The Sacrifice Stone Read Online Free Page A

was too, but it hadn’t stopped her doing the unpacking. ‘We need to go shopping.’
    ‘Money’s in my wallet.’
    ‘I’ve got money! I just wondered if you wanted to come too.’
    He opened his eyes and gave her a winning smile. ‘Not much. Can’t you go?’
    ‘I suppose so, if I can find the shops.’
    He muttered, ‘Great girl, my sister.’
    ‘But do get up, Joe! While I’m out, you could see to your books and things — I’ve brought the box in, but I just dumped it in the hall, and we’ll keep falling over it.’
    ‘Yes, fine. I’ll do it.’ He turned his back and pulled the sheet up over his head.
    ‘Okay, then. See you later.’
    He grunted a reply.
    *
    She took the map with her, and asked the first passer-by to show her the way to les magasins . The passer-by — an elderly man full of Gallic charm — took her by the arm and walked her the few hundred yards to a small supermarket, bowing in farewell and wishing her bonne journ é e .
    She spent some time wandering up and down the aisles, filling her trolley with bread, cheese, pate, eggs, tins of cassoulet, and the odd necessity such as washing powder, a couple of anti-mosquito gadgets and a pack of tablets to burn in them. Then, coming to the drinks section, she had to move everything to one end of the trolley to make room for wine, beers and a bottle of pastis.
    Packing the lot into five incredibly heavy plastic bags, she wished she hadn’t been so profligate. Or, a better alternative, that she’d made Joe go with her.
    By the time she had struggled back to La Maison Jaune, she was wishing it even more fervently. Pushing the door open, she called out, ‘Joe? Can you come and give me a hand, I’m —’ and fell over the box of books.
    He was still asleep when she burst into his room, but not for long. ‘You lazy bugger!’ she said furiously. ‘You said you’d move that bloody box!’
    ‘I will, I will,’ he muttered.
    ‘It’s too late! I’ve just fallen over it, carrying all the shopping!’
    ‘Oh, dear.’ He sat up, rubbing his eyes. ‘Anything broken?’
    ‘No,’ she admitted.
    ‘That’s all right, then.’
    ‘Look at my knee!’ She bent her leg and pushed her knee under his nose. ‘It’ll be swollen as hell later!’
    ‘Beth, your language!’ he said mildly.
    She’d had enough.
    Moving away from his tousled bed, she stood in the doorway. ‘I’m going out,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ve done my share of work for today. You can unpack your books and put the shopping away while I’m out.’
    ‘What about lunch?’
    She glared at him.
    ‘There’s plenty of food in the five bags spilling their contents all over the hall.’ She hesitated, knowing he really didn’t like swearing, but decided that at that moment she didn’t care. ‘Get your own sodding lunch.’
    *
    Outside in the square, she realized she’d forgotten the map. Since going back inside when she’d just stormed out would undoubtedly undermine the grand gesture, she decided she’d manage without it. If I get lost, she fumed, it’ll just serve him right.
    She didn’t bother to work out the logic of that.
    She turned left, and marched off parallel to the wall. I’m inside it here, she thought, if I go and look down — she went over and climbed up on to a step in the wall that made a viewpoint — I’ll see that road we turned off last night.
    There it was, just below her.
    So the old town must be behind me. I wonder if these ramparts go all the way round?
    Ramparts, redoubts. Suddenly she realized what had evaded her the previous evening: Place de la Redoute must be Redoubt Square, and a redoubt, of course, was a fortification.
    If I’d remembered that at the time, I’d have known the house was in the old town.
    She wandered on, seeing few people, only an occasional car pushing past her in the narrow street. Up to her left, she spotted what looked like the rear of a church; in the absence of any better plan, she thought she might make her way