you think we should call the estate agent and check it’s OK to look, before we get any nosier?’
Leaving Fran admiring the front façade, Johnny walked back up the driveway to take note of the number on the board. He punched it into his phone and had completed a brief conversation with the agent by the time he rejoined Fran.
‘It’s called Chateau des Rêves, and the guy I’ve just spoken to said we can poke about around the grounds all we like. It’s beenempty for a while and he seemed very keen to organise a proper viewing to show us the inside.’
‘Probably desperate to get it off his books,’ Fran said, frowning as she moved closer to the building.
‘Yeah. Probably.’
‘Oh, look at these steps,’ Fran said, tugging at dried-up foliage which had cascaded over the stone balustrade on one side of the granite staircase leading to the main doors. ‘Look at this carving.’
Johnny stood a couple of steps below Fran, faces level as they studied the careful work of a long-forgotten stonemason. Weathering might have taken away some of the crispness of the design, but somehow that made it even more appealing, to Johnny at least. And the fact Fran seemed equally interested in something as niche as this staircase was doing something strange to Johnny’s stomach.
Before he could say anything, Fran was gone, dodging debris littering the stairs as she headed up to the front of the building. Cupping her hands to the glass, and with her sunglasses shoved haphazardly onto the crown of her head, Fran peered through the small glass panels of the double front doors. Johnny had done the same when he’d visited before, having to stoop in order to look through the clear panels of the stained-glass panel design. In contrast, Fran was on tiptoes, nose against the aged glass.
‘Have you seen this entrance hall?’ Swivelling to look at him, Fran’s grin of enthusiasm was catching, Johnny smiling back as he took the rest of the steps and joined her.
‘I couldn’t see how far up it goes, but it’s at least two storeys high, don’t you think?’ he said.
‘At least.’
Fran was gone again, threading her way around the side of the building, peering through windows as she went. Johnny caught up with her towards the back of the chateau, her hands cupped on either side of her face again as she peered through the glass in a smaller, far more utilitarian door.
‘That’s a scullery or something, by the looks of it,’ Johnny said. It wasn’t that he’d mapped the whole of the ground floor in his mind on his previous visit, but he’d established a decent idea of where everything was.
