Running Scarred (9 page)

She woke on the morning of the meeting with a nervous flutter in her stomach.

Ellen was going to unveil her finalized plans that afternoon. She had been hoping to see Patrick the evening before the meeting to go over her ideas and reassure him, but he had avoided her yet again and she had stomped home, furious at his stubborn refusal to see her. 

She climbed out of her sleeping bag, stiff and un-rested. The sun was in full force now June had arrived and the morning was already hot. She straightened her sleeping bag on the floor and rolled her shoulders. She hadn’t slept properly in weeks and she was beyond tired, her body aching from sleeping for months on the hard floor.

After the first week of clearing, she had been intending to sleep at the local hotel, but when it became obvious that the owners were unhappy about possible competition, she had just slung a bedding roll on the floor of one of the better rooms and had made it her makeshift bedroom.

She grabbed the only dress she had brought with her from her suitcase and walked through the hall.

She slipped into the kitchen and washed in the huge sink. It was inconvenient and still only ran with cold water, but she was waiting for the plumbers to arrive. They were due in a few
days time as soon as her permits were in place. She could barely wait for her first hot shower. She brushed her hair and tied it back using David’s diamond clip hoping it would bring her good luck. Then she slipped the pale yellow dress on quickly and turned the kettle on.

She unrolled the plans and sat with her tea going over and over them, making sure she had answers to every possible question and contingency plans if she didn’t.

She lifted her head and looked through the window as she heard a truck pulling up outside. She was surprised to see Monsieur Sylvan arriving with his lorry. Now the windows had arrived and been fitted perhaps the ugly grey scaffolding was being removed at last. She walked outside to see the work wondering why he was three days early.

She waved at the driver of the truck and he sprang out of the cab to greet her.

“Mademoiselle, a good day for you I think and for me too. Your workers ‘ave finished just in time. I ‘ave to get this all removed and on the truck by tonight. Another job ‘as come up. A superb opportunity, the men are very ‘appy to ‘ave more work confirmed, but I ‘ave to be on site first thing in the morning or I will lose the contract. ‘ave you anyone ‘ere that can help me load up today?”

Ellen shook her head.

“Today? No, everyone has the day off. I’m going to the town hall. There is the meeting arranged for the change of use. I thought we had an agreement that this lot would be staying until the end of the week?” She put her cup on the windowsill and looked around the Chateau. There were no other workmen here today. She had given them all the day off because she was going to be at the planning meeting and many of them wanted to see how it would all go down with the locals. “I don’t have anyone here today Monsieur Sylvan. I wasn’t expecting to have this lot loaded quite that soon.”

Monsieur Sylvan gave an expansive shrug.

“But I must ‘ave it all by the morning regardless, or I will lose a great deal of money and my men will ‘ave no work. I will ‘ave to charge you if it is not loaded in time.”

Ellen looked taken aback at his tone. There was no way he was going to make her pay for his change of plans.

“Then I will have to deduct your daily rate for the three days that you agreed to leave the scaffolding here. I can work that out quite easily. But whether I can adjust your fees or not I’m certainly not going to be able to get that lot loaded by tonight, I just don‘t have the workforce and it’s too late to get them to come in now.”

Monsieur Sylvan shook his head and frowned.

“Maybe you do not understand me. I ‘ave to ‘ave it done by the morning. The loss of the contract will leave me thousands out of pocket. I’m not prepared to lose that kind of money. And my men, they will be furious if they ‘ave no job. I really don’t want to ‘ave to charge you extra.” He puffed out his chest.

Ellen didn’t want to argue. She was simply too tired and today’s meeting was too important to risk confrontation. She couldn’t face the whole of the town having just had a dispute with one of its most respected tradesmen.

“Look, I do understand, but it’s not my fault if you confirmed a contract that you can’t fulfill. I have an agreement with you that I hire your equipment until the end of the week. That’s what I’ve paid for. I don’t want you to lose the opportunity of more work but I just can’t see how I can help you. Isn’t there some way round this?” She thought hard as Monsieur Sylvan puffed his cheeks and pursed his lips. Ellen carried on. “I mean, do you need all of the scaffolding by the morning? Can you make do with just some of it and then come back for the rest another day? Surely so long as you are on the next site and making a start, no one would object.” She was pleading to his better nature.

He thought for a few seconds and then looked at the truck again. He turned towards her with a small smile.

“As it is you Mademoiselle, I think I could make do with about ‘alf. It is only because you have used all my stocks of scaffold. This is such an ‘uge ‘ouse, but maybe I will get my men to take the whole lot down today. They will take one load, if you can get a second next truck loaded by eight in the morning then I will come back for the last of it Thursday. Can we agree on that?”

Ellen looked at the vast amount of metal pipe and scaffold boards. It would be a mammoth task but she couldn’t see any other way round the problem. She nodded in agreement, as there was nothing else she could do.

“I’ll do my best. And now I have to go. I have a meeting this afternoon with the Maire and I must have everything prepared. I can’t be late. I’ll see you at ten in the morning.” She was buying herself another couple of hours loading time. She didn’t have a clue of how she was going to load a whole lorry by herself, but as she had nobody else to rely on, she would have to try. Maybe she could get a couple of the plumbers to help her in the morning. They seemed to be fit enough for the task but she had long since learned that the French workers were only prepared to do their own job and refused to interfere with any other. It just wasn’t done.

She returned to the Chateau and gathered up the plans and paperwork she needed for her presentation, and jumped into her tiny Fiat.

The Maire greeted her at the town hall, like an old friend, kissing her on both cheeks. He showed her to a chair on the raised dais at the front of the rows of chairs.

She was shocked at the amount of seats that had been put out. She had had no idea that so many
people were interested in her plans and she became even more worried as the seats began to fill quickly. She kept her head down and tried not to make eye contact with anyone, but it was harder than she thought. People seemed to be ranging themselves into two groups, those for and those against. The numbers looked to be in her favour, but in the growing crowd it was impossible to tell. She saw Anton Le Cam arrive and sit himself right at the back of the hall with the people she thought were against her plans. He smiled up at her apologetically. She smiled back at him. She didn’t mind his apparent disloyalty. She knew he was here for Patrick.

And then, just as the hall looked to be full to bursting point, Patrick himself limped in. She saw several people glance nervously over at him and then move their eyes away quickly.

Her heart leapt into her mouth and her throat felt dry. She had longed to see him for weeks, but not under these circumstances. She gazed at his lean face, trying to keep her breathing under control.

His hair was longer than the last time she had seen him and his face appeared thinner, his dark blue eyes sought hers and just for a second she thought he was going to smile at her but then he pulled his eyebrows together fiercely and sat down next to Anton.

Her gaze dropped to the papers in front of her and she barely heard a word as the Maire called the meeting to order and began to outline her plans.

For a few moments after his initial address there was stunned silence and then suddenly murmuring broke out around the whole hall. She dared to look up to see if Patrick had been swayed in any way, but his seat was empty now. It was obvious that he had left before the end of the presentation.

The Maire invited the people to ask questions and although a translator was available, she answered them, in her improving but faltering French, as fully as she could. An hour later she was standing in the sunshine outside the town hall with all her permissions signed, sealed and delivered.

Several people came up to her and shook her hand. One elderly man cried openly in front of her, his arms waving as he gabbled on in rapid French reminiscing about the Second World War and then he kissed her several times on each cheek.

“I told you there would be nothing to worry about.” The Maire was beaming at her, patting her arm with genial familiarity. “It will be a privilege to have all your guests come to our town. They will be welcomed by every citizen. France would no longer be free if the British had not come to our aid. All of our soldiers have been forgotten for too long. I don’t know why your idea hasn’t been thought of before.”

“Perhaps I have more reasons than most to think about it Monsieur, but I really must be going. I have to go and see Mr. Reeves and get him to sign these papers,
then I can make a proper start on the project.” Ellen slid through the gossiping crowd and walked back to her car.

She drove slowly back to the Chateau, peering through the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of Patrick as he made his way home. She was so tired, the day had been more stressful than she would have believed possible. She was more than relieved as she drove between the gateposts of the driveway, she could barely stay awake, but as she arrived at the end of the avenue of trees, her eyes opened wide in horror.

There was a mammoth pile of metal piping and a huge stack of wooden boards lying in front of the Chateau. In her euphoria at having the plans passed she had forgotten about Sylvan’s scaffolding.

She knew there had been a lot of it, at least four loads had been delivered when the work had started, but when it was all up around the building it didn’t look as nearly much as the mountainous heap that lay before her. It was going to take her hours, if not days, to get it even half loaded. She
manoeuvred her car around the open backed lorry that stood hopefully beside the metal piping and parked the car at the back of the Chateau. She groaned as she looked back at the pile of metal. It was no good worrying about it. It would have to wait a little longer. She had to see Patrick first.

She trudged through the forest to his cottage, wondering if she would be able to break the door down if he refused to answer her this time, but
she was amazed to discover that the door was wide open.

“Patrick” She called softly. “Can I talk with you?” She put her head around the frame. She breathed deeply with relief and her heart fluttered madly as she saw him standing with his back turned towards her.  He poured water from his kettle into a mug.

He lifted his head at her words, but he didn’t respond verbally or turn around.

She was hesitant, not wanting him to turn her out.

“I’ve brought some papers for you to sign. I was going to give them to you after the meeting, but you left early.” She said quietly, her heart hammering with more nerves than she had experienced at the town hall. “Shall I leave them here on the table?” His silence was worse than an angry outburst. “Please Patrick.” She begged. “Don’t ignore me. The papers are official, you will have your own area of land right around your house. No one will be allowed to enter without your permission. You can still have your privacy.”

He banged the kettle back onto the stove and answered her at last, his voice tight with anger.

“I have rights, you know. You can’t keep me out of the estate. Don’t think you can buy me off, with some measly bit of garden.” He growled over his shoulder at her.

Ellen breathed in relief, even if he wasn’t
friendly, at least he was speaking to her at last. She moved a little nearer.

“I’m not trying to buy you off and I’m not trying to keep you out. That’s the last thing I want.” She whispered. “I’m giving you somewhere that none of my guests will be allowed to go. You can even fence it off if you want to.” She could see the scarred side of his face. A muscle in his jaw was clenching and his hands were stiff at his sides.

“I don’t want fences around my house. I don’t want to be caged in. I’m not an animal. I bought this place to be alone not surrounded by hundreds of people.” His voice was louder now.

She stepped back at his sudden ferocity. He sounded as though he hated her.

“Don’t be angry with me Patrick. I’ve tried to see you about this, tried to talk to you, but you won’t even look at me anymore.” She felt her voice begin to crack. It was nothing to the sounds in her heart. It was shattered already.

Patrick turned his head a few degrees towards her.

“I never looked at you much anyway. I only saw you four times before in my whole life. I don’t call that a close acquaintance. I don’t see why I have to drop everything just because you call.” His tone was spiteful, filled with hatred. He still had his back to her.

Suddenly she was angry. He was being so unfair. She walked slowly across the room and stood
right behind him, wanting to touch him so desperately she had to ball her fists at her sides to stop herself.