‘Shall we?’ he says, and thrusts a handful of coins into my palm.
We start to count out the money, but as we’re nearing the endof the takings, I know it won’t be enough. ‘If I hadn’t had to give that money to Claude, we’d’ve made it.’
Madame B comes to stand beside me. ‘When someone loves you as much as you love them, don’t let them get away,’ she says quietly to me, and carries on outside into the sunshine, leaving me with Laurent.
‘It isn’t Claude or his bread or his vending machines that we all love around here. It’s you. We want you to stay. Whatever it takes.’ Laurent slides his hat from his head.‘Tout le monde,’ he says, as he steps out into the sunlight, addressing the customers.
‘No, Laurent, really, please don’t,’ I call after him.
But he takes no notice and begins in French: ‘I may not have been the most welcoming of neighbours when Juliet first arrived in our village. In fact, I was pretty confident she wasn’t going to be sticking around and even left her an unwelcome gift on the doorstep to let her know so. I was furious when the mill was sold, but I’ve come to realise it couldn’t be in better hands. Between the mill and the bakery, this village finally has its heart back.’
I look at Madame B blushing, standing next to the mayor. And I wonder if the confirmed bachelorette may be changing her mind about life outside her apartment.
‘This bakery will only carry on if we all pull together, and we need to help Juliet here to make sure that happens, for the bakery van to keep doing its rounds … unless you’d rather go back to a vending machine for your daily bread.’
‘Non, non!’ I hear.
‘There is a story about an old man who had nothing. He put on a pan of water to cook over an open fire and put a stone into it. A neighbour passed and asked what he was cooking, and he said it was stone soup. The neighbour was intrigued, and offered to bring some vegetables to add to it. Another neighbour passed and also offered a contribution. And so it went on, until there was a delicious pot of soup for everyone to share, at whichpoint the old man took out the stone. Stone soup is about the community.’
He reaches into his top pocket, pulls out a euro and drops it into the hat. And then the hat is being passed around, and as well as can the coins being dropped in, I see notes too.
Laurent smiles at me. ‘One euro can get you out of a lot of trouble.’
‘Or into it,’ I say, and giggle.
The hat comes round again and is handed back to Laurent. ‘I’m pretty sure that will cover what went to Claude.’
‘Wait. I haven’t put mine in. How much do you need?’ says the mayor, raising a hand.
Laurent proffers the hat.
Mayor Bertrand puts in a euro. ‘And if you need any more, I have a jar of lucky euros for just this kind of moment.’ He beams. ‘We all want you to stay, Juliet, if you will,’ he says.
I look at Laurent. ‘Say yes,’ he says. ‘Sayoui!’
‘And if you want to turn the mill into asalon de thé, you have my permission,’ calls the mayor.
‘I think,’ I say, ‘I’m happy being a baker’s assistant and driving my van.’
‘If you’re looking for another baker’s assistant,’ Vivianne, Claude’s wife, steps forward, ‘I know my way around aboulangerie.’
‘That would be marvellous,’ I tell her.
‘And, erm … I was wondering how you’d feel about expanding into coffee and hot chocolate?’ asks Laurent.
‘But thetabac?’
‘Better that we work as a team. I could make sandwiches for customers here too.’
‘Excellent idea,’ I say.
He leans in. ‘May I?’
‘Forget the etiquette, just kiss me.’ And he does.
Suddenly there is a loud bang. It’s Monsieur Martin, in his electric car, reversing and hitting the vending machine.
‘Looks like we’ll all need to get our bread from somewhere else,’ says Laurent.
