A French Pirouette Read Online Free

her happy new year. It wasn’t too late to do that the second week in January. French people wished each other
bonne année
all through the month.
    At the same time she’d ask Brigitte about going to stay with them later in the year. Book the gîte next to the auberge for a fortnight’s holiday for her and Chloe. When should they go? Oh, June. June was always a lovely month in Brittany. It would be something to finally look forward to.
    Libby crossed to the phone. Why wait until this evening? Having made the decision she wanted to get it organised. She’d phone now.
    The phone rang and rang. Libby pictured the noise ringing around the large old-fashioned auberge kitchen where Brigitte spent most of her day preparing delicious meals. In the off season even though there were few guests staying the locals continued to use the restaurant, especially at weekends.
    Libby was about to hang up thinking Brigitte was too busy to answer when a quiet voice in her ear said. “
Bonjour. Qui?
”
    “Brigitte. It’s Libby here. A bit late I know, but
bonne année. Comment allez vous?
”
    A slight pause. “
Ça va, merci, Libby. Bonne année a vous aussi.
”
    Libby, sensing something wasn’t right said, “Brigitte, what is wrong?”
    “Bruno. He has broken the arm.”
    “The arm? Oh you mean his arm! Oh poor Bruno. Which one? Not his right one?”
    “No, the wrong one.”
    Libby struggled not to laugh at Brigitte’s misunderstanding. “His left arm then?
Gauche?
”
    “
Oui.
And he drives me mad with his demands. All day he is wanting me to help him. I have people to dinner this evening and he wants me to help him in the garden.”
    “How did he break it?”
    “He fell off the ladder helping me decorate one of the
chambres
. So
naturellement
he blames me!” Brigitte said sighing. “And you? How are you?”
    “Chloe and I are fine, thank you. Thinking of coming for a holiday this year if you have room for us?”
    “Always, Libby, but there is
un petit
problem,” Brigitte said. “The Auberge du Canal will be up for sale soon. Bruno’s accident made him cross so now he decides to sell. We go to live in his mother’s old house in the village.”
    Libby remembered visiting the imposing
maison de maître
in the middle of the village with Brigitte. With its wrought-iron railings and large double gates separating it from the main village street, the tall detached house had clearly been built by someone of importance in an earlier age.
    “You are welcome to stay with us there, Libby, if we have moved. It has enough rooms. When is it you wish to come?”
    “June?”
    “A good month. Let me know the dates later. Now, I have to go. Bruno is yelling for me.”
    “OK. I’ll phone you again. Bye.”
    Libby replaced the receiver and moved across to the table. It would be strange going to Brittany without Dan. She picked up the photograph of a smiling Dan sitting under the loggia again. Tomorrow she’d buy a frame for this one and place it on her bedside table. It would remind her of happier times and help her believe she would have a future again.
    When Chloe got back home later she’d talk to her too about an idea that had jumped into her mind as she talked with Brigitte. A crazy idea. An impossible idea. Wasn’t it?
    After supper that evening Chloe picked up the photographs Libby had left on the table and flicked through them. “Dad was so happy on that holiday,” she said.
    “He was,” Libby agreed. “He adored the process of visiting
immobiliers
and looking at property. I know he felt his dream seemed to be finally coming within his grasp.”
    They were both silent for several seconds before Libby spoke. “I rang Brigitte earlier. I wondered if we might go for a holiday in June—before you go off to college.”
    “That would be great, Mum.”
    “You’d like to go again? Sure to bring up lots of memories,” Libby said.
    “But they’d be good ones,” Chloe said quietly. “Sad but good.”
    “Probably our