The couple, no more than in their early twenties, stopped at La Petit Pause where I was having dinner with Nadine, the owner/chef. They wanted to know about hotels. Although they had reservations at one of the many campings, their train had been late and the reception area was closed. Nadine let them leave their gear while they did a foot tour of the hotels in town. Their faces told the story when they returned.
“I’ve an idea,” I said. I led them to my street and received the expected oohs and ahhs. Even after dark the hanging flowers and the full planters look beautiful in the lamp light.
I knocked on my neighbour, Cristina’s door. She rents out apartments. Apologising for bothering her, she asked if they spoke English. When she ascertained they didn’t, we spoke in English.
No, I didn’t know them, but I explained their plight adding the only thing I knew was that they were from Grenoble.
Cristina invited us in, and called the hotels. For the last Friday of high tourist season it wasn’t surprising that no one had a vacancy. The couple stood up and apologised for “deranging” us.
“You can sleep here,” Cristina said, leaving them stunned.
I left hoping they weren’t murderers or thieves, but I saw Cristina on the street. She said that she liked having them in the house, gave them breakfast on her terrace, and they had left only to return with a bouquet of flowers to thank her.
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