Josh and the old lady walked silently for a while. The rain had receded a bit, leaving a mist that stuck to their faces and clothes. What a weather!

“I thought England was the best country where to turn wet and cold by just hanging around,” said Josh.

It made Ms. Giraud laugh. “No, dear, I think that in the temperate areas of the world, the feeling is pretty much universal.” She stopped and pointed at a small church. It was short and stocky, with is walls made of a strangely pink-red stone. “That’s a building that traces back to ancient Rome. It started as thermal baths before being turned into a chapel. As a result, there are some mosaics inside that have nothing to do with Christianity. It’s funny how cultures mix together.”

She was obviously very happy to speak English with someone again. Josh didn’t interrupt her when she explained the village’s history while they were on their way to the repair shop, but he hoped she would hurry a bit. He was getting soaked. Again.

She soon turned to another topic entirely. “So, that friend of yours seems to be in quite a mood…”

“Hum, yeah,” said Josh. “Let’s just say he hasn’t been at his best the last few days. Neither have I. I think he was very stable in his old life. Now, due to some circumstances, that life is gone. It’s probably hard to reinvent yourself when you’re almost at retirement age.”

“I hear you,” she said. “It all sounds pretty reasonable. Still, does your friend rely on the bottle in every moment of weakness? I’ve seen that happen quite often and it usually doesn’t end well.”

“It will pass,” said Josh, anxious to make the situation look better than it was. “He’s just having a minor setback. The usual Andy, he’s very level-headed, you know, he always knows what to do. He just needs some time to adjust to his new life.”

Ms. Giraud lifted her hands in the air. “It’s your call, Joshua,” she said. “Just take my advice and don’t let someone else make you unhappy. Life is too short to be spent with people who won’t care for us.”

“I know,” said Josh. “We’ll go over this hurdle like we have done before. Thanks for the advice.” He was much less confident than he let on, but this talk really had done him some good. This wasn’t all in his head. There was a real situation, a problem to tackle and solve. It was OK for him to feel bad about it.

They had gone on half a mile on the main street that went through the village. From the looks of it, there weren’t many streets beyond this one. It was nothing short of a miracle that there even was a mechanic around these parts. At the end on the village, where the street went back to being a road, they took a left turn on a gravel path. It led to a prefabricated low building with a large hangar door. A couple old cars were waiting outside on a patch of grass.

Ms. Giraud went to the door and called out. “Julien! Est-ce que tu es là?”

A man went out of what looked like an office on the side. He was large, stubbly and wore a stained blue jumpsuit. He seemed to be around his forties. Without pause, he relied to Ms. Giraud’s call. A long conversation in French ensued. Josh tried to look serious and concerned about it. He was completely lost and the joke was getting old. Traveling had been everything but the fun he thought it would be.

At some point, Ms. Giraud switched back to English. “Where is your van parked again?”

“In front of the bakery,” said Josh. “Can he bring it here?”

Ms. Giraud relayed the question. “He’s gonna go and check right now! You can follow him and I’ll just wait here, relax a bit.” She looked a bit winded by the walk and standing around. Following Julien without questions would be a good way to let her rest and keep her pride as an enthusiastic granny.

They walked back along the street. There was not much talking going on, as no communication was possible. Josh was intimidated by the look and presence of Julien, a caricature of the sturdy countryside hick.

‘How do you behave in the presence of someone who can probably crack open walnuts between his fingers?’ he thought, uneasy. He tried looking at ease and serious, the kind of guy you could depend on. He stopped when he realized he was imitating Andy. When they got to the van, Josh found out he couldn’t even ask how much time he needed to look over the engine, so after handing the keys, he stood there feeling very inappropriate.

Julien talked while he was plugging, shaking and unscrewing things. He stayed around thirty minutes under the hood and came out with an impossible to translate explanation. It was time to go back to the repair shop and ask Ms. Giraud for help again.

Josh was getting damp. Repairing the van through rainy weather was turning into a running gag of sorts, except no one was laughing. When they got back to Julien’s office, Ms. Giraud had settled down on one of the chairs, reading a pamphlet with a broken windshield drawn on it. Julien took off his gloves, addressing the old lady in short sentences. Josh didn’t know what the news were yet, but that didn’t sound like the language of romance.

“Oh, Joshua, dear,” said Ms. Giraud, surprised, “it’s a wonder you could drive this thing! Julien says he hasn’t seen parts so rusted since he repaired an abandoned tractor. Who sold you this?”

Josh brushed off the questions. This wasn’t really the time or place to talk about a shady mechanic tampering with stolen vehicles. “A friend put it back in shape for me,” he said, scrunching his face. “Is it really that bad?”

“He can keep some parts,” said Ms. Giraud after another confirmation, “but most of internal… things have to be replaced. Sorry, I’m not very good with mechanical talks.”

“Don’t worry, me neither,” said Josh. The worrying part was how to pay for the repairs. He was pretty sure to get over his measly budget and it was likely that the cost would go over Andy’s finances too. The trouble he felt showed on his face. How were they gonna get out of this one?

He raised his head and noticed Ms. Giraud looking at him. “I may have a solution,” she said.