of the oven.
After they’d helped themselves and started to eat, Alain glanced at Belinda curiously.
‘Did you ever have a dream when you were younger? Something that you wanted to do so badly it became an obsession?’
‘Not really. Although at one stage I desperately wanted to be a rally driver. The summer we left, Dad had bought me a 2CV like yours but…’ She shrugged. ‘Let’s not go there tonight,’ and she picked up her wine glass and took several gulps.
‘I’ve had this dream, not since I was a kid, but for a good few years now. Camping dans Le Fôret is at the heart of it.’ Alain forked a spoonful of lasagna up. ‘You know of Michael Morpurgo, the writer?’
‘Yes, I’ve heard of him. I’ve even bought a couple of his books. He and his wife are famous for starting Farms for City Children in England.’
Alain nodded. ‘All the time I worked for the charity in Africa, I wanted to be back in France, doing something similar with this place. Not a farm, although I always planned to ’ave a small area with animals, just a few chickens, maybe a goat or two, a horse, a cat, definitely a dog. Turning this place into an escape from the city for underprivileged kids. Give them a holiday in the countryside. That was my dream.’
Belinda struggled to keep the look of astonishment off her face. She’d always assumed that Alain was simply being stubborn about bringing the campsite into the twenty-first century. Preferring to keep the site as an homage to his parents.
‘Did Nigel know about these plans?’
Alain smiled at her. ‘Nigel he ’as always known about, and approved, my plans for the site. Seemed to think through me he would be doing his bit for some underprivileged kids.’
‘But now he’s sold the site to the new owners who probably won’t care a fig about doing anything like that,’ Belinda said sadly. ‘I’m so sorry, Alain.’
Alain helped himself to some more salad.
‘You asked me once why I didn’t want you ’ere. Two reasons: One, I didn’t want Nigel’s troubleshooter ’ere sorting the place out. Me, I could do it on my own. Because I want to give kids from the inner cities a week or two living ’ere, learning about nature, I was determined to keep technology at bay. So, when you arrived and started talking about pods and glamping and going upmarket I couldn’t believe it. That wasn’t what I’d arranged with Nigel.’
Belinda held her hand up. ‘Stop. You had an arrangement with Nigel? I thought it was your parents who’d sold the site to him.’
Alain looked at her. ‘Originally, oui. Before I arrived back ’ere, Nigel he ’ad agreed to buy the campsite. Purely I think to ’elp my parents and stop the worry of it all for them. Fortunately, Nigel, he agree to change things for me. He wouldn’t buy the campsite, but put up the money to get the place up and running again, I’d keep the costs down, and repay ’im within a maximum of two years.’
Alain picked up his wine glass and raised it in Belinda’s direction. ‘Bien, the campsite stay in the family and I can start to put my plan for holidays for children into practice. But he insist on sending you over – to troubleshoot and to make sure I keep to my side of the agreement. I think it a perfect arrangement – until you arrived, determined to pull the site into the twenty-first century with lots of technology everywhere and trying to attract the glamping luxury market.’
‘So that’s why you put up obstacles to the pods, and why he refused to sack you.’ Belinda stared at him open-mouthed. ‘But what happens now he’s sold up? You won’t be able to continue.’
‘Yes I will. Nigel left our private arrangement with the campsite out of the sale to the new hotel people. We’ve rearranged things yet again. Now he’s going to be a sleeping partner and I’ve got three years to pay ’im back instead of two.’
Belinda stared at him for a couple of seconds while the truth dawned on her. ‘You mean you’re the new owner? Or rather you’ve been the unknown owner all the time.’
‘Oui,’ Alain said, smiling and nodding at her. ‘Mais, now you know. It can be our secret until the first of June when we officially open, oui?’ He looked at her anxiously. ‘We ’ave a party to tell everyone.’
‘Sure,’ Belinda said in a daze. ‘I won’t tell