Hard Hats and Hairpins - Fat Dogs and French Estates - page 103

buttons of his shirt were under great strain. It may have been washed once too often on a
'boil' setting.
As he beamed at us another problem presented itself. It was deciding which eye one
should concentrate on. One of his eyes was fixed directly ahead whilst the other was a real
rover. Not wishing to be rude I assumed a slightly glazed expression which was my attempt
to take in both at the same time whilst I worked out which to plump for.
It quickly transpired that neither of them spoke a word of English but that didn't matter
because we had Thierry. Following the workers' picnic incident, where he'd proved him-
self to be an excellent moderator, he now employed his suave tones as an official translator.
First things first, I asked whether the dogs might be allowed out of the car. After all
it had been a difficult journey and Biff was beginning to look decidedly green around the
gills. Madame went into immediate raptures at the very idea. She strode up to the car,
opened the boot and smothered them with hugs.
“ Quel joli petit terrier, et un border collie aussi beau. ” (What a lovely little terrier and
also a beautiful Border Collie.)
Ah! The collie conundrum again.
Jack swiftly nudged me in the ribs, fearing an onset of my Australian Shepherd speech.
Reluctantly I held my tongue and watched as the dogs heroically endured an onslaught of
sloppy kisses before bustling out. Then, sensing that she was an ally, they followed her into
the house, reappearing a couple of minutes later with an unidentifiable bone each. We left
them crunching happily and went indoors.
As we walked in we immediately came face-to-face with a small, desiccated object
that was hanging on the wall attached to a hook by a length of string. I had no idea what it
could be but, rather like the car we had so recently passed, it was also upside down. Mon-
sieur , smiling proudly, then informed us that it was a woodcock he'd shot a number of years
ago. I puzzled how he'd managed to shoot anything with his eye issues, but was happy to
note that this seemed to be the only taxidermy exhibit.
The property itself was a square, sturdy building with a red Roman tiled roof, gently
sloping from the eaves. All windows had robust, nicely painted wooden protective shutters
and the walls were beautifully rendered. The interior was an example of open plan at its
most tasteful.
Utility areas were neatly tucked away giving the majority of space over to the salon
and kitchen. These had been separated by a central wood-burning fire which I thought was
a brilliant construction idea. The chimney was clad with stone and the fully enclosed fire
had two glass doors, one that could be opened from the salon and the other from the kit-
chen. With logs stacked up on either side, it was the essence of a cosy, country home.
As we continued, so did the elegance in taste and décor. The kitchen was big, well
equipped and had a chunky rustic dining table positioned in front of French windows. Mon-
sieur opened them up with a flourish and beckoned us onto a delightful terrace.