House That Berry Built (8 page)

“If it makes things simpler…”

Henri took up the running.

“It does two things, Madame. First of all, it speaks for itself: secondly, it shows us that you, Madame, know your own mind. If, as I hope, you employ us, we shall, I know, find it a pleasure to do your will. And now may we see the site?”

Jonah and I led the way. We surveyed the site from the road. Then we made our way to the ledge and surveyed it from there.

“You mentioned a terrace, Monsieur.”

“That’s right. We want a broad terrace, running the length of the house. Say, four metres fifty in width.”

I saw Henri bite his lip.

“What we feel,” said Jonah, “is this. If we are to build we don’t want to waste any time. Now we cannot build in the winter, because of the frosts. But neither can we start building, until we have shifted a very great deal of soil. I mean, to build upon a mountain the house that we want, you must first make a ledge or platform – do you agree?”

“Certainly, sir.”

“Well, to make your platform, you cut soil out of the slope and, with the soil you displace, you raise the ground below you to the level at which you stand.”

“Quite so.”

“In this way, when you have dislodged five metres of soil, you will, in fact, have a platform eight metres deep – not ten, of course, because of the wastage: but I think you can fairly say eight. So far, so good. But three of those metres will be ‘made’ ground: and on ‘made’ ground you cannot build safely, until it has settled right down. If, then, we begin the excavation at once, the soil can settle through the winter and we can build in the spring.”

The brothers looked grave.

Then—

“Monsieur,” said Jean, “we should like to consider the matter. Please remember this. You have asked us to build, not a chalet, but a château – a large, substantial home.” He paused. “Today is Friday. Will you receive us on Monday at ten o’clock?”

“That will do well,” said Berry. “Always provided that you bring some concrete suggestions. I don’t want to rush you unfairly; but autumn is coming on and we do not want to waste time. And if you cannot help us, we shall have to ask someone else.”

The brothers bowed.

“Monsieur may count upon us. On Monday we will submit a definite plan.”

When the two had gone their way—

“Are they scared?” said Daphne.

“No,” said I. “They’re only overwhelmed. It’s a bigger private house than they’ve ever built before; and, from their point of view, the most damned awful site that they’ve ever seen. But they’re out to get the contract. Just look at the advertisement. You’ll be able to see the house for seven miles.”

This was literally true. Once built, it would be a landmark.

“They’re most deeply impressed,” said Berry.

“And what are they saying at this moment – in the safe seclusion of their car?”

“That all English are mad,” said everyone.

“But we aren’t, really,” said Jill. “ If it comes off, it’ll be the most perfect thing.”

“I entirely agree,” said Berry. “If it comes off.”

The brothers were back on Monday at ten o’clock.

Jean had a roll of tracings under his arm.

When the two had paid their respects, Henri addressed himself to Jonah.

“Monsieur insisted on Friday that before the house could be built, a platform must first be prepared upon which to build. Very good. Monsieur is right. But we do not like ‘made’ ground, and to delve for twenty metres into the mountainside is quite unthinkable. Besides, who wants a house let into a mountainside? Indeed, if we delve for five metres, that will be quite enough. But your house, with its terrace, is twenty-five metres deep. Very well, then, we build a wall. We build a wall which is thirty metres long, directly across the slope and exactly twelve metres
below
where you wish your house to stand. That wall is immensely strong and exactly twelve metres high. Now when that wall has been built, there will be a V-shaped gulf between it and the mountainside. That gulf we shall cover with a platform – a platform of ferro-concrete. And upon that platform, Monsieur, we build the house. The terrace and two thirds of the house will stand upon the platform; the remaining third will rest on the mountain itself.”

We all cried out at the excellence of the idea.

“What is more, we can start at once. With luck, our wall should be up before the hard frosts come in. The platform, no. But we can get all ready against the coming of spring; and during the winter we quietly cut our five metres out of the mountainside.”

“The wall will have wings,” said Jonah.

“Quite so, Monsieur. Wings at each end which rise with the wall and run into the mountainside. And the platform itself will be supported by piers.” Jean began to unroll the tracings. “The wall will be all of stone – from the quarry across the valley, two miles away. It is a kind of granite, and very suitable. Its foundations will be of ferro-concrete, and at every four metres it will be girded with steel.”

“Wings and all,” said Jonah.

“Precisely, Monsieur. So it will be, so to speak, welded into the mountainside. The base of the wall will be two metres thick: and it will taper gradually to half a metre thick at the top. Such a wall and its platform will cost you five hundred pounds.”

There was a little silence.

Then—

“That’s a lot of money,” said Berry. “I mean, to pay that out, before you begin to build…”

Jean Lafargue spread out his hands.

“Monsieur, what will you? That is the price of building on such a site. But I must be frank with Monsieur. Unless we may build such a platform, we cannot undertake to build such a house. And it will have advantages. The excavation, for one thing, will be very slight. And excavation costs money. The house will require no foundations and will be as dry as a bone. You will have a most spacious chamber beneath the house – such storerooms, work-rooms and cellars as never were seen.”

“It’s a grand idea,” said Jonah. “We must think it over, of course: but I give you best. A mighty retaining wall. And the earth from the excavation goes to make terraced gardens on either side.”

“Monsieur should have been a builder,” said Henri fervently.

“Terraced gardens be damned,” said Berry. “What of the terrace itself? Fifteen feet by ninety, full in the sun – and commanding as fine a view as I ever saw. Projected, as it were, into space. It’ll be the eighth wonder of the world. And less than twenty hours from the grill-room of the Savoy.”

We studied the tracings forthwith…

It was very clear that the brothers desired the contract. They and their draughtsmen must have worked to all hours to produce plans so clear and so finished in such a short time.

Finally—

“Monsieur permits us to visit the site again?”

“Of course.”

We all went with them.

Less than two hours later, Carson had marked with pegs the outline of the foundations of the retaining wall.

Henri was to return the following afternoon. He had to recruit local labour and obtain official permission to quarry the stone we required. The local labour would be leavened by men from his staff at Pau. The latter would lodge at Lally during the week, and a lorry would take them home on Saturday afternoon. A foreman, whose name was Joseph, would be in charge, and one of the brothers would be there three times a week. The work would actually start in three days’ time – at six in the morning of Thursday, to be precise. But Henri was to see us on Tuesday at five o’clock – to learn our decision regarding the entrance-drive.

Jonah put it clearly enough – on Monday afternoon.

“The first thing they’ve got to do is to make a drive into the meadows out of the road. Now the level of the first meadow is six feet above the road at its lowest point. To gain that six feet, or more, they must make a considerable ramp. More. Because the road is so narrow, the entrance itself must be wide: otherwise no big vehicle will be able to get in. Now we don’t want to do more damage than we can help; so the drive which is cut for the lorries which bring the building stuff must be the drive which will afterwards serve the house. We must therefore decide here and now where we want the entrance and how the drive is to run.”

“Entrance by the
ruisseau
,” said I.

“That’s what I think,” said my cousin. “The other end of the field would really be more convenient, for, if we enter by the
ruisseau
, everything coming from Lally will be faced with a hairpin turn: but the ground at the other end runs into a ridge and to cut a drive out of that would mean easily twice as much work.”

“What about the middle?” said Jill.

“That’s out of the question,” said I, “for the middle is where they will work. They must have a clear space there, in which to mix their mortar and shoot their sand and stones. The middle, in fact, will be the builder’s yard. And there they will set up the crane they will have to have.”

“Did you say a crane?” said Daphne.

“Of course,” said Jonah. “The platform will be forty feet up – forty feet from the foot of the wall. Say, roughly, seventy feet above the drive. Well, you can’t climb seventy feet with a lot of rocks in your arms.”

My sister put a hand to her head.

“I’m beginning to get frightened,” she said. “What have we done?”

“One minute,” said Berry. “For reasons best known to yourselves, you seem to have decided that the entrance should be by the rill. You’re probably wrong, but I don’t dispute your decision, because I can’t see that it matters the flick of a turkey’s eyelid where we go in. But then you said we must settle how the drive is to run. Well, that’s a very different cup of tea.”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” said Jonah. “You see, there’s only one way in which the drive can run. And that’s parallel to the road, about twenty feet inside the meadow, which happily, just to begin with, is very nearly flat. You enter by the
ruisseau
or rill and then drive straight along across the foot of the site. And there’s the garage waiting, right at the other end.”

“Who cares about the garage?” said Berry. “How will a car proceed from the road to the house?”

“It won’t,” said I. “It will proceed from the road to the foot of the front-door steps.”

“Don’t quibble,” said Berry.

“He isn’t quibbling,” said Jonah. “Just before it enters the garage, a car will pass the foot of the front-door steps. These will debouch upon the apron on which the cars are washed.”

“But you said just now that the house would be seventy feet above the drive.”

“About that,” said Jonah.

Berry looked wildly round.

“One of us is insane,” he said. “You can’t have a hundred and forty front-door steps.”

“Thereabouts,” said Jonah. “To take a drive up to the house, we should have to buy two more meadows; and then the drive would cost us five hundred pounds to build. Of course there’ll be two flights of steps, one front and one back.”

As soon as he could speak—

“I see,” said Berry. “And suppose you get down to the drive, to find you’ve forgotten your teeth?”

“You ring up Therèse from the garage and tell her to throw them down.”

Berry left his seat and took a short walk.

On his return—

“What about a lift?” he demanded.

“Out of the question,” said Jonah.

“The other day,” said I, “you were all for a flight of steps.”

“I said a flight,” said Berry. “Not a tread-mill. D’you honestly mean to tell me there’s no way out?”

“None,” said Jonah. “I thought you realized that. We shall soon get used to them. After all, what are a few steps, if they’re going to lead to a terrace ‘projected into the air’?”

My brother-in-law swallowed.

“We’d better,” he said, “we’d better have some quarters by the garage. Nothing much. Just a bedroom and bathroom, you know – in case I feel faint. Oh, and what do we do if it’s raining?”

“Fairly squirt upstairs,” said I, “and into the porch.”

“Remove that man,” said Berry, excitedly. “Charge him with obscene libel.” He turned upon Daphne and Jill. “Yes, you can laugh, you sirens. Not a word about steps yesterday. Slush about hanging gardens and terraces in the air. So I signed that blasted contract. Fancy paying five hundred quid to have your guts dragged out every time you come in.”

“Darling,” said Daphne, “it sounds much worse than it is. Besides, Jonah thinks about a hundred. Not more than that. And you won’t have to run up and down them all day long.”

“Are you trying to be comforting?” said her husband.

“Listen,” said I. “It is, of course, inconvenient. You can’t get away from that.”

“No exaggeration, please,” said Berry.

“But it is unavoidable, unless, as Jonah says, we like to buy two more fields and then pay out five hundred pounds, half to be spent on labour and half on retaining walls. Which is absurd. But don’t forget that the garden will be on the house-level. The steps will only be used when we want to go out in the car.”

“Only,” said Berry. “Say twice a day. That’s a hundred and fifty thousand a year. Talk about the blue-based baboons… We’d better call the house ‘The Postman’s Delight’.”

“Do you agree,” said Jonah, “that the entrance should be by the
ruisseau
?”

“Oh, I suppose so,” said Berry. “The bottom’s fallen out of my soul – but what of that?”

“And the garage the other end?”

“Provided that it has a retiring-room. I won’t climb a hundred steps every time I want to powder my nose.”

This remark was very properly ignored.

Jonah got to his feet.

“Come on then,” he said. “Let’s go and peg out the entrance, so that there’s no mistake.”

Berry joined us before we had done.

“Must they start at cockcrow?” he asked.

“At six,” I said. “Not cockcrow.”

“Same thing,” said Berry. “Oh well… But I’m damned if I’ll shave.”

“Do you mean to be present?” said I.

“Of course. Am I or am I not the head of the family?”

“You are.”

“I should damned well think so,” said Berry. “As such I have my rights. You can keep your hundred steps – and put them where they belong. But my prerogative remains. No one shall take it from me. Be the hour dawn or dusk, I’m going to turn the first sod.”