It takes a lot to stop Harry smiling these days and has done for weeks now, but having been diverted due to a road traffic accident which means that the signs directing them to the small town of St. Flour, around which are several villages, only varying in the direction of the roads which run through them and by association the way that the houses face which may well impact on what if anything they buy, suggests it's unlikely that they will get to see anything until following morning, requires Ruth's steadying hand on his arm to remind him that with Wes in the back of the car, saying bollocks which she can see forming on his lips is best kept to himself.
Although what Ruth of the research doesn't know because Wes had conveniently kept her occupied helping him with his scribblings on the evening when Harry had been doing a little searching of his own, is that once a week the TGV or high-speed train stops in St Flour on its way to the French Riviera having left Paris and by extension on the way back, so in the love honour and heaven forbid that he is going to insist that she says obey on the big day sense, he is hoping that at some time in the future that she like him will want to visit the city of romance in the most luxurious way possible.
For the moment though and with the suggestion that there is snow in the air, he ignores the fact that his smile is returning, ups the temperature in the car and after another half an hour of torturous driving along much narrower roads, turns into the carpark of their hotel just in time to get changed before dinner and with his patience intact.
That the hotel is in every conceivable way different from the one in Reims which had been super luxurious and at the time had caused Ruth to worry that Wes might be overawed and the one in the forest which had as the evening had worn on seen him telling his dad that he was having a great time, this she is pleased to see falls somewhere between the two. In that it is in keeping with the houses in the area which are stone built, have grey slate tiled rooves, beamed ceilings and shutters on the windows. A taste of tomorrow, so much so that she can finally feel the tension slipping away and even imagine herself getting a good night's sleep after what have been three very long days. And yes, Harry might have got agitated but that's part and parcel of who he is and probably always will be. A man who cares and always has done without any consideration as to where it might lead as the scars that only she sees prove.
.
Tired though he is, long after Ruth has fallen asleep in his arms and Wes who has somehow managed to stay awake much later than planned has been tucked up without protest in the adjoining room, Harry's mind refuses to let him join them. Maybe it is the extra cup of coffee after dinner, or maybe it was as simple as them being within touching distance of what Ruth, even as a schoolgirl had dreamed of doing by living in France. Not though he assumes with someone who still considers himself to be the luckiest man alive, despite Wes having been in either the room adjoining theirs or sharing a room which has prevented anything that is remotely close to the intimacy they enjoy at home. Thoughts which continue into a dream as had been the case the previous night, but this time of them walking hand in hand along a footpath with the promise of sex to look forward to when they get home.
Hand in hand maybe, but sex with a big 'you still have to wait old son' message firmly printed behind his eyes when he wakes up in the morning, sees him climbing out of bed intending to make Ruth a cup of tea. Pulling back the curtains, the sun coming up over the hills in the distance which appear to be wrapping themselves around a landscape worthy of a masterpiece, waterfalls cascading down rock faces and a river in the valley bottom, all of which are far exceeding everything they have read in the guidebook and are the reasons he is rooted to the spot. Only moving when he hears Ruth stir, dragging himself away without comment because not only does he want to see her reaction but hold her close for one precious moment before Wes wakes up.
.
The temptation to leave without having had breakfast they overcome by booking in for a second night and with the option of a third because it simply makes sense. The cold air assaulting them as soon as they walk out of the hotel, an indicator that the winter's in this region are much colder than those further north, not a deterrent so sure are they in their conviction that this is where they want to be, before driving to the lower town which is as described in the guidebook protected by the hills which surround it and at first glance has the usual array of shops that they are now used to, plus what they are looking for which is an estate agency.
That the agent is a bespectacled man who they presume to be the owner is pleased to see them, with a visual indicator that during the winter months business if any comes by way of the insane, he combines with the offer of a warm drink which requires him to disappear for long enough that they have time to look at the properties both to rent and to buy which adorn the walls. Including one which he explains on his return is owned by an American couple who have spent the last two years here before flying home.
That at first glance it is exactly what they are looking for, Ruth counters by saying, 'Harry loves Americans don't you darling, so we maybe we shouldn't discount it,' which has the desired effect in that he offers to meet them there after lunch. Not wanting to wander around town for what might be several hours, the spy in Ruth gives the impression that they will go elsewhere which results in a piece of paper which requires a signature to say that they will return the keys having had a look around on their own being produced.
Having accepted the second option with a glowing smile and a squeeze of the owners hand just for good measure, the camera never lies becomes a reality the moment that they turn left at the top of the high street onto a road that runs alongside the river, before crossing the first of what are according to the directions that Ruth is reading out loud are two narrow bridges. Before taking the second turning on the right onto what is rightly described as a narrow road to a small hamlet of four houses, the last of which is set back from the road which having parked up can be reached by a short set of steps.
Climbing out of the car and with Ruth holding tight to Wes's hand, Harry stops for a moment to take in the view, but it's only when Ruth stops and turns to look at him that he knows how disappointed they will both be if the house has been modernised to the extent that it will no longer feel authentic, or the garden which is described as being an oasis of calm sheltered from the prevailing wind by a high stone wall has been changed in some way. Because not only is the house facing what in both their minds is a view to die for but the additional carrot is that further up the road there is a small village which has an Auberge where they intend to have lunch, a boulangerie and a post office come convenience store.