Chateau Moi

Chateau Moi

This is my first story ever. There's clearly plenty of scope to continue it if it meets with any enthusiasm. It's a slow build and meant to be fairly realistic; or at least plausible.

I picked Amy up from Bergerac airport at 11am local time. She'd flown in from London, a short one hour flight, but she looked shattered and I knew why. Amy, a friend of my 23 year old daughter, Lizzy, was meant to be joining us with her boyfriend for a short holiday; but Lizzy had rung me the day before to warn me that Amy had just broken up with her boyfriend so was going to be coming alone. The good news was that meant I could come and pick her up in my Alfa Romeo spider (it only has two seats); the bad news was that Lizzy also said that she and her boyfriend, Toby, were going to be a day late in arriving. It was my job to handle the Amy pieces on my own for 24 hours.

"Lovely to see you again", I said and leant forward to give her a kiss on both cheeks. We had met a few times over the past few years but hardly knew each other. The closest we had come to any intimacy was a few flirty chats on her Facebook when she had holidayed with Lizzy in Asia for six weeks.

"Thank you for coming to pick me up, Mr. Bright"

"Jay, call me Jay. I couldn't bear a week of misters."

She managed to eke out a small smile.

I took her bag and we went out into the bright sunshine. It was perfect weather, about 26 degrees with a gentle breeze.

"Let me give you some advice in case you come this way again, or indeed to any small airport like this one. If you're hiring a car, don't hire it from the rental company associated with the airline."

"Why, do they rip you off?"

"No, its not that, it's a fairly transparent market so prices are kept reasonably honest. No, the reason is... look" And I pointed to the car rental area which we were passing on the way to the car park. There were four portacabins each with a different version of rent-a-car logos stuck on them. Out of one snaked a lengthy queue; the other three were empty.

"Guess which one is associated with the airline you just flew in on?"

"I'll remember that. For when I've passed my driving test and can afford to rent a car. Probably in about a hundred years' time." And the small smile, which the sun had prompted, disappeared from her face.

"Oh dear! We are in a bad way. Nothing that a week in the sun, staying at Chateau Moi, won't cure. Here we are." And I stopped next to my beautiful Alfa.

"Wow, is that yours, Jay?"

"Certainly is and I can't tell you how much pleasure it gives me. Jump in."

We were soon out on the open road, driving through this particularly beautiful part of France. It rains more here than on the Cote d'Azur, further east, so consequently everything is that much greener and healthier. I love the sun and warmth but if you're actually living somewhere rather than just on holiday its good to have some variation and rain is refreshing as long as it clears quickly.

"It's about forty minutes."

"Tell me about your chateau, Lizzy's never really explained it properly."

"I'm glad you asked because I couldn't have resisted telling you all about it anyway. I can be quite a bore when it comes to my little project."

And I gave her the full story - well not quite full story because I can talk for hours and hours about it.

I had always wanted to own a chateau from when I first went to France with my parents as a little boy. I used to spend hours on the internet looking at property for sale but although I am a bit of a dreamer I am at heart a practical and cautious man. My wife wasn't too keen on the idea - where I saw grandeur and fantasy and beauty, she saw mice and dirt and cost - and, frankly, when you have only a few weeks holiday a year it is pretty pointless owning another house in another country. I retired a couple of years ago from my job in the City, I had made a reasonable amount of money, I wasn't rich compared with many of my friends but we were comfortable enough for me to stop the 5.30am commute and concentrate on writing a book I had planned in my mind for years. A simple manual about managing money, aimed squarely at teenagers and young adults. It wasn't hard to find a publisher - they all said how they would buy a copy for their child/godchild/grandchild. And that's how it took off - it wasn't bought by the people it was aimed at, it was bought for them. I don't suppose a fraction of them were actually read but it made me a tidy sum and still does.

The downside of me being at home writing the book was it put a bit of a strain on the relationship with my wife: not used to having somebody around she felt cramped on spied on. The solution was simple - using the money from the book I would pursue my chateau dream while she stayed in England. I didn't intend to stay there in the winter but from March to October I would be out of her hair and she could come down and visit whenever, or if, she felt like it. She took a bit of persuading but as the money from the book flowed in she found it harder to object.

It was the best thing I could have done. She liked to be in the thick of things and I loved being cut off. We stopped getting on each other's nerves because we simply weren't there to do so.

You see, here I am wittering on and I haven't told you anything about the actual chateau. All those years of dreaming paid off though. I had a pretty clear idea of what I wanted (and what I didn't want) and what was available. It only took two months to find (plus forty years) and another month to settle the deal and I had precisely what I was looking for. Indeed it was better than I hoped. I didn't have to start from scratch as the man I bought from had already done a lot of the boring (and expensive) work on the roof and walls leaving me to do the fun bits.

The chateau had to look right - that was the most important criterion. This was after all a fantasy and what would be the point if it didn't look the part. But it also had to be manageable and it had to have another building for me to live in. It was not my plan to live in the chateau, or at least not fulltime. I wanted to rent the fantasy out - partly to defer some of the cost but also because I just wanted other people to enjoy my dream - and so I needed somewhere else to live on site but not in the way. Chateau moi - as I jokingly called it - filled all these factors perfectly.

There are two round towers at either end of the façade which has four big sash windows either side of the central door. There are two main floors, a raised ground floor, and the principal bedroom floor above. It's only one room and a corridor deep. Below is the basement which was perfect for my purposes; and above was one enormous attic room yet to be converted (and probably never will be). Remember this is not a hotel or B&B but a house for rent, so the kitchen which would have been hidden in the basement in its original layout is now on the ground floor with two sash windows looking onto the park. There's so much more to tell but we've just arrived.

I turned into the drive and pulled up outside the barn like building.

"Here we are"

"Oh, I thought it would be bigger and grander than this."

"It is, it's at the end of the drive, but for the moment this is where I live and where lunch is. Leave your things in the car and we'll take them up after lunch."

I have converted the barn very simply - it will be where I live when the Chateau is rented. Essentially the barn is split into two, with most of it one giant room and at one end there is a mezzanine, with a bedroom and bathroom on top and a kitchen down below. There is no wall: the kitchen opens out on to the main room and upstairs there is a curtain that can be drawn across the width of the barn but I never bother with it while I'm there on my own.

The barn feels a bit gloomy when you first enter but your eyes soon become accustomed and it is cool. Amy was noticeably taken aback when she entered. It's very modern inside with some cool furniture and art on the walls. The kitchen is sleek stainless steel and the contrast with the external, slightly tumbled own rustic appearance is stark. She shivered a bit with the cold.

"Wow! So cool"

"Literally"

She smiled. She was wearing a fetching top, tied in a knot beneath her boobs. And now I realise I've spent more time describing the buildings than the girl. She is very pretty but the difference between scowling and smiling sends her from a 7 to firm 10. She's not skinny but there's not an ounce of fat on her. She's an actress rather than an athlete. And a very fetching one.

"Do you like truffles?"

"I'm not sure I've ever tried any".

"Well they have a sort of musky, fungi aroma and are very much a specialty of the region. They make some lovely honey with truffles which I put in my dressing - it really adds a certain je ne sais quoi". I said the common French phrase with a bit of an accent, entirely subconsciously. She looked at me and melted just a fraction.

"Do speak French, Mr. Bright, I mean Jay?"

"Badly. I seem to be better at accents than grammar and vocabulary. It seems to make the locals laugh though. How about you?"

"It makes me laugh too!"

"Well I'm delighted but I meant do you speak French?"

"Badly too but my accent is truly terrible"

"Let me hear"

"No" and suddenly she was a shy little girl.

"I'll get something out of you before the week is up"

"Oh no you won't. I'm not saying a word"

"Quel dommage"

While this bit of banter was carrying on, I had taken the lunch out of the fridge. Just some simple saucisson and cheese and a mixed green salad, with the truffle infused dressing. Some baguette, of course, and I opened a bottle of local rose.

"Glass of rose?"

"No thanks, I don't drink at lunchtime"

"Nor do I" and I poured two glasses. "That's in case you change your mind and you won't have to ask"

We sat down to our little feast - this really is my favourite sort of meal: simple fresh, local, tasty, informal.

"Are you interested in food, Amy?"

" I adore food. Rather too much I'm afraid" and she pinched her waist where the non-existent rolls were. "But not like your family, Jay. When I first met Lizzy at Uni she was cooking all sorts of things while the rest of us were just eating pizza. She's gradually got me more and more interested and tells me that you are the cook at home."

"Yes. I adore food and cooking. My mother was an exceptional cook as was granny. But here there is little need to cook, just assemble the delicious ingredients."

"But this dressing is so delicious; I've never tasted anything like it"

"Couldn't be simpler"

"I'm sure I could muck it up"

"The secret to good cooking, other than basic technique, is tasting. You need to be tasting all the way along. Most home cooks don't use nearly enough seasoning. It makes all the difference. And that's as true of French dressing as anything else."

"Is it true that truffles are an aphrodisiac?"

"Definitely. The black truffle season is December to March and round here the babies all arrive in September to December."

She laughed. I topped up her rose which she'd started drinking absent mindedly. The conversation flowed. We talked mostly about France and food and the strange habits of the locals.

"You seem very happy here, Jay"

"Yes, I guess I am. The food, the climate and my little project up the drive."

"Don't you miss your wife?"

"What has Lizzy told you?"

"Er, nothing."

"Oh" I hesitated. "Well we've never been explicit to the children but my wife and I have basically separated. We still get on; in fact we get on better than ever now we don't live together. I'm not sure whether we will ever formalize our new relationship but it works for now."

"Don't you get lonely?"

"Well, to tell the truth I was more lonely when I was living with my wife. Our relationship gradually dried up and we hardly spoke. And she was never a very physical person. Once we had the children she really lost interest. And I like the physical side of things. And now I've said too much." I got up and started clearing the table.

"Not at all. Lizzy worries that you are lonely out here and is always plotting for ways to hook you up."

"Really? I had no idea she even had a clue."

"Oh come on, it's pretty obvious when you basically live hundreds of miles apart most of the year. Children aren't blind you know."

"I guess so. I'd never really thought of it like that. Typical man I guess."

"So do you have anybody local?"

"I'm not sure I should answer that. But no, the truth is that my French is not good enough to seduce anybody. Frankly, my English wasn't very good at it either."

She laughed again.

"I would have thought you had plenty to choose from; a good looking man like you. There must be plenty of ex-pats out here bored and desperate for some adventure."

"I tend to avoid the expats. Not for any real reason other than I wanted to improve my French. Perhaps I should start sniffing some out. Like a truffle pig."

I topped up her rose and emptied the rest of the bottle into my glass.

"I'm not sure how it's come to this; I thought we'd be trying to sort out your relationship status. Not mine!"

"Oh, typical man, have you got some wise words for me?" She was smiling. The wine, the food, the conversation, she was relaxed and enjoying herself. Her man troubles temporarily forgotten.

"Touché. Well, at your age, I fall back on my granny's wise words: plenty more fish in the sea. Or, as the French say: un de perdu, dix de retrouvé."

"Well I'm better off without him."

"Absolutement"

"Your accent is so good. I love hearing French. I can't speak it but I find it so sexy." And she blushed slightly.

"In vino veritas"

"Oh god, but I hate Latin."

"Yes, me too. Couldn't stand it. I'll keep my obiter dicta to myself".

She got up from the table and came to see if she could help with the tidying up. Her mood had lightened, her smiles were more frequent. And she looked edible.

"No, need it's all done. Would you like some coffee? Some more vino? A rest?"

"No more wine thanks. I think I'd like to laze in the sun for a bit. I'm a bit worn out."

"No problem. I'll drive you up to the chateau propre, show you your room, you can change into... into... whatever it is young people where these days you wear to appreciate our gorgeous Gironde sun. And then where the pool is, which is where the best place to catch some rays is."

I had temporarily lost my cool. Unbidden, the image of Amy changing into a slinky costume had hijacked my brain and thrown me. I don't know if she noticed. Well of course she noticed. I just hope she didn't think the worse of me for it. And why was I coming over all fuddy duddy - whatever young people wear! - that is such an uncool look. And it was going so well.

She ignored my crassness.

"Great, let's go."

We drove the two hundred yards up the drive. It curled right round some trees and the chateau in all its glory was revealed.

"Voilà"

"Wow, it's just like a fairy tale castle"

"I'm glad you think so. I think the faintest pink tinge helps. And it is quite small for a fairy tale castle. But I did want that sense of magic about it. It is after all my fantasy chateau."

I stopped at the bottom of the steps leading up to the front door. I loved that feeling: parking at the bottom of the steps to my chateau. I would pay good money for that. Well, I do. It's not a cheap place to maintain but it gives me pleasure, daily. Just like the Alfa only on a rather larger scale. The daily pleasure I was missing was in my empty bed.

I carried Amy's bag up the stairs, unlocked the double glass doors - there was no point thinking of physical security with a property like this. You'd have to turn it into a fortress and then you would have destroyed its whole point. I had a sophisticated burglar alarm and a series of cameras. But the bottom line was that there really wasn't anything to steal in the chateau: I was intending to rent it out and you don't put precious things in a rental property. Everything was just like a stage set: it looked good on the surface but underneath it was just plywood or plastic or just old and out of fashion. I'd bought a load of furniture on auction sites all over Europe. Old furniture was deeply out of favour and could be acquired for a song. I like to think I have reasonable taste and was basically very pleased with the way it all came together. One of the things about the chateau was that the rooms were very big and there seemed to be a lot of furniture for sale that was simply too big for most modern properties.

"Wow, again." Amy was looking up at the double height hall. It was spectacular. There was a curved stone staircase that started at the right an curled up and along the back wall and round to the back left. A wide corridor ran along the whole of the back, with the bedrooms all off it lining the front of the chateau. There were some large windows in the hall and it was flooded with light.

"I'm glad you like it."

"It's amazing"

"Horribly cold in winter though. So essentially I will just shut up shop here and move into the barn. Or at least that's the plan. I'll show you your room, so you can catch the sun before it goes."

We climbed up the stairs and turned right at the top.

"There are eight bedrooms in all. They're all the same dimensions and they all look out over the park. Only two are finished. Here's yours."

I opened the door and went in and put her case on the four poster bed.

"Wow, wow, wow."

It was a great room. High ceiling, very grand looking four poster with a tester at least eight foot tall. Covered in ornate red silk. There were some lovely Persian rugs on the wooden floor a couple of well upholstered tub chairs, a floor length mirror. And some more grand curtains. It had cost me about £10,000 in total and I think it looked a million dollars. It turned out to have already paid a dividend. Amy turned to me, threw her arms around my neck and planted a kiss smack on my lips.

"Thank you, Jay. It's just perfect. I've never stayed anywhere so gorgeous. I feel like a princess."

I blushed.

"You are more than welcome, Amy. Now hurry and get changed and I'll take you to the pool."

She looked around and some disappointment fell across her face.

"Is there a bathroom?"

"Yes and no. There are two bathrooms one at each end of the corridor. Both are functioning, so you can take your pick. I'll explain all the bathing facilities later. I'll leave it to you and see you downstairs in ten minutes. There are towels down by the pool so no need to bring one."

I set off back down the stairs

"Give me a shout when you're ready."

I went downstairs into the kitchen to turn on the video monitor. I had installed some cameras down by the pool. I was a bit worried that guests might think they could use them to monitor their children in the pool but that would have been grossly negligent. They were there just so whoever was stuck in the kitchen could see what the other house guests were up to. There was also an intercom system. I wasn't sure it was strictly necessary in these days of ubiquitous smartphones but I thought nevertheless it would still be useful. Call everyone back for lunch, ask if anyone wants drinks, whatever.

I heard Amy call. I went back into the hall and there she was. A beautiful flowery bikini with some bright colours and she had a silky sarong wrapped round her middle. Very decorous but a sight for sore eyes if you've being missing female company.

"Wow yourself. You look great. That really suits you. So cheerful". I was gabbling. Pull yourself together. She didn't seem to notice and just enjoyed the compliment. It took me years to realise how powerful simple, genuine compliments could be. Indeed they didn't even have to be genuine, just credible. These were genuine.