Читать книгу One More Croissant for the Road онлайн

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Somewhat revived, I look out of the window to check Eddy is still in the courtyard three stories below, and see Matt sitting on the terrace sipping a large glass of orange juice and looking rather pink. ‘She just offered it to me,’ he shouts up in response to my aggrieved question. ‘I think she went to get it from her own kitchen. I must have looked like I was having a heart attack.’

In the circumstances, it seems wise to head no further than the café across the square lest we lose even an inch of gradient before dinner. I happily put away yet more potatoey pizza, and Matt polishes off not only a sausage version, but a big bowl of ‘pasta General Patton’, named after the leader of the US liberating forces in 1944, which might also explain, now I come to think of it, the large tank parked up on the roundabout opposite our table. With a fair quantity of carb to walk off, we stroll through the town to try to find that famous view of Mont-Saint-Michel before the sun goes down.

As it sinks lower in the sky, almost bouncing against the horizon, we force our protesting legs into a final dash through the botanic gardens, tripping over bits of ancient stonework in our hurry, and just manage to catch a glimpse of the celebrity island across the bay before it disappears into the darkness. The sea is silvery under an apricot sky, and from here, on the edge of Normandy, we can see the Breton coast stretching away westwards in the sunset.