“So the card, hum, le carte?” said Josh, pointing at the blue card numbered eight. He tried to get his point across the best way he knew, through hand gestures and weird faces. Léa, seven years old, wasn’t fooled.

She answered something about how the blue cards were not the same as the red ones, you had to tap and say a word before you took one. Or something. Josh couldn’t understand a word of what she said. French lessons with an impatient little girl, that was harsh. Sitting in a comfy armchair with her afternoon read, Ms. Giraud chuckled.

“Mamie, il comprend rien!” said Léa, whatever that meant.

They had started playing in the early afternoon, when the little girl had gotten bored with drawing ponies and rockets. Ms. Giraud was always really happy to have her, but at her age she didn’t have the energy to keep up with her so it very quickly became Josh’s job. He was the home help, after all.

Sometimes they went out to play. The weather didn’t matter to Léa, who was equally happy to jump in puddles as she was playing football around the trees. Those activities made communication easier. You needed only to jump, shout, put your hands in the air, not to speak french.

It sounded silly to say, but the language barrier problem never even occurred to Josh before they had met their first french person and heard ‘Bonjour’. Soon, he was making ample hand gestures to get everything through. He felt like a bad mime artist. How come so many people across the world didn’t know a single word of English?

Right now Léa wasn’t in a mood to play outside. Rather, she wanted to play this new game she had: brightly colored cards, little rabbit wooden pieces and of course a rule book available in French and German only. A cute afternoon nightmare.

After a lot of high-pitched scolding every time Josh did something wrong, she got bored with it and found something more rewarding to do. She was a huge fan of playing house with her pet dinosaur and a weird plushie that looked like a screw with an eye on one side. Josh used the opportunity to slip out and land on a chair beside Ms. Giraud.

“You had enough already?” she said, smirking. Ms. Giraud spoke English fluently. While she owed her last name to her late husband, she had been born and raised in Leicester. The last few weeks had taught Josh to really appreciate that fact.

“I give up, Ms. Giraud,” said Josh, jocking, “she’s got endless stamina. If we just plugged her in somewhere, we would be able to replace all power stations in a hundred miles radius.”

“She’s my grand-daughter all right,” said Ms. Giraud quite proudly. She sat straighter and shot an intense look at Josh. “How are you, Joshua? Have you been settling all right?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Mr. Lefèvre is a good landlord, though we haven’t seen him that much.” Josh knew very well that the question was not about him, but he was very actively avoiding the topic these days. Even in his mind, the question ‘How is Andy?’ had been set aside. The answer was obvious, anyway.

“He’s the same as always,” said Josh, discouraged. “I wish I could do something.”

“No, Joshua,” said Ms. Giraud, “don’t you go pushing that responsibility onto yourself, it’s not fair. You’re already doing a lot.”

“I don’t know,” said Josh, “someone has got to take care of him until he gets back up. Who’s gonna be there if I’m not?”

Ms. Giraud shook her head, skeptical. “You know, I don’t wanna say bad things about your friend, but…” She looked at Josh straight in the eyes. “There is a moment where you have to save yourself. I’ve been there, and it’s always heart-breaking, but sometimes the person you’re with can’t give you back what you’re giving them.” She rolled her eyes. “Men…”

There she was again. “Ms. Giraud, we’re not a couple…” said Josh. She gave him an excited look, not believing him at all. “Whatever.”

Serious again, she leaned back in the armchair. “Anyway, you take care of yourself, all right?” she said. “This is not my territory anymore, you’re a grown man.” Looking to her right, she added, smiling: “And I think you have someone waiting to play tag. She’s got her boots on already.”

“I’m gonna need spare legs,” said Josh in a grunt. He raised from his seat and followed Léa to the garden.

The weather had been pretty good for September, or maybe that was just the way France was. There was rain, sure, but also a good warm sun. Today was such a day. Léa danced around in her red boots with her coat open. As long as she didn’t trip, she’d be fine. He just had to play Big Bad Wolf for a while. The secret was to make her run more than he did.

He was entertaining the little one, but Ms. Giraud’s words played back in his head. Elders were supposed to be wise. Could he really not bring Andy back on his feet? What was he supposed to do?

The questions followed him while he ran through the garden, hid behind barrels or trees, jumped fences just to get a good scream out of her. Wearing little Léa out was a job in itself.

The late afternoon brought clouds and the light diminished rapidly. It was more than time for Josh to go. He kissed her goodbye as was proper here. She slipped him his daily bill.

He walked home with a heavy heart, thinking of what was waiting for him. The sky, reflecting his mood, drizzled on his shoulders along the way.