The Coldest Case, Martin Walker [famous ebook reader txt] 📗

to have it for the police museum,’ Virginie replied. ‘But now I’ve done the first one I’m sure I can make a replica for him very easily and I don’t think he’d know the difference.’

Nor would we, thought Bruno to himself, as he led her downstairs to his van for the drive back to his home. And that means Virginie could have two contented customers, each with their own skull, and possibly even a third in Elisabeth’s Paris showroom.

‘What a lovely place and a terrific view,’ she said, as Bruno parked in his driveway. She stepped out to admire his garden and watch Balzac trot off to see the geese and chickens. ‘And you have so many vegetables growing here I’d have sworn you were another vegan.’

‘No, I’m a happy omnivore but I do like growing and eating my own fruit and vegetables. We’ll dine tonight with Gilles and Fabiola at the house where you left your bag.’

He went to the kitchen and brought out a wicker basket and let Virginie pick the courgettes, herbs and tomatoes he’d be preparing. He cut down onions, garlic and shallots from the braided strings that hung from beams in his kitchen. He added a carrot to the basket for his horse. Then he led her to the rear of his cottage and let her choose between the peaches, apricots and figs on his trees for their dessert. She took a selection of all three.

‘Don’t you entertain here?’ she asked.

‘Yes, often, but with a fire warning in place, the local fire chief has forbidden me from staying here overnight since it’s so close to the woodland. As the local policeman I’m on his list of essential personnel, like the Mayor, doctors and pharmacists. I’m staying at the Mayor’s house until we get the all-clear. I’m very pleased that these fruit and vegetables we’re taking away won’t be going up in smoke.’

‘What about your chickens?’

‘If a fire looks like getting close, my job is to organize an evacuation for some neighbours who live out of sight but quite nearby, which means I’ll have time to rescue the geese and chickens. I’ve already stored my essential documents and personal treasures in town. That reminds me, I need to bring up some wine from the cellar for our dinner tonight.’

‘Is that why I’m staying at your friends’ house, because of the danger of fire?’

‘No, I thought it inappropriate to invite you to stay with me, and it means you’ll make new friends. We’re also dining there because Gilles wants to talk to you about your work on the skull. He mainly writes books these days but he was on Libération and then Paris Match for many years so he still does journalism. Now we’ll call in at the stables so you can say hello to Hector, my horse. You may also meet another friend who’s coming to dinner, Pamela. She runs the riding school, a cookery school and some gîtes for tourists.’

‘I was raised in cities so I don’t ride and I don’t know much about horses.’

‘Nor did I before coming here. I grew up in Bergerac and only learned about the country once I arrived in St Denis, over ten years ago,’ he said. ‘I didn’t ride, didn’t know much about dogs or chickens or even about gardening. You can learn all these things and every single one of them has enriched my life. I didn’t know much about wine, either, but I’ve really enjoyed getting to know winemakers and beginning to understand a little of what they do.’

‘My mum always used to say you should never stop learning because life never stops offering you lessons.’

‘She sounds like a wise woman,’ he said. ‘Let’s go and meet Hector, and Pamela, and two of Balzac’s friends, sheepdogs called Beau and Bella.’

When they arrived at Pamela’s place, she was in the courtyard of the stables with her horse, Primrose, already saddled. She greeted Virginie, saying, ‘You must be the artist Bruno has been telling us about, or are you a sculptor?’

‘I think I’m more a technician.’

‘That’s not what I hear about your work, and it’s not what I saw at the museum of the creations your teacher made from skulls. I think what you do is extraordinary.’ Pamela turned to Bruno. ‘Do you want to take Hector out?’

‘Virginie doesn’t ride. And she just had a bit of an accident, broke her nose.’

‘Poor thing. Miranda is about to start with the beginners, putting young girls onto a pony and walking them round the ring. Would you like to try that, Virginie?’

‘Not today, but I’d like to watch while Bruno goes for his ride. May I meet Hector, please?’

Bruno led the way to Hector’s stall, took the carrot from his pocket, broke it in half and gave half to Virginie and showed her how to hold out her hand and let Hector find his own way to the treat and not to worry; the horse wouldn’t bite. He held out his own half-carrot first and told Virginie to watch from the side and see how delicately the horse took it.

‘You’ll feel his breath on your hand, very warm, and his amazingly soft lips and then without you noticing, it’s gone and he’s chewing away.’

Bruno put on his riding boots and cap as Virginie rather nervously held out her hand but then kept it immobile as Hector took his treat. He brought the saddle across, kneed Hector gently in the tummy as he tightened the girth and then fitted the bridle. He gave the rein to Virginie, suggesting she lead him out to the yard to join Pamela and Primrose. They showed Virginie the way to the rail from where she could watch the ponies walking sedately round the ring as Miranda stood in the centre, encouraging the little girls, some as young as six or seven.

Pamela let Primrose ease into a canter as they left the paddock by the lower path that led up a gentle slope to the church