The Pendant

‘Hey Max, you can’t be serious about this place? You’ve paid good money for this, haven’t you?’ uttered Linda, her face showing mild disgust as she looked across the road at a dilapidated stone building backed by a high rocky cliff.

‘Well baby it’s certainly worse than I expected but it’s got the outside space and a huge coach house for my work. That’s what I wanted,’ answered Max rather guardedly as he looked at the grand but totally decaying building with no front doors and broken windows. It was the end building in a long row of terrace houses, stone built, set against a cliff side of a gorge. The house that Max had bought, unseen, was the largest, double fronted, balconied and protruded forward well beyond the others. This was probably the manager’s house and the smaller ones for the workers. To the side was a large lean to garage like building, probably for carriages in the days when the quarry to the side was being worked. This area was now well overgrown with mature trees and covered in heaps of overgrown debris.

‘But we can’t live here! No way! And don’t even mention sleeping in the van. I’ve had enough of that already, on the way down here.’

‘But Linda darling, it will only be for a few more days until I get a room ready for us.’

‘Get a room ready? Max, you have to be realistic. The roof’s fallen in and I bet the squatters have wrecked the place. Just look at it. It’s awful!’

‘The garden’s overgrown and the squatters have left long ago. Look Linda, it will only need my chainsaw to cut through all that forest to get access.’

‘So even the local squatters are choosier, eh? Come on let’s get out of here Max. You will spend more on restoration than on your sculpture.

‘Please babe, give me a chance here. I’ve spent half of my savings on this so I need to look the place over don’t you think? I’ll set you a chair on the sandy beach there by the river and you can rest and drink in the view. I told you that the Lotvalley was beautiful and you can see for yourself. I’ll get the chainsaw out and attempt to cut an entrance to the front door. Come on Linda, just five minutes. Here’s your chair and your book,” pleaded Mac as he unfolded a garden chair and positioned it carefully under a large lime tree, in the shade with a splendid view of the fast-flowing river winding through a wide gorge like valley. From the back of the van, he lifted out a menacingly large chainsaw, goggles, ear protectors and donned a navy-blue woven beanie hat that had seen better days.

The roar from the chainsaw was deafening as Mac adjusted his ear protectors and crossed the road from where they were parked in the narrow lay-by. He could just make out the dip where the front gate probably had been since he presumed it was directly across twenty metres of jungle to the now gaping front door. The bushes forming the hedge were more like trees with trunks as thick as his bulging arms but wielding the huge chainsaw he quickly scythed a path to the front door. He cut the motor and the silence was sweet. He turned to look back at the beach but it was obscured by his ancient Luton van which still had painted a faded banner of ‘Gravesend Movers,’ with ‘Best in the County’ scripted beneath. He mused to himself the ‘Gravesend’ bit was most appropriate at this hour. Turning and allowing the protectors to slip around his neck in a practised move, he was about to step gingerly forward towards the front door or the gaping abyss.

‘Excuse me, excuse me,’ said a pleading voice behind him. Max turned and saw a tall slim man in his late fifties, jeans and T-shirt, trainers, white sunhat, dark sunglasses hiding the colour of his eyes, standing halfway along the path he had just cleared. Neighbour he mused, here to complain about the noise, probably a retired bean counter or teacher. ‘Excuse me,’ repeated the voice, ‘I live next door. Have you just bought the place? Are you moving in?”

‘Hi, we had better introduce ourselves. I’m James McIntyre and my girlfriend, partner is Linda. They call me Max,’ and he held out his grimy hand. The neighbour didn’t flinch at the sight of the muck and gripped his hand in a firm shake. Max was taken aback. He was expecting some reluctance and certainly not such a positive grip.

‘Hi Max, pleased to meet you. I’m Bob and Betty my wife is in town shopping. I thought you might need a hand.’

‘Well thanks Bob, I’m just on a look around to see if this ruin is beyond repair or not. And don’t laugh, I have paid good money for it even if it looked a snip on paper.’

‘You’ll find all these buildings sound, well built from good stone and sturdy timbers. This one has suffered some from the rock fall and the roof slates have been damaged. OK, it will need total renovation but the way you wielded that chainsaw I can see you are a practical man. The structure is sound, well aired over the years. The cellars in the back can be a bit damp since they are cut into the cliff but a bit of air and heat keeps that at bay. Come on lead the way. I haven’t been inside for some years. Took the front doors off a number of years ago and hid them to dissuade the squatters. It worked and the overgrown garden kept other nosy parkers out. Sorry Max. I’m not letting you have a word in edgeways. I’m excited by having a neighbour.’

‘That’s OK Bob, just learned more about the building than from the Council’s blurb. Lead on.’

‘This is the sumptuous hall with a beautiful, tiled floor under this protection of dirt and grime. It has a grand staircase leading up to the first floor and the attic space beyond. To the right we have a large lounge. All the plaster ceilings have fallen and the squatters have burnt the laths so less for you to clear. On the left you have another large room, divided at one stage, used as a diner and study. The parquet flooring has long since been torn up by scavengers. Behind you have a primitive scullery. Let’s go upstairs. They are quite solid but the wooden banister has seen better days. The walls have kept very well. Instead of plaster the French used concrete rendering which was covered in panels with rich flock wallpaper. That’s all been burnt as has any loose furniture and shelving.’

‘Lead on Bob. I’m taking it all in.’

‘The stairs are as solid as a proverbial you know what. That brings me to the point that this place has yet to be plumbed into the sewerage system and the water has been turned off at the road, pipes all gone. You have a nice hallway at the top here with two very large bedrooms off. At the back is a cloaks cupboard that used to house the bucket. There’s a similar arrangement downstairs and in the attic. The beds open up onto a nice balcony through French windows with no glass. From upstairs you can see the state of the roof. The beams are still in good shape but the large stone schist slates have either fallen through or slipped. At least the water didn’t linger anywhere to cause rot. The roof is your first priority then you have a clean sheet once you’ve cleared out the plaster rubble and bird shit. What do you think?’

‘The rooms are enormous and the place as you say is a blank canvas. I can fix the roof in a day with a secondary structure of ply and plastic sheeting and get on with the plumbing, heating and electrics. What interests me is the huge lean-to carriage building attached. Have you been in there?’

‘No Max. The doors look sound but are all covered in rubble and trees. Local builders used this area as a fly tip until the shrubs took over. I’d like to see in there.’

‘Blimey, I’ve forgotten about Linda on the beach. She’ll kill me, come on, let’s hurry down.’

As expected, Linda was nowhere to be seen, even after a lot of shouting and searching along the banks. A car drew up and parked off the road in front of the Lutonvan. A smart lady stepped out carrying bags of shopping. Bob ran over.

‘Hello Betty, leave the shopping for the moment and meet our new neighbour. Linda has gone off for a walk about and we can’t locate her,’ said Bob breathlessly and ushered a bemused Betty towards Max.

‘Hi Betty, I’m Mac. Please don’t do the usual greetings. As you can see I’m covered in chippings and dust from the house. I don’t suppose you’ve seen a young woman, blond hair on your travels?’ said Mac looking rather worried as Betty looked him over with interest. He was a big guy, lean but muscular as if he had been spending many hours in the gym. More the shape of a rugby back than a forward with slim hips, broad shoulders, thick neck and bulging biceps. His unruly dark hair swept down to his shoulders and the most becoming feature of his face was the constant smile.

‘Hello Max, as a matter of fact I did see a woman on her own, blond spiky hair, white hoody, jeans and boots a bit like yours, a hippy type, about two miles up the road hitching a lift into town I suppose. Probably was your Linda. Can you phone her?’

‘That’s her in one. I’ll go and give chase because her mobile is dead. Just keep an eye on my gear Bob.’

‘Nothing of the sort Max. Come inside and at least clean up. You look dreadful and I’ll take you into town to look for her.’

‘Thanks Betty but I’d better go in my van. She’ll recognise it and all her stuff is in there. I’d better clean up too. She’s not very happy about me and her new accommodation.’

‘I’m not surprised. Look Max, we have a spare room which you can have for as long as you need. We let it out occasionally so if you feel embarrassed you can contribute financially, although that’s not necessary to a neighbour in need. Bob, you help Max clear up outside whilst I get towels for the room. Max, get yourself a clean shirt and trousers and have a shower, might be more persuasive that way. Go on hurry, there’s no more decisions to be made, chop, chop!’ said Betty cheerfully as she picked up her shopping to carry inside. Max retrieved his travel bag from the back and slammed the van doors shut.

Having showered, changed into some clean clothes he set off in the van in the direction of Milleau. Betty had told him that a gal with no money or cards would go to either the Tourist Information, the bank to try and get money for a fare and at the last resort to the police where she could make up a story that she was mugged and they would make contact with the British Consulate to help her. Max double parked outside the tourist office and saw through the windows Linda trying to make herself as small as possible and invisible to the outside world. He burst in and spoke in passable French to the lady behind the desk. He told her straight that they had had a tiff and he was going to make it good. As a good French lady, she understood the dilemma and suggested a small café/bar down the street to sort out their differences. She also told him to leave the van with hazard lights on and she would tell the police that a tow truck was on its way, after all this matter was far more important than a broken-down lorry. Max led a sheepish Linda out onto the street and down to the bar.

“Bonjour, deux pressions s’il vous plait.”

“Linda, sit here where we won’t be disturbed,” as Max guided Linda firmly by the arm to a corner seat by a window, positioning her so that she couldn’t quite look out and be distracted.

“Look Linda, I’m really, really sorry about this afternoon. I didn’t mean to ignore you. It’s just that a neighbour came up and volunteered to show me the house. He and his wife live in the two adjoining houses. It would have been churlish to ignore him and I learned some valuable information about the property. It’s built like the proverbial Salford brick shithouse. The structure is sound but the whole place needs modernising,” Max paused for a breath as Linda looked on disinterestedly. The waitress brought two frothy glasses of beer and deposited them on two gaudy table mats with some panache and sashayed away.

“The best thing to come out of this is that our good neighbours have a guest suite which we can use until we are settled and I’ve made the place habitable. Look, I’ve seen the rooms even used the bathroom to tidy myself up. Betty said that I should, to talk you around more nicely.”

“Who’s this Betty?” asked Linda sullenly but Max brightened up since she had at last deemed to speak.

“Bob and Betty our neighbours. They’re very nice. I think back home they would be referred to as Robert and Elizabeth. He looks a Company Director sort and she’s an artist just like you. The guest suite even has its own entrance so we can be private if we want. Come on, you must have a look. I’m sure you would like it. The French windows have a super view over the river. Come on, I need to move the van it’s blocking the road if it hasn’t been towed away. I’ll just pay the bill and leave a tip,” said Max steering Linda gently by the arm towards the bar and exit. Reluctantly she allowed Max to lead her to the van which was still in place with the hazards flashing away. He helped Linda into the cab and held his thumb up to the lady in the Information Office who was standing at the window interested in the outcome of the fracas.

Linda cheered up on the way back sufficiently to ask a few questions about their neighbours and prospective landlords. As they drew up to the terrace of houses they saw much activity in their front garden. A large JCB digger was in the process of grubbing up the overgrown hedge with Bob directing the driver. Betty came out to greet Linda and Max took the opportunity to take Linda’s case out of the back of the van and carry it to the door before he returned to Bob, attending to the JCB.

“Oh, Hi Max, I hope you wont mind but Alfred here was driving past with his digger as he does twice a day and I thought it opportunistic to get the rubble cleared in front of the shed doors and now I’ve got him to grub up the old hedge so that you can see the wood from the trees, as they say. I hope I’ve done the right thing.”

“Brilliant, I expected to have to do this by hand at some stage. No, you’ve done me a favour. How much is this Albert going to charge?” asked Max feeling very pleased but a little anxious.

“Well, I hope I’ve done the right thing but I made Albert a proposition on your behalf. I hope it’s OK with you. Every morning and every afternoon he drives his digger between Milleau where he works as a subcontractor and his family farm some ten kilometres down the road here. If you allow him to park it here overnight, he’ll clear the yard for you gratis.  You will be doing him a good turn. What do you reckon?”

“Well, I’m overwhelmed, speechless in fact if you get my drift. But how is he going to get here?”

“He’s got a moped or something like that and he’ll bring that with him in the shovel tomorrow. He’s going to clear an area over there so that you can park the van off the road and a space for his digger. I would ask a favour for you to consider. Could we park our car there also? It spoils the view parking it in the lay-by there and it will be off the road.”

“I don’t see any problem in that. Just look at the surface that he’s cleared. It’s all good stone paving. With a wash down it will be good as new. This is much better than I expected and now I have access to the workshop.”

“Before you tackle that Max, let me introduce you to Albert. I believe that Betty is getting a late lunch ready for us.” After the introductions and brief discussion, it was difficult to tell who was the most delighted with the outcome, Albert or Max.

Betty and Linda where sharing a glass of white wine when Max, Bob and Albert entered the kitchen, greeted by a lovely aroma of frying onions potatoes and chorizo.

“I hope you guys don’t mind Spanish omelette for late lunch? Good,” as Betty got a unanimous nod in response. “Please clean yourselves up and we’ll eat outside in the garden, beer, red or white Max? I know Albert likes the local red. It’s a bit rough but we are getting used to it. Now Max you know the way to your quarters and Bob will see to Albert. Linda, can you take the plates and cutlery out and I’ll just put the finishing touches to the omelette,” said Betty ushering everyone along in a good, humoured way.

As they sat eating their meal and sipping their wine Max caught Linda’s eye and mouthed if all was to her liking. With a nod she acknowledged that all was fine. Albert was trying out his schoolboy English on Linda to everyone’s amusement and was explaining that his grandfather owned the farm. He was living there with his three brothers and mother and father working on the land and helping their father who also ran a building company hence the digger. He was quite amusing sitting there in his grey overalls, big brown boots and his berry pulled forward like a flat cap. After lunch Albert urged that Max open the lean to building because he and the local community were curious to see what was inside.

Max drove his van over to a cleared space before the shed and found an angle grinder from his toolbox. Bob went off to get an extension lead and Albert used his hand shovel to clear the remnants of rubble from the base of the door, exposing a band of rotten wood. The angle grinder made light work of the large rusty padlock and with the help of Albert’s shovel as a lever they managed to prise both doors open. Albert knocked down the blocking cobwebs with his shovel to reveal a huge area. The shed stretched far beyond its external walls into an extensive cavern excavated into the cliff side. On one side covered by a rotting tarpaulin was a horse drawn carriage and on the other side was a rusty steel crane on iron bogey wheels that would have run on rails. Max was delighted with the size of his new workshop; Bob was inspecting the smart wooden carriage and Albert was inspecting the crane. They were all deep in thought. Bob finally exclaimed that this was the best carriage he’d ever seen. Albert was tutting and talking to his crane, occasionally wiping a plaque with an oily rag to read the makers name whilst Max was deep in his own world pacing out his workshop and imagining his commission rising from the floor. Max was the first to speak.

‘This is far bigger than I imagined and is more than ample for my project,’ said Max with a delightful smile on his face.

‘And what’s this project that you need so much space for Max?’ asked Bob whilst Albert looked on with interest.

‘Oh, it’s large steel installation, a sculpture, that I’ve been commissioned by Grimsby Town Council to position before the Town Hall. I won a competition but I didn’t have enough space in Salford, my hometown, so I found these cheap premises in France in the upper Tarn valley.

“So, what is this sculpture going to be?” asked Bob with Albert coming close to hear the answer and Max switched to French.

“For Albert’s sake I have to explain that Grimsby was one of England’s great fishing ports that since has fallen on hard times. The Council wanted something to show its modern revival so I proposed a two-part display. One side would have a modern ship’s hull, all sleek, moored to the quayside, a businessman with his laptop briefcase, a mum pushing a modern pushchair holding up a mobile phone and a boy on a skateboard with his peak facing backward. These figures would be cut outs, silhouettes in sheet steel. On the obverse would be a rusty hulk of a trawler, showing its rotten ribs with the following figures. A fisherman in a sowester dragging a fishing net over his shoulder, a mother pushing an old-fashioned pram with a scarf over her head and rollers and then a boy in shorts, wheeling a steel hoop with a stick.”

“That is good,” sounded Albert. “Have you drawings, plan, photo maybe?”

“I can do better than that. I have a model that won me the prize and the commission. I’ll show you that when I unpack?”

“I think we would all like to see it Max,” answered Bob but Albert needs to get home to feed his cows I believe. Before he goes, I need him to help us with re-hanging your front doors. He helped me to take them off a few years ago to discourage the squatters. They are in my garden under the wood store shelter. They are heavy and we’ll need Albert’s digger.” Albert drove his digger up to the edge of the adjoining properties with the shovel raised. He attached a rope to the first door and hooked the rope to the shovel and neatly raised the door and positioned it onto the broad front terrace. All three manhandled it and with the help of Albert’s hand shovel as a lever and slipped it on its hinges. The second door was hung quickly and Albert shook hands, drove off, promising to be back next day.

“Well, that looks a lot better doesn’t it Max? The doors have kept well. A bit of a wash down and maybe a re-varnish and they’ll be as good as new. Now Max I have a favour to ask.”

“Ask away Bob. Never any harm in asking and you might even get what you want.”

“Well, it’s the carriage. Have you any plans for it? If not, then I’d love to restore it. I don’t want it but I like working with wood and it would be a nice project for me.”

“No problems there for me Bob. My only concern was how I was going to get rid of it. It seemed too good just to scrap it. Be my guest and set to. At some point I may just need all the space but we’ll make some decisions when we come to that point. Now can you tell me where I can get second hand wood and building materials on the cheap?”

“That’s easy. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the dechetterie, the local recycling plant in town. You’ll find all sorts in there. The Algerian in there is particularly keen on making use of anything the French throw away, particularly the builders who tend to dump all the materials left over after any job they do. You’ll pickup all kinds of things in new conditions even in the boxes they were bought in.”

“That’s brilliant, let’s make that firm for tomorrow,” said Max shaking Bob’s hand.

The next morning, after a leisurely breakfast Max left Linda happy with her new situation and drove to the dechetterie with Bob in tow.

“Let me introduce you to the boss here. He speaks some English but your French is good enough. He’s got an unpronounceable name so most people just call him Des. Morning Des, how are you? I’ve brought an English neighbour of mine who is doing up the large property next door. This is Max and he needs some timber sheeting can you get one of your men to show him your stock.” The stocky Algerian smiled, shook hands with Bob and Max and asked them to follow him to a shelter, stocked with all kinds of timber. Max picked out the sheet timber he needed and the labourer started pulling them out as Max went to back the van up for loading.

“Max you have a chainsaw in the back of your van,” said Des pointing to the van.

“Yes, what of it?” answered Max, curious as to why it should be mentioned.

“Well, you see that pile of laths and waste wood, could you saw it up for me into half metre pieces so that we can burn it in our bread oven and the old pensioners can collect it for kindling for their fires?” asked or pleaded Des. “We have a chainsaw but it’s broken and no one wants to use it since we had an accident with it. It will be a great favour to us and I’ll get the men to load the van for you while you do it.”

Max nodded his head thoughtfully and went to get his large chainsaw out of the van. He beckoned to Bob to give him a hand as they went over to the huge pile of wooden laths.

“We’ll have to make a rack for this as the farmers do in the Alps. It’s the only safe way of cutting this loose stuff up. Come and give me a hand dragging these railway sleepers over,” said Max and they dragged two wooden sleepers over and stacked them one on top of another. Whilst Bob was sent off to find some long nails Max dragged over six broad, sturdy floorboards and these were nailed upright, in pairs, fixed solid to the sleepers. Satisfied with his handiwork Max asked Bob to help, “Bob, we need to lay the laths lengthways in between the boards so that I can cut them. Watch out for the nails.”

The stack was complete and Max fired up his chainsaw as Des and a few other labourers came to watch. Firstly, he trimmed the ends then cut between the upright boards and a mass of short sticks fell to the ground.

“No need to tidy them up,” shouted a delighted Des, “The locals will clear them in no time. I’ll have one of my guys help you stack up the frame. Anything else you need Max?”

“Yes, I could do with some thick plastic sheeting the builders use for damp proofing if you have any and some of that wide plastic gas pipe to use as water gutters. The lead lining in my place has been ripped off long ago.”

“Plenty, I’ll get it loaded for you and you can take this chainsaw off my hands, it’s too dangerous for us to use. Don’t forget to bring your chainsaw with you when you come next time. When you have finished you are invited for a tagine with us and the stuff we’ve loaded is on the house.”

“Hey Bob, what’s with all this generosity? I’ve just cut up some scrap timber for them.”

“Ah, you don’t know the system here yet. The old folk come here daily on the bikes or mopeds and baskets, collect wood for their fires, pay for a meal and sort out the glass bottles and cans for Des. He can get better prices for them sorted and these folks have a social occasion to boot. I’ve yet to taste one of Des’s tagines though the locals seem to like them.”

“Why does he bother to have a cook here?”

“He has over twenty Algerian workmen here plus drivers. They live in those huts over there that they built themselves and they need feeding. They get accommodation free, pay for the meals and there are usually twice the number of pensioners and drivers who come to dine to subsidise the ingredients. Look the chef is collecting up the wood for his bread oven without having to break it up himself, you’ve done them all a good turn.”

On returning home Max rushed up to his apartment and found Linda missing. He rushed downstairs to face Betty in her kitchen.
 “Where’s Linda,” he asked. “She hasn’t run off again, has she?”

“Wow, slow down Max, you’ll have a heart attack. Just look out of the window.” Max rushed to the window to see Linda sitting on a folding chair by the riverside sketching quite calmly. “She’s been there the last hour or more quite contented. Come in for a drink and a chat for a few minutes. Before you go to her. Tell me, you seem to be overprotective with her. Why is that? She seems a very competent and confident girl.”

“Ah a long story I’m afraid and one of the reasons I brought her out here, out of her environment in Salford. Please don’t give or lend her any money or even send her shopping with a list. She’s recovering from a drugs problem and I don’t give her any money so she’s not tempted. Don’t even leave your handbag or purse about.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll tell Bob. Now why don’t you take out a glass of wine to Linda and tell her lunch will be ready in ten minutes. I presume you had lunch at the dechetterie. Bob took the opportunity to go with you and taste it for the first time. How was it?”

“Amazingly good. Since we did Des and the Chef Andre a good turn by chain sawing a load of sticks, we got a free meal and a free load of wood and materials. There seemed to be a load of old age pensioners eating there.”

“Yeah, Des is great. Since he took over the management of the recycling plant, he has turned it into a social service centre for old people and the Algerian immigrants. When they come to town, they are sent to Des who looks after them, feeds and houses them and they brush up their French by talking to the old folks who go for a cheap and tasty lunch and a good chat. The Authorities are happy to keep the immigrants off the streets and the old folk have a social club to go to.”

“But the Algerians can’t just stay there and grow in numbers?”

“When they get accustomed to French ways, and have earned a few bob, they move on to larger towns, mainly Paris. Here’s the wine, go and see to Linda. I presume Bob is gloating over the carriage you found in your shed?”

“Yeah, I though it would be a problem for me to dispose but Bob has taken it over and is going to restore it. Thanks Betty, I’ll be off.”

Max rushed across the road with two glasses in hand spilling the wine in his hurry to get to Linda.

“Hi there Babe, a glass of wine for you! You OK here? I like the sketch.”

“I’m fine,” answered Linda reaching out for the glass, “The light is good with lots of reflection from the white stone of the gorge. Have you been successful? You’ve been quite a time.”

“Sorry but I had to do a few jobs for them at the recycling plant, cut up some wood with a chainsaw, nothing much but for that I got a van full of wood free. Saved us a hell of a lot of money. I think the head honcho there, a guy called Des wants to reduce his stock so was quite happy to fully load the van for me.”

“What’s all the wood for?” asked Linda turning away from her drawing and looking up at Max.

“I have sufficient to make the roof waterproof and some left over to construct some staging for my sculpture. Oh, I forgot, your lunch is ready. I had some at the dechetterie, an Algerian tagine. You’ll have to go with me tomorrow and see the place. It’s quite an operation and you’ll enjoy the food.”

“I might just do that. What do you make of our neighbours? They seem to be providing us with all of our food. Are you paying for it?”

“I think they are just being neighbourly. They don’t see many English here and I think they are extremely pleased that we have taken on that building and are getting rid of the mess. Go and have your lunch and I’ll go and set up my hoist up on the roof to get my materials up there. Go on then lass.”

Max offloaded a portable hoist and managed to position it below one of the two dormer windows on the roof. He heard clapping behind him and stopped.

“That’s clever. That contraption looked too heavy to be moved by hand and you’ve got it up there by itself. Do you need a hand?”

“Thanks Bob. I’ve done this before you know. I built this hoist from the winch off an old Land Rover. They were used to pull the car out of the mud or a hole. I need to set it up in the dormer. If you want to help you can get half the joist out of the van and mind out for the nails.” With a nod to Bob he was off back up the stairs to position the hoist poking out of the dormer window. A shout from Bob below and he looked down to see him with a number of timber joists ready to haul up.

“Send up the bucket of nails up first with a claw hammer, electric rip saw and the extension lead please and stand out of the way. Thanks,” shouted Max as Bob disappeared into the van reappearing in a few moments with a full bucket which he hitched onto the hook and stood clear as they were hoisted up. Next came the timber joists, two at a time, neatly looped with the wire and hook. Max didn’t even have to explain to Bob how to do it.

“How are we going to get the sheet timber up Max?” shouted Bob.

“There’s a pickaxe in the van. Just bray a hole in a corner big enough for the hook to go through and loop it as before.” Again, no detailed explanation needed thought Max. It was only going to be a temporary repair anyway. Without much fuss all twenty sheets were hauled up.

“Do you need any help up there Max? I’ll come up,” said Bob and started up the stairs without waiting for a reply. When he got to the top Max had already measured out the position of the secondary joists beneath the main roof joists and marked them with a spray can.

“Oh, I should have brought the extension lead up for you,” said Bob feeling rather foolish.

“No worries, I have a power take off on the hoist. Can you help me with measuring out the first support? Once we get that right we just cut a series of copies,” said Max as he lifted up a timber and rested it against the back wall.

“That should be about right,” and he marked the length of with the spray can, cut it and the rest of the timber beams to match. They quickly positioned the joist resting against the back wall then held them in place with the sheets of blockboard, roughly nailed. A waterproof layer of plastic was stapled on top making the house rainproof. The only job left was to split the gas pipes to form temporary gutters.

“Hey Max, I thought this job would take you all week and we are nearly finished. You must have thought this through.”

“Sure thing Bob. I don’t want to waste time on gash timber work, so I get a picture of what I want to achieve and plan it in the simplest way.”

“Well, I’m impressed.”

“Betty is indicating that we should clean up and prepare for dinner.”

“OK, nearly finished.”

By the time Max had cleaned up he found Linda, Bob and Betty across the road by the riverside. They waved for him to come over. As he was crossing the road Arnold was driving along with his digger and pulled into the area he’d cleared. Bob called him over to join them.

“It’s lovely out here Max,” shouted Betty. “Come and have a drink and some tapas we have prepared. I hope Arnoldwill join us. He’s the mine of information in the locality. He does odd jobs around the town and picks up all the gossip and information. Arnold, come and join us.”

Max sat next to Linda who seemed more than happy and offered him a plate of nibbles as Bob poured out a large glass of beer.

“I hear you have been busy, busy,” said Linda for all to hear but aimed at Max.

“Aye, we did a grand job between us and the house is water tight and will be weatherproof when I replace the glass.”

“None of my doing,” replied Bob. “All I did was hand out the nails and watched in wonder as a secondary roof took shape. Max did all the work and I was the useless gofer.”

“No, you were a great help. I couldn’t have got on so well without you Bob. By the way Arnold, where do I get glass around here?”

“From me,” said Arnoldproudly pointing to his chest. “I’ll bring glass and things tomorrow and fix all windows for you. When you fix roof Max you need to insulate good. This much,” said Arnoldholding his hands about ten centimetres apart. “I get you good insulation.”

“Thanks Arnold but how does one get the services here? Drainage, water, electricity, phone and all that?”

“All facilities on roadside in trench under road. This Lotvalley is, how do you say it, beauty spot. No pylons allowed; all has to be underground. I dig trench for you and get council men to fix water, sewers, electricity, phone, gas at one time, OK? I know men at offices.”

“That would be great, good to have you around to help.”

“Hey Arnold,” piped in Linda, “Why hasn’t anybody lived in that house for a long time. It seems too nice to be left to go to rack and ruin.”

“Long story. House belongs to great General from Paris. He rented it but people didn’t stay long. House is haunted they said. Saw ghosts of Algerian prisoners of war. Prisoners used to work here in factories, on land and farms. I think noises come from wind in the slates when roof not insulated.”

“Well thank for the warning, I’ll be on the look out for them. Good job Linda doesn’t believe in ghosts, do you Linda?” asked Max looking at Linda who had horror on her face. “I suppose that’s why no one wanted to buy it.”

“Squatters didn’t mind ghosts. They stay long, long time until Council boss turfed them out. No hygiene,” said Arnold. “Now all Algerians live in dechetterie. You have been there Max. Good food. You angel Max for cutting wood for ovens and old people.”

“Can I come with you tomorrow, Max?” said Linda. “I need to see this place. It sounds like a village.”

“Hey guys, it’s getting cool out here,” said Betty, “You all come inside, I have a large lasagne in the oven. You’ll come too Arnold!”

“Sorry, sorry but mother, the boss, says I have to be early. Visitors come, family.” Arnold got up, finished his beer and drove off on his moped.

Next morning after a late breakfast Max took Linda in the van to the dechetterie and introduced her to Des. Whilst Linda inspected the kitchens, Max had to get his chainsaw and cut up another stack of wood. He then went through the stores of reclaimed material, noting down what he would require in the future and setting aside materials and furniture next to his van. This included boxes of switches and reels of electric cable, pot basins, taps, toilets and a number of assorted chairs and tables. He eventually found what he was looking for, a huge bedstead in good condition. A workman showed him where an assortment of bedheads were stacked and he chose a splendidly carved one that caught his fancy.

On enquiring about a large wardrobe Des told him that there were a lot in town in good condition but people needed someone to dismantle them and cart them off for free. People didn’t want these huge pieces of furniture anymore but weren’t prepared to pay good money to have them trucked away. He would find some good ones for Max with his van and went off to quiz the old folks who had come to collect their kindling and get a good meal. Before Des went off Max asked how and where did he pay for the pile of items he had collected? Des took one look and said fifty-two Euros, gave him a chitty, to pay the man at the gate. He stated that fifty-two Euros sounded calculated.

Happy with his collection of goods at an incredible bargain price he went off in search of Linda. There she was, wearing an apron, serving dishes of lamb tagine to the old folk that couldn’t manage to serve themselves at the counter. She came over, kissed Max and told him to join the queue and get two portions with extra couscous that she proudly said she had made and that she would join him shortly. Max carried his tray of food to a table and waved to Linda to show where they were to sit and Des came to join them with a huge plateful.

“I have found you a selection of wardrobes or armoires as they are called and the locals are only too pleased to have you come and take them away. Don’t forget they are huge and please don’t disappoint these folks by turning up and refusing to take them off their hands.”

“I won’t. I presume this is the list of addresses. If I don’t use them, I’ll have a use for the wood. Now let’s tuck into this food, it smells delicious. Hey Linda, come and join us before yours gets cold.”

“Before you go Max, can you have another go with your chainsaw. One of my men has stacked it up for you. And another thing,you seem mechanically minded, can you have a look at our crusher? We can’t see what’s wrong with it and the repair man can’t get out here for at least two weeks. It’s all the bureaucracy that’s holding it up at the Mairie. We do a good trade in sands and gravels, but the building waste is piling up into mountains and I don’t really want to take it to the landfill site. It costs money and we make a lot from the crushed stuff.”

“I’ll have a look but can’t promise.”

“Thanks. The diesel engine works but stalls when we turn on the transmission.”

Linda went off to help with the clearing up and serving coffee to the old gentlemen who seemed to enjoy a delectable English lady serving them even though she only had a smattering of French and no Algerian. Max caught her eye and indicated he was going out for a while and got his chainsaw out for another session on making kindling out of waste wood. He then sauntered over to the crusher which was set up against a rotary grader which divided the crushed material into fine sand, coarse sand, gravel and larger rocks or hard core for groundwork as a base. He soon found the problem and with his acetylene torch he cut away a length of steel reinforcement bar that had twined around the bearings.

“He Max, you’ve fixed it. What was the problem?” shouted Des above the noise of the engine and rotating crushers. Max slid the transmission lever and stopped the engine.

“One of the steel rods in concrete I presume had twisted itself around one of the spindles and jammed the whole thing up. I suggest you break up the reinforced concrete and remove the steel before you feed the concrete into the crusher. Arnold who comes here with his digger has one of those hammer chisel attachments that can do the job for you.”

“I think we have one of those ourselves but I’ll get Arnoldto teach my lads how to do it safely,” answered Des very pleased with the outcome. “Let me have a list of things you might need for your house and I’ll get the men to find a selection for you, and before you go can you do the chainsaw thing again. Ali has stacked it up again for you and the old folks are coming in droves to eat and cart the kindling away. You and Linda are their heroes at the moment.”

When Linda and Max returned to their house, they found Arnoldalready glazing the widows and waving to them from the dormer with a sheet of cut glass in one hand ready to be fitted.

“Linda, can you borrow some brushes from Betty and help me to sweep out one of the downstairs rooms that I can use for storage so that I can empty the van into it.”

As Linda nodded and went off, Max climbed the stairs to greet Arnoldand inspect his handiwork. All seemed well and the glazed widows immediately stopped the wind whistling through the house. On coming downstairs, he found Betty and Linda busy sweeping and Bob shovelling the debris into a barrow for disposal. Already a quarter of the room had been cleared.

“Do you want us to mop the floor for you,” asked Linda.

“No need, I’ll use this room as a workshop and storeroom initially but since you as such busy bees I’d like the hall and the other front room cleared so that I can check the state of the parquet.”

“There’s no parquet left Max. It was burned up by the squatters long ago. The concrete base is just covered in grime of the ages plus all the plaster from the ceilings plus a good covering of bird and bat droppings,” piped in Bob.

“Right, well that saves me taking it up. I’ll have to check with Des if he gets any parquet in at the dechetterie?”

“Hey Max, you can put in under floor heating and tile covering,” volunteered Arnold bringing down a container of waste glass cuttings and a tool bag. “Far easier to lay and manage than parquet. I’ve finished the glazing and I’ll send you the bill. It won’t be much. All the glass came from other jobs. You need to set fires in the grates to get a good draught through to air the place and get rid of the damp and smells.”

“Thanks Arnold, I appreciate that. Before you go can you give me a hand to unload the van? I now have somewhere safe to store it and I’ll need the van for materials for my sculptures. What’s the best way to get to Clermont Ferrand? I need to get my steel sheeting from there from a steel factory where they are going to cut it up for me to my specifications.”

“No problem, Max. Bob and I can take you,” volunteered Betty. “We go there occasionally for shopping and it’s time we went again. We can take Linda into town with us whilst you carry out your business. Much easier in a car than your van and we could do with a day out couldn’t we Bob?”

“Well, that’s mighty kind of you. I need to get started on getting materials ordered because it may take some time to cut and, in the meantime, I can get on and make this habitable. Arnold said he would cut the trench to the road tomorrow so that all the services can be connected. Once I have those in then I’ll be able to start my project work in earnest and not rely on your good will.”

They drove the next day through pleasant countryside even though it was along a major motorway and reached the factory of ADJ Ferro well before noon. Max had phoned ahead to make an appointment and in the trunk of the car was a model of the installation that Max was going to construct for Grimsby. Bob and Betty had admired it and were amazed at its ingenuity. Whilst Bob and Betty swept Linda off to the shops Max was escorted to the conference room where he was going to meet the Directors and hopefully, they would provide him with a keen price for the work.

The presentation lasted for fifteen minutes and included a five-minute video introduction to the past and present history of Grimsby, in French. This was followed by a graphic presentation of his sculpture with a short artistic video plus a close inspection of the model he had brought. The third part of the presentation was the technical side and on the screen he displayed most of the items that would have to be laser cut, fabricated and the steel surface treaded in different ways. The final element if his presentation was that the name of ADJ Ferro would be prominently displayed on the brass plaque and on any accompanying literature plus the fact that the project had been entered for an international competition. It all went down very well he thought as he handed over the technical literature and a memory stick with the CADCAM details that could be transferred directly to the computer for the machining process.

He was taken out by the Directors to a sumptuous lunch in business tradition. A quick phone call to Bob and he was picked up and ferried back home telling them all about his experience. Betty asked why he had chosen this particular company and Max replied that he had selected ADJ Ferro since they had the most up to date steel cutting equipment of the selected companies and were three of fifteen that had bothered to reply. Linda was happy with the day, her art material purchases and visit to a number of art galleries.

On returning home they found the drive dug up and Harold laying protective steel plates over the service trench that he had dug from the road to the large lean-to workshop. He told them that having the trench dug the authorities had no excuse but to come and do their work though he admitted that it might be a few weeks before he could backfill and reposition the stone paving slabs which had been numbered and stacked.

Bob and Betty insisted that Max show them the presentation video and the artistic impression of the project. They were most impressed particularly the short video he showed them that he produced for a successful Lottery Funding Grant application.

The next day Max got down to serious work of setting out the outline of his project on the floor of the workshop and fixing a wooden staging so that he could set the steel structure off the concrete floor and easily fix wooden supports as needed. Alongside Bob was busy with a brush and vacuum cleaner getting the dust and grime off the carriage when Arnold burst in.

“Max need to ask something. The Council is repairing the road banking that was swept away by the flooding last year. I have contract to backfill the hole behind their stone wall. It’s three kilometres up the valley. You have lots of rubble here. I clear away for you. Make parking bigger and saves me money. You say yes?”

“I wish you would speak in French but help yourself to as much as you need. How many trucks do you think you can get here?”

“Plenty and enough for the fill, otherwise I would have to travel twenty kilometres to get quarry waste and they would expect me to pay. This will do you a favour and I may be able to clear enough for a garden for Linda to grow vegetables.”

“When are you going to start this Arnold?”

“I’ll arrange the lorry tomorrow and first I’ll remove all the trees and bushes. I’ll bring my machine which will shred them up and the lorry will take them to the dechetterie for composting so you won’t be left with any rubbish. I’ll make a good job for you.” With a shake of hands to seal the deal he was off on his moped into town.

“What do you make of that Bob?”

“Just enterprising I imagine. If you look carefully through the bushes, you can make out a large stone archway that has been bricked up. I think that probably led into underground quarry for stone. Makes me think that this was once an underground quarry works with your substantial building housing the manager or owner and the six smaller cottages housing the workers. When Arnoldclears all the rubbish and rocks away then we’ll have a clearer idea. Do you remember what it said on your deeds for the property?”

“On the plan I own the house and the triangular section that leads to the road sign over there plus the land on top of the cliff that goes back to the top of the hill it seems. I don’t know how far that is. I’ll have to clamber up and check if there’s a fence or something up there.”

“I’ll come with you when you go. It might be wise to take your chainsaw up. I understand that there was some mention in the deeds that it was our responsibility to coppice the trees up there so that rocks don’t fall on the road or for that matter on our roofs. I don’t know what coppicing does to stop the rocks falling.”

“They probably lay the cut branches and logs between the stumps and they will stabilise the slope. That’s what I imagine. When was the last time that was done? Are you aware?”

“Sorry Max but I haven’t given it a though. We’ve been here five years and no one has mentioned it. I’ll check with our neighbours. They have been living here much longer.”

“By the way, who are our neighbours? I haven’t seen much sign of them apart from parked cars.”

“The end house accommodates two teachers, the next is a lady who runs a shop in town, then there’s a couple who work for the council. The house or two houses joined like ours, next to us houses a family. Older two boys and father work in town and the mother is a nurse at the hospital. They are all very nice. The accommodation is not conducive for small children, being next to the road and river. I’ll get Betty to arrange a get together and introduce you. We do that once or twice a year. In fact it’s through these parties we arrange initially that these people have even met each other. They didn’t know their neighbours. Seems a French thing not to bother with neighbours. We have never been invited to their houses at all even though they’ve been to ours plenty.”

Early next morning they were woken up to a noisy lorry parking up followed by a battered car full of Algerian workmen plus Arnoldarriving with a tractor towing a large industrial shredder. Arnold was the boss and arranged the workers. The shredder was positioned to fire its debris directly into the lorry. Arnold was to grub up the bushes and trees and the men were to drag and feed them into the shredder, chain sawing any large trees into manageable size. The noise was appalling. Betty decided to take Linda into town and Max took Bob to the dechetterie to get out of the way.

By the time they all got back all the vegetation had been cleared and trucked away, the larger trunks cut into metre long logs and stacked to dry and Harold was now filling the truck with rubble. Thankfully it was much quieter. The job lasted three days and Max was left with a large, cleared expanse fully paved so a kitchen garden was out of the question. All the rubble had been removed up to the cliff side and now exposed a magnificent stone arch which had probably been the entrance to the underground quarry. The arch had been filled in with rough stonework. The whole place now had a stark industrial look to it. All the soft lines of the trees and bushed had disappeared. Max immediately planned to plant some trees around the perimeter to improve the sight of his domain. He was quickly introduced to his neighbours who wanted to park their vehicles there and off the roadside. Max was accommodating.

It was three weeks before the steel factor replied with a detailed quotation of the work that Max required. The sum was high but he was delighted to see that at the foot of the bill was a heavy discount. Having checked on the size and number of steel sheets that had been listed for cutting Max checked his own calculation and found that the steel factor was not very economical with the cutting process. There were at least five sheets over on his calculations. When he contacted the company, he was put through to the design department to the Director he had met and raised his concerns. The Director dismissed Max’s issue as trivial and even let slip that they had modified some of Max’s shapes and sizes to fit the cutting patterns. Max was not to be fobbed off so easily and emailed them a copy of his cutting patterns based on sheet size and insisted that they stick to his original shapes. This took another week of to-ing and fro-ing before agreement was reached. When Max asked when they would start the cutting, he was informed that they first had to have a signed contract, a substantial deposit and the balance in a French bank account before they would even schedule the work.

Max had already arranged a bank in Francebut the company insisted on the monies being in a specific bank and that would take Max another two weeks to be set up. When he inquired as to how long they would take to complete the whole process they remarked that since this was low priority they couldn’t forecast accurately. Max was not impressed but managed to get them to commit to two months from handover of deposit and regular stage payments.

It was a month before Max was ready to pay the deposit and, in the meantime, requested a new contract stating explicitly the time scale that they had agreed. There was another week’s delay in receiving a new contract. On perusing the papers carefully Max found that the discount had disappeared and a new exorbitant charge for transport had been added. It took another week of hassle for the contract to be amended and finally signed by Max and courier delivered to ADJ Ferro in Clermont Ferrand.

Fortunately, Max had the sense to hold back his deposit because the company had again amended the contract insisting on not releasing any of the finished articles until the whole job had been completed. Max had no option but to cancel the whole job and start his search again for another steel factor.

Whilst all this was going on behind the scenes everything at home was rosy. Most evenings a gathering would take place on the paved terrace outside his unfinished dwelling. A group of neighbours and friends would gather around Betty and Linda and they would converse in English, sipping their wines and devouring tasty tapas, whilst the men folk would gather around a barbecue, drink beer, grill chicken wings, drumsticks and talk in French. Unfortunately, an assistant from Nottingham University, teaching English at one of the local schools would join the men to brush up her French and temper their bawdy jokes. Even Des would frequently turn up with the excuse he had brought something for Max for the house. Arnold and his brother Christof were also regulars. Christof especially since he was soft on Carol the English girl.

In the upstairs workshop Linda was sitting next to Betty watching how she was fashioning a golden pendant. She was meticulously working on the mounting which was going to hold a large fine opal. Every few minutes Betty would hold the opal to the fixing to check the mounting and continue her painstaking work. Linda watched with awe at the artistry. Their concentration was broken by a pan being noisily banged, from down below.

“Come on girls!” shouted Bob. “The steaks are ready and waiting for you. We did them on the Barbie with lots of hazel wood so the taste will be terrific. Come on down. Max is just slicing them up for us. Don’t want to let them get cold.” Linda immediately rose from her stool, being hungry, and descended the stairs, Betty followed a few minutes later.

“Right, best steak and chips on the menu ladies, sit down and tuck in,” said Max sharing out slices of blue steak on each plate. “The sommelier should be pouring the wine once he can get the cork out of the bottle. Help yourself to chips. This is the steak that Arnoud brought us, butchered at his farm a month ago so it’s been well hung. Being the head chef, I had to try some and it’s heavenly!” Max sat down opposite Linda and cut up a baguette whilst the rest were helping themselves to the chips and locally made grainy mustard.

“Hey, it is good,” announced Linda giving Max the thumbs up. “I used to eat my steak the British way, done to death and like hardboard until Max introduced me to this French way. By the way that was only by accident. We ran out of gas whilst Max here was frying and I was so hungry I could have eaten a dead horse wedged between two straw mattresses as the say in Geordie.”

“It’s a long time since I heard that expression,” answered Betty. “I got into it when Bob insisted on taking us to fine dining restaurants.”

“Hey Linda, how did you get on with Betty?” asked Max.

“Great. Betty is ever so skilful. I wouldn’t have the patience.”

“Don’t forget I’ve been doing this a long time,” said Betty. “I did art school and when the kids were at school, I made up jewellery in the spare time I had. With practice I got onto the finer stuff and people liked my work hence the commissions. This opal piece I’m working on will bring me in three thousand at least.”

“You should see the size of the opal,” said Linda. “That’s worth a grand plus on its own.

They finished their meal with some smelly local cheese accompanied with a bottle of fine red Burgundy and Betty excused herself saying that she needed to tidy up her work upstairs before she was too tipsy. Three minutes later she shouted for Linda to come up and help. Five minutes later Betty shouted down for Bob to come up and help. Max followed and found both Betty and Linda on her knees searching the floor.

“We have lost the opal,” said Betty. “I left it on the bench and we can’t find it anywhere. Can you lads move the bench out of the way? It might have slipped underneath.” Max and Bob lifted the heavy bench to one side, the looked, searched again but no Opal could be found. Betty then faced Linda and said, “Where did you see it last?”

“Hey, don’t accuse me. I left before you did. I didn’t steal it. It’s no use to me,” said Linda defensively, looking at Max for support.

“Let’s not get our knickers in a twist,” said Max looking pointedly at Linda. “It’s bound to turn up. We will just have to search harder. Now Betty, where did you see it last?”

“Hey, stop looking at me like that. I didn’t take it. I didn’t even like it!” shouted Linda and stomped off downstairs in disgust.

“Look, I’ll go and talk to her and calm her down. I’m sure it will be found. You folks keep looking,” said Max as he followed Linda downstairs to their apartment. Linda was in the bedroom looking very cross.

“Why is everybody accusing me?” shouted Linda grabbing a holdall from the cupboard. “What would I do with a bloody opal? It’s no bloody use to me. How the hell could I convert it to cash? I’m leaving Max. Get me a ticket home! I’ve had enough of this place. And every bloody bugger is going to be looking at me. Search me Max! I haven’t got it. I want to leave now!”

“Calm down, calm down.”

“You can’t stop me. Just pack my stuff and let me get out of here now!” shouted Linda for all to hear.

“OK, OK, I’ll take you to the airport and ensure you get a flight home. I’ll text your mum that you are coming and she’ll meet you at the airport.”

“Why are you packing your stuff?”

“Well, I can’t stay here now that you have poisoned the atmosphere. The house is liveable in now. I can camp there. You go to the van and I’ll let them know the situation.”

***************

Sunday

My dearest darling Linda,

I miss you so much. I spoke to your mum and she said that you arrived safely. She said that you had booked an appointment at the dole office. Please tell them you had a job in Franceand it didn’t work out. It will help your case.

Please email me and let me know what you are up to. Please stay at your mum’s. Don’t get back to that old crowd that led you astray. By coming here, you broke the habit. I know that. You were back to your old self. Your drawings and paintings are fantastic. I shall keep them to remind me of you for the moment. I’m counting on you coming back so that we can support each other in our ventures.

Let me tell you my good luck. On the way back after leaving you I called in on a steel factor in Rodez. Fortunately, I had all my stuff in the back. It’s smaller than the other place and not got the modern equipment like laser cutters but I got a fabulous reception when I showed them my model. Pascal the son of the owner got quite excited and called in his father who called in half a dozen of their design team and I gave them my presentation in French, would you believe it? Whilst the design team were studying my drawings, the father, head of the firm, took me aside and told me that they were precision engineers, forming steel frameworks not only for bog standard warehouses but also for architectural buildings. They had never done anything like I was proposing but would love to do it. It would be a show piece for the firm.

The designers were gabbling ten to a dozen and I couldn’t understand what they were intimating until Pascal brought them under control. In good English he explained that the drawings were for exact laser cutting and then welding which was not only time consuming but a costly business. They couldn’t do that he said but if I modified the design slightly, they could do it at fraction of the price.

One of the designers, who spoke very good English, showed me a sketch that he had drawn on the computer. He had substituted the main skeletal features of the boat for bog standard steel hollow girders. He said that they could bend them into any shape I wanted and they would look exactly like the ones on my plans. I stated that one side needed to be like rotten wood ribs and he answered that they could easily distress these beams to my liking, even crease and split them to look like wood. I got quite excited. Asking how quickly they could do the task they stated that they would give it to their gang of apprentices under the guidance of Pascal and they would work at it full time.

This all seemed too good to be true so I asked Pascal if he would redesign it using the new materials and give me a costing. The father took me to one side and informed me that for such a prestigious task he would only charge for materials. Wow! The apprentices in France are funded by the State. I’m waiting for them to send me the new cadcam drawings and an estimate of the cost. I’ll write again when I get the reply.

I do miss you terribly my dearest darling and would have loved you to share my good fortune. Do write or Email. Even phone. I’d love to hear from you. Say Hi to your mum.

Lot of love Max XXXXXX

Wednesday

My dearest darling Linda,

When are you going to write, Email or phone me? I miss you so much. Please, please get in touch babe!

I’ve had a spare five days or so whilst I was waiting for a reply from Rodez. More on that later.

With spare time on my hands, I’ve been busy, busy on the house, especially your room that you have designated as a studio. The back wall was damp and smelly so I knocked it down with the intention of fixing the damp and rebuilding. Instead I found a sizeable void which I extended. You will like this….I’m converting it into a special bathroom just for you. I’ve dug it out further, damp roofed it with waterproof plaster and now it’s a domed alcove big enough to fit all the bathroom paraphernalia.

Some time ago I unearthed a broken marble bath at the dechetterie. I’ve sealed it up and made the joint look like normal marbling. To make it look better I’ve added a few more cracks. You’ll love it when you see it. Des has found me lots of marble pieces and that will be the floor once I’ve got the plumbing done. In the domed ceiling I’ve set in some fairy lights so that at night it looks like a starry sky. I’ve painted it pale blue as a canvas for you to add whatever you like. You’re so good at that. I’ve found an old bread basin and that will be your sink. Even I’m impressed or will be when it’s finished by the end of the week.

Now let me tell you some more good news. Pascal and one of his apprentices arrived this morning in a small van. He not only brought the contract but some pieces that the lads have been practicing on. The price is unbelievably low and he suggested that they should assemble it at the works rather than transporting bits up here. They also calculated the whole weight and reckon that it will fit on a low loader for transport up to Grimsby as a whole. That will save me poots of work and I have spare cash for the transport.

The pieces that the lads had made were the silhouettes of the figures. They made them from bits of scrap steel sheets just spot welded together. They are brill. I’ve included a photo for you. The small gaps between the sheets just add something to the figures, particularly the old ones. Just inspect the fisherman with his nets. Far better than my design. I’m going to incorporate some things like that in my installation. They also brought some boat ribs for my approval. I thought they were wood when I first looked but they are of steel. There’s knots, grain, cracks and signs of rotting wood. I didn’t know one could do that easily in steel. I now have work to do on the detail of the so-called wooden side of the trawler incorporating all these new features that they can reproduce. I’ve fallen on my feet. They have invited me to go more often to watch and check progress.

Back to home. Everyone is missing you and wanting you back especially the old folks at the dechetterie. They reckon that you make the best tagines and couscous. Even the chef wants you back to learn your secret.

Darling Linda, please don’t cut me off like this without a word. Say the word and I’ll fly to collect you. I miss you so much. I want you to see your finished studio.. not long now.

Lots of love and kisses

Max XXXXXX

Thursday

My dearest darling Linda,

Something extraordinary has happened here. I’m dying to tell you. I wish you were here to see and also view with wonder your new studio and bathroom. Please, please get in touch with me. It’s lonely without you. You were always so supportive of my ventures.

Let me tell you what happened yesterday. I returned home from Rodez and we, Des, Arnold, Bob and me were having drinks and tapas on the front. I think we drank too much because Des pointed out the bats flying in and out of a gap between the high arch and the cliff. Somebody said we should investigate and stupidly I said I would climb up and see. We were all curious what the old quarry was like.

I climbed up the stonework. It was quite easy, with a rope and made fast around a thick tree growing in the cleft above the arch. Bob brought out a lantern on a long extension cable and I pulled it up and shone it through the gap which I had made larger by removing some of the loose stones. The cavern was vast behind but there were suspicious looking bundles of clothing scattered about on the floor.

I shouted down that I was going to investigate in the cavern so I pulled the rope up, dangled it down the other side and abseiled down with the light. I got a real shock when I shone the light on these bundles. They were clothes, now disintegrating, covering skeletons. What a fright!

Like a shot I was out climbing up the rope, hand over hand as if the devil himself was after me. Fortunately, I had left the light shining on one of the skeletons. Having told the others, Bob phoned the police and explained what we had found. They were a bit sceptical at first and sent over a traffic cop to investigate. By this time, we had tied a couple of ladders together that got halfway up and the poor cop managed to climb up and nearly fell off when he saw what was in the cavern.

About twenty police cars turned up plus two ambulances. Bit late for those. Whilst they were discussing what to do Arnold and I got my masonry disc saw out and started cutting a man-sized hole through the rough stonework of the lower arch. The stone came away easily. Just then the firemen turned up and started getting their ladders out. By this time, we had exposed a wooden door and I cut through this like butter. The Chief of Police rushed through followed by the ambulance men. I don’t know why! They came out all white and shaken. The Chief was on the phone for twenty minutes and told us that this was a crime scene and the place was cordoned off with tape. They left one police car on guard.

He joined us as we opened another bottle of wine and we managed to persuade him that we could go and have a look see ourselves, also to retrieve Bob’s lantern. We were curious as hell. We got some torches and went in. There were sufficient footprints in the cavern that a few more of ours wouldn’t matter. After spotting at least fifteen corpses or skeletons we left with Bob’s lantern and opened another bottle of wine for courage.

The cop who was of a local family told us that a French retired General from the Foreign Legion had opened a quarry there using Algerian prisoners of war. His dad had told him that the conditions were brutal and that every now and again a riot broke out with shots being fired. He assumed that the General had had enough, locked the wooden gates, built up the arch in stone and the prisoners had died of starvation. We opened another couple of bottles just to sooth our minds.

The investigation is on-going and the press are camped on the other side of the road. We found out from locals that they had witnessed some Algerian prisoners blocking off the arch and everyone assumed that the workers had been sent back to some prison, not trapped in the cave. The General has since died. Will tell you more later, as the issue unfolds.

Now for some nicer news. Your studio is wonderful if not amazing. Betty wants me to do the same for her. The room now comprises two huge, fabulous armoires which I have lovingly restored plus a huge work bench, a chaise longue and of course your fabulous bathroom which steals the show. You will love it. Please contact me, I feel very isolated.

Lots of love darling Linda

Max XXXXXX

Wednesday

My darling Linda,

I’ve been in touch with your mum and she tells me you don’t want to see me again and don’t want to have anything to do with me. This saddens me because we had such a lovely time together. I can’t help thinking that you are making too much of this incident. Even Betty is asking about you daily and is embarrassed by any implication she might have had about your involvement. She has gone through this a hundred times and each time she sees you going downstairs while she tidies up so you couldn’t have taken the opal. There was no opportunity for you to do so. Please accept her deepest apology in implicating you in the first instance.

Do contact me and we can talk through this. I can’t believe you are just walking out on me. I have always supported you through thick and thin and you can continue to count on me. Please call.

Not a lot happening here on the cavern front other than hoards of forensic scientist blocking up the road. One thing that has come up is that a few years ago when the squatters were in residence, they made an awful noise trying to break something metallic. Bob went in and discovered that they were trying to break into a safe. He wheeled it out and stuck it out of sight under his woodpile. He remembered it and I broke it open with my grinder. Inside was full of records and accounts. The police have got these and are examining them. There is hope that they might discover who the people were and inform their families. Inside the cavern the police tell me there are stacks of worked stone and some of the schist roof tiles that I will need to repair our roof.

I’m getting daily Emails from Rodez with pictures showing progress on my installation. I think the apprentices are getting carried away with cutting silhouettes. They are doing them in their own time and have set up a dozen school children walking up the factory drive. It’s the talk of the town.

Our bedroom now displays a huge four poster that I have constructed out of lovely pieces of antique wood that has accumulated in the deschetterie. I think the headboard has been salvaged from some abandoned church. I have a set of three choir stalls, the ones that monks used to perch on and when the dozed off the seats used to fall down making a clatter and embarrassing the poor monk. Don’t know if you would like them in the bedroom or the lounge where they would make an interesting talking point. You can choose when you come back.

Please come back. I will send you a ticket to cover air fare and trains to the airport. Just say when.

I still love you dearly. I will come and collect you if you would like. I know you are quite independent but think of the wonderful time we had and could have here. Your artwork was coming along in leaps and bounds. I hope you are still keeping it up. We all miss you here.

Lots of love my dearest Linda.

Max XXXXXXX

Monday

My dearest, darling Linda,

Astounding news today. I called your mother immediately and asked her to tell you. You know that Betty has been pestering me daily about news from you and when I was going to do a makeover for her studio like I did for yours.

I cleared out the alcove to knock the back wall down but couldn’t easily move her bench. I got Bob to give me a hand. We lifted the bench between us and as we moved it Bob tripped backwards and the bench dropped with an enormous clatter. Guess what? On the floor was the opal. It must have slipped down and caught in a crack or crevice in the old bench and was dislodged when we dropped it.

Of course, Betty is mortified that we even thought that you might have had it. This whole incident has got totally out of hand. Please accept all apologies and do come back to a normal life here with me. The house is ready to accept you. I had a number of large couches reupholstered in natural leather and not only do they look great, they are also comfortable. I went to a salvage yard in Rodez and found a huge TV. Des found someone to repair it and it works like new. A new top box and you can now watch Casualty, your favourite. Also picked up a DVD player. We are all set up for a restart of our life together.

Please, please get in touch. I miss you so much.

Lots of love dearest Linda. Hurry back!!!

Max XXXXXXXXXXXX

Sunday,

What good news my dearest Linda. Phoned your mum and she told me the fantastic news that you were considering coming home to France. I’ve sent the airfare to your mum and she’s going to buy you your tickets at the local travel agency. I shall be waiting for you at the airport. Give me a call please.

I’m having the house spruced up for your arrival by some professional cleaners. You know how bad my housework is! Everything is working perfectly. I’ve checked out the under-floor heating and had to open all the windows because it was so hot. I’m working on the roof now. Put down a thick layer of insulation topped with a waterproof membrane and the schist slabs will be fixed on top with bronze nails. The police have allowed me to take some out of the cavern. We will be snug as bugs in a rug!

The forensics tell me they will be finished soon. Bob and Arnoud reckon that I should open it as a ghoulish museum. I’m more inclined to brick it up. The Chief of Police suggests that they put a strong door in since the relatives might want to visit. I don’t know. Out of sight out of mind. I might just take the quarried stone out and sell it. Arnoud says it will fetch a good price. We will see.

The installation is coming on a pace. I’ve sent Grimsby Town Council the plan of the concrete base I will need. They still want to put it on a round about but I’d rather it was in a park or somewhere in the town centre. I think it would be too much of a distraction for drivers. I also want people to touch and walk around it and also to admire it! Big head me!! Don’t forget you had some input into it. Your name will be on the brass plaque as co-sculptress!! Fame at last. Rodez has been a game changer for me. I didn’t know before how flexible and pliable steel can be in the right hands. These guys are really skilful.

Less of me and more about you. I bought some sheets and bedding yesterday whilst in Rodez and silly me finds it too small for our huge four-poster. Will have to try again before you arrive. I have still left lots of thing for you to decide and give the place a homely feel. We could do with some of your large paintings to go on the walls. Des has given me lots of huge picture frames that nobody wants anymore. Some are really fabulous and will restore beautifully.

Linda, I’m so excited that you have decided to come back to me. Please don’t delay. I was on the point of dropping everything here and coming over to the UK to sort things out. This is the best outcome. If living in France doesn’t work out, we can move on. Local estate agents have been around offering me good valuations. They believe I’m doing it up for resale, as if.

Lots of love. Come quickly darling.

Max XXXXXXXXXXXX

A few days later, after he had sent the letter, Max got a text from Linda’s mum, ‘She’s taken the money. You shouldn’t have pestered so! She took an overdose and is in hospital this morning.’

Max immediately Texted that he would be on the first flight back to Manchester. He immediately packed and booked on the late flight out of Clermont Ferrand. Bob drove him there. Whilst Max tried to locate the Hospital that Linda had been admitted. It took a while but, in the end, he managed to persuade a receptionist to check her data base.

On arrival in Manchesterjust after midnight, he caught a cab to the hospital and again had to persuade a doctor to at least view Linda through the corridor window into her private intensive care room. Once the doctor had left the nurse let him in to hold her hand for a few moments. The nurse read her notes and interpreted for Max that Linda had only survived because she was young and physically fit. Max had to leave after five minutes because the doctors on duty didn’t allow patients, particularly drug patience to have visitors in the intensive care wards.

The friendly nurse took pity on Max who was in a state and allowed him to sleep on a trolley bed in a corridor until six in the morning and no later since the main morning shift would be arriving. He would have to bide his time in the waiting room and register with the morning Receptionist. Linda’s Mum arrived at eight but would not have anything to do with Max and created a scene. Max sat in the corridor waiting, second best, for any report on Linda. By midday there was no news and her Mum left without informing the Receptionist or Max.

Max took it on himself to get the receptionist to arrange a meeting with Linda’s Consultant to appraise himself of her state of health. He had to wait another four hours until the Consultant was free and then only a meeting on the corridor. The consultant, Mrs. Honister informed Max that Linda was in an induced coma until her body functions settled to as normal as possible. She also informed him to his horror that Linda had suffered a stroke, the severity of which would be known when she came out of her coma. She advised Max to go home, rest, and she would text him when it was feasible to visit.

Catching a bus to Salford, Max walked half a mile to Linda’s house hoping to talk to her mother. The walk gave him time to settle his mind. It wasn’t his fault that Linda had tricked the money from her mother but he should have been far more careful and bought her an open ticket, whatever the cost. The Metro to the airport was cheap and her mother could have funded that. He only hoped that the mother would be in, and in a mood to talk.

She saw him walking up the drive. She must have heard the creaky gate. Banging on the front window she was shouting and waving for Max to go away. Even the neighbours came out to see what the commotion was. Max retreated out of sight and tried the phone but she immediately cut him off and left it off the hook. Resigned Max phoned a friend to see if he would put him up for a few days. The days became weeks when suddenly a text came from Mrs. Honister to say that Max can visit at four in the afternoon and she would be there.

Overjoyed and apprehensive Max phoned Linda’s mother who again wouldn’t have anything to do with him. Forlornly he took a bus to the hospital and sat in the waiting room to be called. At precisely four, Mrs. Honister appeared and asked him to follow her. She led Max to a General Ward which for Max was a good sign. Five minutes was all he was allowed with Linda. She didn’t say a word and appeared not even to recognise him. He was quickly whisked off by a Staff Nurse to the Consultation office.

“Right Max, the good news is that Linda has fully recovered, that is she has regained consciousness,” said Mrs. Honister, “but her left arm is not operating correctly, which is usual for a stroke patient.” She paused. “The biggest problem is her mental health. As yet she can’t talk or even recognise things or people. The nurses have to even teach her how to eat and hold a straw to her mouth for a drink. It’s OK Max, she is in a ward with full time surveillance and she is still being monitored all the time. All I can say is that this may take time to improve. Don’t ask me how long. I don’t know. Any questions?”

“Oh, this has taken me by surprise. The nurses warned me that it was touch and go with her. At least she has survived. Can you give me a best guess on how long it will be for her to talk, eat by herself, walk etc. Give me the worst case. What is the worst prognosis.”

“Well, you naturally don’t want the worst. It’s early day yet but from my experience I would say that she won’t be able to talk properly though she maybe able to communicate with gestures. Her left arm is useless and probably also he left leg so she is likely to be wheelchair bound. At the best she may reach a stage of being able to hop into bed or onto a loo. She’s not incontinent, which is a blessing. She may be able to learn to feed herself and do tasks for herself with her right hand. What was her job?”

“Well, she didn’t have one since leaving school. She mixed with the wrong crowd and became addicted. She was a school friend and I tried to help her out. I got her into a rehab centre and took her away to France, away from her surroundings hoping to cure her.”

“And what is your job, Max?”

“Well, I’m a fledgling artist, a sculpture. Currently I am working on a commission which will pay handsomely.”

“Will it pay for full time care Max?”

“Is that what she will require?”

“Well, her mother won’t even talk to us. She has abandoned her daughter to the State unless you can help out.”

“I dreaded that might happen. They never saw eye to eye.”

“What was your relation with her before her relapse?”

“We lived together for over eighteen months with about six in France. I hoped to marry her but she wanted to wait. An unfortunate incident happened in France and she left for home. I tried to persuade her to come back. She agreed and I senselessly sent the airfare to her Mum and you know the rest.”

“Well, it looks as if she has you or the State. Could you look after her? Sorry I shouldn’t have asked just yet. We must see how she progresses in the next month or so.”

“I understand. Is there anything I can do to help in her rehabilitation?”

“Well, you can’t do anything for the next two weeks then we can reassess her needs. She will be transferred into a hospice then I suppose you can visit and help at that point. We must stop there. I am being paged. I will continue to text you her progress on a daily basis. In the meantime, you have to reconsider your life and future. I must go Max.” Max sat with his head in his hands as a nurse brought him a cup of tea.

Each day Max received a comprehensive text from the Consultant describing Linda’s progress and he visited the hospital and then the hospice twice a day. He left each visit in utter dismay. Linda didn’t recognise him at all. He was a complete stranger to her. He showed her photos in his tablet and she didn’t even show recognition of herself. She did manage to point to the photos depicting Max and then point to him. Eventually Max borrowed a mirror so that Linda could look at herself and recognise herself on the photos but it took time for her to comprehend that it was the same person. His only major success was when he showed her a Charlie Chaplin film which she seemed to enjoy immensely, with open laughter and giggles. Even the nurses were surprised that she had finally found her voice.

Bringing in her mother at this stage would have been fruitless and even counter productive. He decided to wait and see some progress. Finally, a message came from Mrs. Honsiter that she would like to see Max to discuss Linda’s future.

“Come on in Max, good that you came. The nurses tell me you have already helped in Linda’s rehabilitation. Coffee? OK then let’s get to the point. We have contacted Linda’s mother, sent a social worker to her and made no progress at all. She has disowned her own daughter and the social worker noted that she is unlikely to change her mind.”

“Yes, I know and I’ve had the same brush off. As you probably know she has no other living family or relatives that I know,” answered Max gloomily.

“We had to get in touch with her mother first and I’m not sure we are correct in contacting you to handle her affairs since you are not related.”

“That’s true but I was in effect her fiancée, guardian, lover and we had cohabited for over eighteen months so I think legally I should be able to handle her affairs,” answered Max authoritatively.

“I agree with that but the question is who will look after her care? She needs full time nursing and the State will only provide that if she is residing in a hospice. You have seen her. She is effectively a vegetable. She is very fragile and another stroke would be fatal.”

“I understand all of that Mrs. Honister but she won’t get the stimulation in the Hospice that will help her. They are too busy. At least when I’m there I get her to do things, talk to her and get some positive reaction.”

“Yes, and that has been noted but I don’t think you could look after her full time with the care that she needs or could you?” asked Mrs. Honister giving Max an inquisitive look.

“Physically Linda is improving by the day I have noticed. She’s not incontinent and signals when she wants to go. She enjoys company even though she doesn’t recognise me from the past. It’s like starting a brand-new relationship. I can’t just abandon her. Yes, she will be wheelchair bound but I more than strong enough to lift her and see to her daily needs. She can be close to me all the time in my studio and that may stimulate her and gender improvement. I want to look after her.”

“You’re a brave young man and I appreciate your loyalty but her health is very fragile and I’m not sure you could cope. Before we make any decisions then I suggest you take the following course of action. You apply to be a regular voluntary helper at the hospice. You will be assigned to Linda but you will also help with other patients so that you get to know how to handle every situation. After a month we will have another meeting like this and you can make some decisions. I like your spirit.”

“Thank you. I just want the opportunity to help her. I know how critical her health situation is. She could die over night I have been told but I want to make her life as happy as possible and I want you to give me that opportunity.”

“My secretary will give you the forms to fill in. Be assured that you will be approved. Please keep me informed what plans you are making for your own and her future. I have another appointment now. Bye.” Max left encouraged and despondent.