First
of all, while it's still fresh in my mind, I must write down the
details of the dream I had a couple of days ago. Now, for some
reason, I rarely remember my dreams but on Wednesday morning I woke
early with Pierre Dupchant (a character from one of my novels) in my
head.
Initially,
he was laying in the long grass within the grounds of what appeared
to be a 16th century abbey. His battered body, covered with cuts and
bruises, was resting against a high stone wall which I assumed he had
managed to scale. The next moment the scene switched to a dormitory
(not unlike my old school) where Pierre was being attended to by a
couple of nuns. And that's it, I'm afraid - that's all I remember.
I'm
no expert, but I can only assume this dream was brought on because I
had been discussing the follow up to my book (Amatore's Restaurant)
with Laura earlier this week. Pierre, who is on the run
from the Préfecture de Police in Paris, is temporary employed as a
waiter at the restaurant in London. Laura and I
had been discussing the possible outcome of Pierre's story, and his
inevitable arrest, when I had the idea that he could abscond from the
police once back in France.
So
that could account for the first part of the dream. The rest could be
explained by the fact that I happened to be reading a chapter of
Boccaccio's, Il Decamerone, which describes the adventures of
a gardener at a convent who is seduced by the nuns in turn.
I
guess Pierre would love to be in this situation!
Now
for today. The warm weather has returned and I've been sitting
outside in the garden most of the morning. Coco is now in my lap
while I'm trying to scribble down these notes on a piece of paper. So
much for all the work I'd been planning to do! Since the arrival of
Pepin, I don't get to see much of the cat so I just don't want to
disturb her.
Ines
is back from her holiday (in Provence - lucky thing) and we were
supposed to have a rehearsal today. But when I phoned Alexander to
ask if it was still on, he'd forgotten all about it. I sent Ines a
text and she said she'd only just arrived back: "Could we make
it next week?"
I'm
a bit relieved as I need to get to grips with marketing my books.
Paul
came over with Isabelle and Mathilde to say goodbye (they're
returning to Paris for the new term). I asked Paul if he's finished
preparing his lectures and he launched into a five minute speech
about the life and times of the composer Francis Poulenc. I wished
them luck with the baby and Isabelle mentioned they'll be back up at
the gite for the occasional weekend. They brought me a Kouign-Amann,
a Breton butter cake they'd brought back from Dinan yesterday - looks
delicious.
As
soon as they'd gone Benjamin and Madeleine came running into the
cottage. Pepin trotted after them, sniffing around for scraps. I
couldn't resist giving him a piece of my cake (even before I've had a
taste!)
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