Changing Seasons. Spring VI, part 1

Spring VI, part 1 Jean Paul was beaming at Mary, who had definitely taken a shine to him. Which was just as well, Annette thought, as he was going to be part of her life for a while to come! Marcus was listening to Claudette explaining their story, and Pierre, the third of the siblings was watching Sarah Jane trying to decide whether to eat her food or wear it. “Grandpere, he thinks that no, a woman cannot run a vineyard. It is for a man to inherit it. So he would not leave it to Maman, but to a distant cousin. And even after Maman and Papa died and we went to live with Grandpere and Grandmere, he would not change his mind! No matter that we work hard and learn as much as he would let us learn!”
Annette smiled to herself at the indignation in Claudette’s tone. She liked her already. And it was very obvious that for all she was the youngest, she was the spokeswoman for the family. “But Grandmere, she is clever and cunning. She says to me, ‘Ma petite Claudette, I cannot make your so-stubborn Grandpere change his mind. But I can help you to change your life.’ She leaves me her jewellery, and when Grandpere is about to make the big fuss, she says to him, a man cannot inherit a woman’s jewellery: he would look too silly wearing it, the rings would not fit his fingers…And Grandpere is silenced.” “But to me she says, in secret, ‘Claudette, I want you to sell it. Keep one thing to remember me, but sell the rest and make possible the life that you would desire. Your Grandpere, he is too old, too set in his ways, but somewhere, ma petite, there will be a place for you. And so we have come. To learn all the things we do not know, to work hard for you, and maybe, some day, we plant our own vineyard, start our own winery.” “Welcome to the family,” said Annette. “I’ll show you to your quarters.” Nutmeg had definitely lived up to the promise Chas and Sal had seen in him as a colt. Old Pete and Cinnamon between them had produced a fine horse, a good mixture of Cinnamon’s agility and Old Pete’s speed. Sal loved schooling him, loved riding him. She finished the schooling, unsaddled him and rubbed him down and then went to replace the poles that had fallen when they’d misjudged a take-off.
“We need to get these jumps painted and smartened up,” Sal called over to Chas who was schooling Demerara. “Story of our lives,” Chas called back over the thud of Demerara’s hooves. She seemed to have picked up Old Pete’s speed in her genes. Big time. Now if he could get her to think as well… “And talking of smartening things up, we need to start thinking about what to do with this main house. I was talking to Blake – his place looks great now - and he’s right. Visitors will look in through these downstairs windows. Any ideas? You and Clara were looking round in here the other day.”
“Well, since you ask…” Sal said. “Clara thinks we could lose this pretty disgusting downstairs toilet for a start. She reckons it was originally an outdoors one that got sort of incorporated into the indoors! But then we would gain a load more space in this room and we could make a proper eat-in-here kitchen.” “And we need a tack room. Clara actually said, You need somewhere for all this smelly leather to live – I don’t think she likes the smell of saddle soap! – but we could put a wall up and turn this into a proper tack room and a tool store.” “And with that downstairs toilet room gone,” Sal went on, gesturing over at the shabby door that led to it, “we’ll have a nice big square room over there. If we clean up the stairs and the banisters, no-one will be able to guess that upstairs is still a total mess!” “Phew! You and Clara didn’t hang around, did you?”
“Were we supposed to?” Sal asked sweetly. “We both found it really good fun. Took out all our frustrations on it…all the people who’ve made really annoying comments about taking too long in the bathroom…” “Grrr!” Chas said, but his sister hadn’t finished yet.
“Personally, I think you could do with spending longer in there. I don’t want to sound rude…”
“Oh yes, you do!”
“…but I can tell you’ve been trying and failing to beat Frank again. And you smell.”
Unfortunately, Chas had to admit, she was right on both counts. “Outside though – we’ll need to do all of that, not just the ground floor. And probably asap.”
Chas nodded. Sal was right. The stables were clean, painted, smart, and so were the cobbles, the grass…but the house itself was still a bit the worse for wear. Sound, yes – they’d patched up the odd holes, replaced broken panes of glass. But it didn’t exactly scream “potentially successful stud” at anyone. More like poverty-stricken stud. And that was not the image they wanted to project.
“How many people do you think we could get to come and help?”
“Clara would,” Sal said promptly.
“And Frank, and Honey. I wonder if Marcus and Annette would lend us their three for a day?”
“Georgie’s always up for joining in,” Sal added.
“And though I don’t think her Grandpa Geo’s up for joining in, let’s not forget Old Tench and Artie. And I could ask Blake too…” Looks good, doesn’t it? There was a boatload of us working here last weekend, mostly slopping white paint around like there was no tomorrow. Noisy, fun – I can’t believe the difference in this town since I arrived. Or the difference in me, now that I think about it. Though I’ve still got no urge to get on the back of one of these horses, no matter what Sal says! Bad enough that I smell of whatever it is they use on those saddles – I was helping Sal move them around so that she could paint the walls in that tack room or whatever they call it. After I’ve cycled over to the bookshop, I’m having a bath and these clothes are going in the wash! It’s the first time I’ve been here: looking after children takes up a lot of my day. I wouldn’t change it, but it keeps me busy. I haven’t met the guy who runs it either – Old Tench said that Artie said he’s ‘interestin’. Whatever that means! Old Tench could have warned me! Who has blue hair? Apart from aliens, that is? And now the alien’s shaking my hand and looking deep into my eyes and – oh no! He’s sniffing! He can smell me! “Saddle soap! Love that smell. You must be the promising young rider I’ve heard so much about. I’d love to come and visit the stables one day, if I might. Artie will tell you that I can be trusted around horses. Byron. Byron McKay, totally at your service. How can I help you?”
Good grief, he’s pouring on the charm like there’s no tomorrow. I’ve met people like you before, buster. And I don’t think I trust you. But two can play at your game… “Oh, I wouldn’t describe myself as an amazing young rider at all. You’re flattering me. You’re right about the smell though, I’m afraid. I have been tidying up the tack room.”
Chas and Sal’s! Not mine!
“Actually, I came to look at cookery books.” “I have a selection upstairs. I’m stocking a mixture of new and second-hand, so hopefully you'll find something you want at a price you like.”
Stop gazing directly into my eyes like that! It’s a corny trick.
“Would you like me to come up and show you, or would you just like to browse on your own?” I think I’ll look round on my own, thank you very much! Let’s see what we’ve got up here. And what have we got down there? I suppose, right next door to an art gallery, he’s not going to seem quite so exotic. Can’t see him on the back of a horse though. Except maybe bareback in fancy dress. “I’ll take these two, please.”
“My pleasure. And – I do hope we meet again soon.”
Good grief, the guy does a good line in deep sincerity. Even I could almost believe him. I think I’d better warn Chas about Byron McKay – if he’s horse mad, and pulls this gazing-into-your-eyes trick with every female, I don’t like to think of the effect he might have on Sal.

The bookshop carts, magazines and books are by Sandy at ATS3
Woodside Barns is by Cyclone Sue at TSR
The bookshop was made by Cyclone Sue at TSR (it’s called The Old Clockwork Factory).