Briefed by a Lawyer - Fat Dogs and French Estates - page 82

“Yes,” he replied. “I have to do this. So you must. Please to come this way. I shall con-
duct the tour first externally so you may ask questions during this period.”
Strangely enough I sensed that Jack was warming to this fellow. He was obviously a
businessman, which was a point in his favour. On the other hand he was also a declared
lawyer. Jack usually puts these professionals in the same category as estate agents, journal-
ists and politicians: pond life.
Nevertheless, there was a faintest inkling of a rapport developing. I'm always keen to
nurture any hint of positive social behaviour.
“Well, this is good, darling,” I murmured. “There's no messing about with this chap,
that's for sure. He's unlikely to be a small-talker so it looks like we're in for an efficient
morning.”
“Good,” came the predictably curt reply.
Conversely, the cuddly Jimmy was looking rather anxious by this less than gushing
welcome and was visibly relieved when we accepted the introductions in good faith.
Although we couldn't be accused of getting on like 'a house on fire', things were going
well enough that I asked if we could let the dogs out and perhaps take them with us on the
tour. Monsieur looked slightly disgusted.
“Yes, they will be permitted, but after they must then be remaining in the car because
I have the sheep … but not for much longer.”
Bemused, I wasn't sure whether he thought the dogs would maul them, or that his ex-
wife had won custody. So I simply thanked him and went off to collect the mutts.
“My house is builded on a small hill,” monsieur said, by way of beginning the tour.
“Yes, we noticed that,” muttered Jack, who clearly felt that this was a redundant ob-
servation.
“You must begin at the other side of it. You can see much of my land from there,” con-
tinued monsieur , ignoring Jack.
With the dogs on their leads getting livelier by the minute, we proceeded towards the
rear of the house. At this point my attention was unavoidably drawn to what seemed to be
endless strips of chicken wire pinned to patches of grass. I was trying to work out what
they were for when monsieur barked an instruction.
“ Attention! I have been infested by the rabbits, many, many of them. They eat my ve-
getables and grass - all of it. I must put mesh down to stop them.”
“Does the netting hurt their feet?” enquired James.
Both Jack and monsieur turned their heads and stared witheringly at the poor man.
“Ah non! Anyway, I don't care,” came the response. “These animals they are the ver-
mins! I have researched their behaviours and I know they will now build new holes in these
zones. They must be destroyed.”