The bell over the door rings.
‘J’arrive!’ I call happily and hurry into the shop, where I stop, suddenly feeling cold.
Chapter 39
‘So,’ Claude says, walking around the shop, as if inspecting it for signs of dust or things out of place, ‘you have decided to take on one of the biggest baking families around here,’ he says scornfully, ‘with your pathetic little bakery van.’
‘I know it was you who left the baguette, Claude.’ My heart is thundering. ‘You might have scared others off, but it won’t work with me. The villagers like having aboulangerieback.’
‘They might tell you that, but they won’t change from my bread. They might like to try what’s on offer, but it won’t be better than they’re used to.’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘In fact, it’s probably quite a let-down,’ he says, in a loaded way.
I pull myself up tall. ‘Our bread is far superior to yours. People are letting you know that. They are buying our bread. It is made with quality ingredients, not cheap ones to give the biggest profit. This is proper artisan bread. There is a place for theboulangeriein the village and for the van in villages where theboulangerieshave gone. They like having the van arriving rather than queuing at a soulless vending machine.’
‘For now. But,’ he shrugs, ‘who will take it on when you have to leave? No one wants to.’
For a moment I’m not so sure-footed.
He walks through the shop and I feel as if he’s infecting its gloriously warm welcoming ambience with his insidious, poisonous air.
He is by the end of the old wooden counter now, by the old-fashioned till. He leans on the return of the counter. ‘I’m here totell you there isn’t room for both of us and you will be leaving. I’m not sure if you play by different rules back home, but here in France, if you steal something from someone, you have to pay them back. You are stealing my customers. And so you will have to pay.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
He presses down on the till button and the drawer pings open. ‘Why don’t we start with today’s takings? Looks like it’s been a good day!’
‘No, you can’t. I need that money!’
He holds his leather satchel open, looks at me and starts to fill it with coins and notes. ‘It’s money you took from me.’
‘I didn’t take your money!’
‘You took custom that belonged to me. If I took all your baguettes, that would be stealing, wouldn’t it? I would owe you money. It is only right.’
I look for some way out of this, wishing Madame B will reappear.
I try to slam the till drawer shut, hoping to catch his fingers. But he grabs it and empties it.
‘Merci.’
‘It is a shame. We could have done good business together. I could have taught you a lot,’ he says, leaning in. I can smell yesterday’s garlic and wine on today’s cigarette breath, making me want to gag. I can’t move.
‘I will go to thegendarmes,’ I tell him.
‘Yes. You could, but I wouldn’t bother. I am a local businessman, and we go back a long way – they’ll never believe your word over mine. And if you were to take your chances and find out, I could always tell your new love interest that you and I shared a passionate kiss. That you wanted me, were begging me to become your lover.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘We kissed, did we not?’
I feel frozen to the spot. He’s blackmailing me. He’d tell Laurent the one thing that will hurt him most: that another member of his family has taken what they want without a care for others. I’m furious with myself.
Suddenly the door opens and the bell rings. Claude turns to see Laurent standing there.
‘Claude,’ he states, rather than asks.
‘Laurent!Bonjour,’ he says, turning away from the counter and me. I let myself breathe.
‘Were you just leaving?’
