Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
“Right, by way of a general introduction,” he began, “I'd just like to talk you through
the details before viewing the property. It's…”
“Absolutely not necessary, James,” interrupted Jack. “That is, unless there are any new
or revised plans that don't resemble the first lot you sent us. We've read those three times
now.” He shot a meaningful glance in my direction.
“No, no just the same,” James replied brightly. “I just wanted to make sure we were
all up-to-speed and singing off the same hymn sheet, as it were.”
I nodded fervently and steered Jack towards our car ignoring his murmur of, “Bloody
sloane-ranging yuppy.”
The drive to the
domaine
was short and pleasantly level. We took a rural route, passing
green meadows thick with lush grass and fields abundant with wheat crops. It was in its
early stages of growth and the young shoots, still heavy with dew, reflected like tiny jewels
in the sunlight.
What gorgeous countryside
, I thought as I relaxed back to enjoy the pastoral views,
which were absolutely ideal for us.
Our leafy journey quickly brought us to the estate entrance. Still slightly shell-shocked
by our first property visit, we were pleased to see that it had a sturdy, easy-to-open gate.
We drove through and found ourselves surrounded by a pastoral scene that was now part
of the estate. The car was being buffeted by a breeze here but I thought nothing of it and
glanced over at Jack who had managed a complimentary word or two. It couldn't possibly
qualify as chitchat, but at least he seemed to be fairly calm.
As we drew up to the house, a tall, imposing gentleman opened the door to greet us.
It was because he looked rather austere and was immaculately dressed that I decided it was
safer to leave the dogs in the car. At least until a positive rapport had been established.
They were lying perfectly peaceably anyway, so I left them to continue their surveillance
of the surroundings from their niche. As we got out, the front door of the house slammed
shut with a resounding crash.
“Good morning,” announced the owner. “My name is Dupond and I have left a win-
dow open.”
“Never mind,” said James, cheerily. “Allow me to introduce my clients, they're Eng-
lish.”
“Welcome to my house,”
monsieur
replied glaring at us. “I am an
avocat
(lawyer) and
I am forced to sell it because my wife, she has divorced me. She is now living in Paris. You
English understand much about divorce laws I think,” he added.
This wasn't the usual style of introduction one would have expected, but he was a flu-
ent English speaker which was very handy. Because of this I ignored the early sociopathic
indications.
“Oh dear, I
am
sorry. So are you happy for us to view your property?” I asked.
