Roy frowned. Bruno often came up with weird stuff. ‘So it’s lucky we’re not in a camper van, then, Bruno?’
‘Why?’
‘Because they have kitchens. So we would be in a car, on holiday and in a kitchen!’
They all laughed.
A few moments later, Cleo sounded like she was finally getting through on the phone. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Bonjour — pardon — bonsoir! This is Madame Grace. Hello? Hello?’
Then she took the phone from her ear and turned to Roy, very cross. ‘Cut off again. Dead.’
‘Maybe the chateau is haunted?’ Bruno said. ‘Maybe they’re all dead too!’
3
‘The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep,’ Cleo said.
‘Where’ve I heard that before?’ Roy Grace asked.
‘Robert Frost, the poet.’
‘Ah.’
The woods were indeed very dark and extremely deep. Dense forest on either side of them. A creature — barely visible through the torrent of rain — shot across the road in front of the car.
‘Was that a fox?’ Cleo asked.
‘No, a werewolf!’ Bruno said.
She looked warily at the forest. ‘Kind of spooky enough — I could believe it, Bruno!’
‘You’d better!’ he said creepily.
Roy began slowing the car. ‘We’ve done over seven kilometres — you said we would see the entrance after four,’ he said. ‘Didn’t they say we couldn’t miss it?’
‘I didn’t see any sign, did you?’ Cleo asked, starting to sound tetchy.
‘Nope. We must have missed it.’
‘How?’
‘Dunno, but we must have.’ He stopped, turned the Citroën round and accelerated, heading back the way they’d come, the wipers working hard.
‘Papa, how much longer?’ Bruno asked again.
‘Done wee-wee,’ Noah announced, suddenly.
‘We’ll only be a few minutes!’ Kaitlynn said, soothing him. ‘Just a few minutes then I’ll change your nappy.’
‘I can do it when we arrive, Kaitlynn,’ Cleo said, then halted in mid-sentence and pointed ahead, to the right. ‘There! Look, entrance gates!’
Roy slowed the car right down. Two crumbling stone columns topped with round balls. Slightly rusted wrought-iron gates hung wide open, each at a wide angle. A small wooden sign that he had to drive right up close to, in order to read.
CHÂTEAU-SUR-L’ÉVÊQUE
4
‘Seriously?’ Roy said. ‘This can’t be it.’
Cleo was looking doubtful. ‘Hmmmn,’ she said. ‘That’s the name.’
‘So it must be,’ Roy replied, equally doubtful, turning in and heading up a steep, tree-lined and potholed carriage drive. ‘Let’s give this a go and see where we end up. But this can’t be a hotel drive.’
‘Darling,’ Cleo corrected him, ‘it’s not a hotel, it’s a chambre d’hôte — French for a posh guest house. Just the owner and his wife, who are our hosts. They probably don’t have the money to mend this drive — and they open their house just to make ends meet.’
‘Let’s hope that the house isn’t in the same condition as the driveway!’ Kaitlynn quipped.
‘I reckon the owners are serial killers!’ Bruno said, excitedly. ‘We’re all going to be murdered.’
‘Thanks, Bruno!’ Kaitlynn said.
Cleo turned to him with a grin. ‘Judging by all the TripAdvisor reviews, there are lots of people who stayed here and didn’t get murdered.’
‘The owners might have written all the reviews themselves,’ he replied.
The avenue wound left, then right, the car bouncing and splashing through deep puddles on what was little more than a cart track. At least the rain had stopped — for now, anyway. They crossed a broken-down bridge over a narrow, swollen stream, and carried on. At last, up ahead were two more pillars, again topped with stone balls.
Beyond, in the murkiness, they could see the silhouette of a huge mansion, with a round tower at one end.
‘Is that it?’ Roy asked. ‘Looks far bigger than in the photos!’
‘Wow, it’s a palace!’ Kaitlynn said, peering up from her phone.
To Roy, the chateau was grand but looked its age, just like the entrance and the bridge they had crossed. It stood on the far side of a circular driveway, with a fancy lake at the front. In the centre of the lake was a fountain, with a statue of a naked cherub — missing its head and an arm — standing on a huge seashell. But the fountain wasn’t working.
Their tyres crunched on the gravel, and Roy pulled up in front of a grand porch, with steps leading up. It would be a lot grander, he thought, with a lick of paint...
The front door opened and a mangy grey-and-white mongrel appeared, barking furiously, pulling itself down the steps by its front paws, dragging its hind legs behind it.
‘That’s terrible,’ Cleo said. ‘That poor dog.’
‘This place isn’t quite how it looked on the website,’ Kaitlynn murmured. ‘Maybe someone touched up the photographs just a teeny, weeny bit!’
Two cats appeared, and sat, like sentries, either side of the door. Their eyes seemed to glow yellow.
‘It’s horrible,’ Cleo said.
‘Give it a chance — we’re not seeing it in its best light, darling,’ Roy said.
‘Roy,’ Cleo said, ‘I don’t want to stay here. Let’s drive straight out.’
Tired and frazzled after the long and difficult journey, more driving was the last thing he wanted at this moment.
‘What about Jack?’ Kaitlynn asked, anxiously. ‘He should be here. But I can’t see a car.’
‘He might have parked around the back or in a garage, Kaitlynn,’ Roy said. Then, trying to stay positive, he added, ‘Maybe it’ll look nicer in sunshine.’
‘Maybe it’ll look even worse,’ Cleo replied. ‘I vote we leave now.’
‘While we can!’ Bruno added in a sinister voice.
‘Darling,’ Roy said to Cleo. ‘It’s 4 p.m. and we’re in the middle of bloody nowhere. And we’ve paid everything in advance.’
‘I’d prefer to be at home rather than here!’
‘But Jack’s here!’ Kaitlynn said. ‘We can’t just leave him!’
‘Of course not, we’ll tell him to come with us,’ Cleo said.
Before Roy could comment, the front door opened wider and a dumpy, rather stern woman stood there. She looked in her late forties and she was dressed in a drab summer frock and plimsolls. Her face was tight and pinched, behind large glasses, and her mousy brown hair was pulled back into a bun. She reminded him of someone, but at that moment he couldn’t think who.
‘She looks happy to see us — not,’ Cleo said.
‘We are a bit late,’ Roy replied. ‘You know what the French are like about food. They probably had a lovely lunch ready — as we’d asked for — maybe that’s why she’s looking annoyed,’ he said. He was trying hard to be positive, not wanting to start their holiday on the wrong foot. Although it seemed they were pretty well on the wrong foot already. Both feet, actually.
‘Like, it’s our fault?’ she replied. ‘And you’re right, Kaitlynn, this place doesn’t look anything like the images we saw.’
‘Maybe the website pictures were taken a long time ago.’ Roy shrugged.
‘A very long time ago!’ Cleo exclaimed.
‘I’ll go and say sorry in my best French — and explain why we’re late. Hopefully they’ll be able to rustle something up for us.’
‘Otherwise we can eat the dog,’ Bruno said. ‘It looks like it’s on the way out.’
Ignoring him, Roy helped Cleo lift Noah from his child seat, and asked Kaitlynn and Bruno to grab some of their bags. Quietly, to Cleo, Roy said, ‘Let’s give it tonight, at least. If we don’t like it, we can leave first thing in the morning.’