The patron looked at me. I could see by his expression he was thinking very deeply and that it was a habit not too familiar to him. To reinforce my opinion he looked up at the ceiling where I presume in the room above he was hoping God was there to help. Then on receiving what I thought was an appropriate sign turned to Sean and said.
"Would you both mind speaking English so I can understand you?"
There was then a little confusion on our part as we tried to continue in our best Franglais until it became apparent that the use of the language of communication he suggested could help immensely in our quest. For we found once we reverted to our native tongue he ascertained our plight very quickly and then demonstrated the advantage of being bilingual by phoning his brother who knew a bit about voitures.
It took us some time to get back to the car mainly because Sean was convinced that when we departed from the cafe we should have turned left rather than right.
E
After about an hour we began to wonder where James and Sean had got to and I speculated they had found a Routier where they had been enticed into a five course meal with copious quantities of local vin and completely forgotten about us. Jill thought that it was more likely that they had found and fallen in love with a couple of French hussies and abandoned us. However, just when we had given up hope and were considering throwing ourselves at the first rich Gallic homme who would take us away to his French Chateau, an old truck arrived and a man in a thick woollen vest alighted and asked if we were friends with the strange foreigners who had told his brother that their car had broken down. When we said yes for some reason he offered his sympathies and suggested that if we wished to move to France he would introduce us to some bon amiees who had a modicum of sanity and would look after us properly.
Before we could answer in the affirmative he went to the front of the car and performed some operations which indicated that opening a car bonnet and examining the contents was his life and joy for he quickly told us that a machine called an ‘alternateur’ was broken. I was just going to ask what this was when we espied our nearest and dearest walking or should I say sauntering along the road towards us with an air as if they did not have a care in the world.
J.
While we were walking back the effects of the shots of alcohol began to take effect. This gave Sean the opportunity to quiz me about Elizabeth. Not knowing about our time travel adventures I had to be careful.
"So Jimbo I hear you found Elizabeth at a cricket match. Is she not a bit posh for you? A bit different from your usual slappers I hear.”
"Careful Sean you’re talking about Jill's friends.”
"Good point, we'll let that pass. So what's the attraction? She’s a bit stuck up at times.
"Just the way she was brought up. But underneath she's just like the rest of us and she certainly keeps me on my toes"
"Oh. So she really goes does she?"
I find answering this question about a girl you're in love with quite difficult to answer. First you want to demonstrate to your mates that you're an alpha male and there is no harem big enough to satisfy your desires but at the same time you want to demonstrate that this is the best girl you've ever had (Sorry I meant 'met'.. Oh dear I meant 'had' and 'met'...I'm in trouble if she reads this aren't I?). There is also the problem of ensuring that she is viewed as a girl of moral upstanding and is not the local motor bike just in case any comments you make get back to her.
Luckily Sean saw my hesitation and was good enough to help me not dig a hole further. So he said.
"Well Jill likes her. She says she's good for you though I don't normally take that as a compliment from a girl. What I don't understand is where do you disappear off to for days at a time?"
"She hasn't travelled much so I've been taking around the country."
Just then luckily I noticed a truck by our car and what looked like a mechanic talking to the girls.
When we got back to the car the mechanic was conversing fluently in French with Elizabeth. I realised in hindsight that I should have taken her instead of Sean to the village and save some embarrassment. When she saw us she said.
"Where have you been James? The garagiste could not find you on the road and was worried you were lost.”
Sean who was not going to admit to taking the wrong turn said we had gone into the bushes for a pee and must have missed the mechanic.
"Well James I hope you are feeling better. Anyway I understand the alternateur is broken and it will not be until tomorrow that a replacement can arrive and the car should be taken to his garage for safe keeping."
How she translated or even knew the word 'alternator' I have no idea. However this news resulted in a little quiet mumbling between Sean and me on the competency of French engineering. Maybe the word “Agincourt” came up. But just when we were discussing the advantages of arrow over armour, Elizabeth, who like all girls can multitask and therefore apparently can listen to two conversations at once said "James before you start a new Anglo French war I should tell you that this “bon homme” has offered to take us to his house for some supper where his wife will give us a delicious homemade broth and a welcoming glass of Calvados."
All discussion of Agincourt and Crecy were quickly forgotten. And so having hitched Sean's car to the truck we jammed ourselves into the front seat and were whisked off to the village we had just left to the Mechanics house.
After excellent hospitality where Elizabeth translated and thankfully filtered all the conversations I asked her to see if they knew where we could stay and to our amazement she said the mechanic told her we could rest overnight at an old mill nearby owned for many years by their family and that his wife and daughter had already left to prepare for our reception! We graciously accepted his offer and I asked Elizabeth to tell them that we thought the French were the best people in the world and would tell everyone when we got home.
E.
We transferred all our luggage to our mechanics carriage and in no time at all we were off into the countryside in his carriage complete with our luggage, to the old mill. However this contraption was nothing like Sean's and I promise not to complain about Sean's carriage ever again. To begin with a door was missing which allowed us to enjoy the fragrance of the recently chicken manured fields and the roof seemed to be made of a roll of corrugated iron. The suspension was so over sprung that each corner rose and fell independently of each other and in the process transferred our luggage from one lap to another. It was only by shear willpower and the fact the carriage was designed only for four that we remained wedged in our seats. I asked James what this devilish machine was and he replied that it was a Two Cee Vee so named because it had the power of two horses. I suggested that if I had horses that gave such a ride they would be in danger of being turned to glue at the earliest opportunity. He agreed with me but also said it was such a difficult car to maintain that in the past, before we had met I should add, his second question to any prospective girlfriend was did she have one. Apparently he was quite convinced that a woman who had brought such a carriage was only looking for a man who could service it for them. He then unnecessarily reminded me that in forming a relationship with a lady, servicing her undercarriage rather than her carriage was normally his preferred objective. Well Really! I reminded him that although most women suspected the thoughts of men ploughed a deep and rather narrow furrow I did not need further confirmation. For some reason he found my reply quite humorous!
However, by now it was getting very dark. There were no lights save the weak beams of the bone shaker illuminating the narrow road. After about half an hour we turned on to a narrow gravel track. Dense hedgerows pressed against us casting strange shadows in the dark. There had not been any signs of habitation for the past few miles. How long we travelled I do not know but just as I began to think that perhaps Sean's comments on French engineering and Agincourt had been overheard, the “chemin” cleared and a silhouette of what we took to be the mill surrounded by de
crepit old ruined barns and outhouses appeared momentarily illuminated by a gibbous moon scurrying through a gap in the clouds.
J.
We stopped at some distance from the Mill and the mechanic got out. He beckoned us to follow him and also thankfully pointed to a large dark pond on our left which we hadn't noticed. After an exchange of glances we retrieved our baggage and followed him carefully as he guided us with a torch towards the mill. The night was silent, not even an owl, save for the sound of our feet crunching on the gravel. We followed him up some rather rickety steps and arrived at a porch. He then pushed open the unlocked door and striking a match lit an oil lamp which revealed an old oak beamed room which looked as if it hadn’t changed since the parting of heads of the French nobility from their bodies had become fashionable. He quickly went round the chamber lighting candles and oil lamps then beckoned us in. I didn't even think it was worth asking whether there was any electricity.
He then showed us around the chambers and a small kitchen and then leaving some matches on the table with a parting adieu he left us and drove off into the darkness. The old mill was now very quiet and ours.
E.
There was no sound save for the gentle rustling of invisible trees tops swaying in a light