5
A Little Tête-à-Tête
What people often fail to appreciate is the huge amount of planning and research required before an interviewer can get up close to an interviewee with a microphone. Preparing the right questions to draw out the information I want, when I have no idea how forthcoming the person will be – or how they will react to being filmed – requires a lot of forethought. Often, they are being interviewed for the first time and I’ve had a few people clam up on me, making the process painfully slow.
My biggest concern is duplication. With several changes in the list of people I’ll be talking to, I’m worried I won’t get the breadth of experience I was hoping for. From the newest trainees, to interns on a set contract, to the small core group of permanent staff who oversee the entire process, it has to be representative across the entire range of skills and horticultural disciplines.
I’m poring over my notes but I can’t keep asking Solange questions as she’s a very busy lady. My phone buzzes and I groan. After spending nearly an hour earlier in the day talking to Mum to reassure her that I’m fine, just busy, then sending a quick text to Elliot to check he’s doing okay, I intended to knock this into shape without fear of interruption. It’s Ronan calling.
‘Hi, Ronan. How are you?’
‘Great. I bumped into Solange Forand up at the palace this afternoon after escorting a party of Japanese horticulturists around the gardens. She mentioned your grandma worked at Versailles in the sixties?’
Well, it seems he must know Solange quite well to be so chatty with her.
‘Yes. She was a horticultural student, but I don’t really have any information other than she was on some sort of work experience programme. Elliot threw it into the conversation as he knows I’m hoping to find out something about her time working on the palace gardens. Solange did say I should mention it to you, now I come to think about it, as you might know if any of the gardeners who were here in 1961 are still alive. I didn’t realise the two books you’ve written were actually to do with the history of the park and the gardens.’
‘Well, what is it they say? Jack of all trades, master of none.’
He’s doing it again; it’s as if he doesn’t want to be taken seriously.
‘I, um, wondered if you fancied taking an hour or two off to come to supper at my place? I’m less than fifteen minutes away and hearing about your family link with Versailles has piqued my interest. I’m vaguely aware of a special programme pulled together in the early sixties that folded after only six months. The funds simply weren’t there to justify the manpower. I’m wondering if this was what your grandmother took part in.’
I’m surprised he’s that interested in a passing comment and aware my lack of knowledge is going to be somewhat of a disappointment. ‘Unfortunately, I don’t have any information at all that I can pass on. I’m literally starting with a blank page, myself.’
A soft ‘hmm’ filters down the line.
‘That’s a shame. Anyway, first things first. I’m known for making the best croque-monsieur you’ll ever taste. I am part French, you know.’
Really? I start laughing, glancing at my watch and thinking, what the heck? I need a break, anyway.
‘Okay. Text me your address and I’ll punch it into the satnav.’
‘Great. See you in, what, thirty minutes?’
‘Sounds good.’
As soon as we disconnect, I begin to have second thoughts. I mean, he’s a nice enough guy, although his attitude is a little disarming, but I have a rule never to mix business with pleasure. But then I doubt he would think that cheese on toast was a way to impress anyone, so I should stop jumping to conclusions.
I wonder if he thinks I actually do have information that could help his research.
Gathering together my papers, I close the laptop. I hope he isn’t going to be very disappointed when he realises I don’t know anything at all; I simply wish I did.
Oh. My. Goodness.
‘This is so not cheese on toast!’ I exclaim, cutting into the heavenly looking, golden-brown stack on the plate in front of me. I will admit that the accompaniment of a glass of red wine is rather welcome.
‘What were you expecting? An English toasted cheese sandwich?’ Ronan is laughing at me now and I look at him, raising my eyebrows.
‘No.’ I put a small forkful into my mouth, savouring the perfectly complemented flavours of home-cooked gammon, crisply baked bread and the oozy, cheesy, béchamel sauce, all coated in what appears to be a very thin mushroom omelette.
‘Mushrooms?’ I muse.
‘Ah. Well. I’m not really a purist, although it was Solange who taught me how to cook this properly. I hope you’re getting that hint of mustard on the Emmental cheese, but let’s keep the mushroom omelette just between us. Although, some people serve it with a fried egg on top, but I feel that lacks a sense of refinement. Either could be construed as sacrilege, I suppose, but I prefer to view it as a modern twist on an old favourite.’
I burst out laughing.
‘Okay. Your secret is safe with me. You and Solange get on well, then?’ I’m just making conversation really – it’s not that I’m interested.
Well, I don’t think I am.
‘Solange moved here from the South of France a little over a year ago and she didn’t know anyone at all. I could sympathise with that. People assume it’s hard for a foreigner in a new country, but for Solange, too, following her dream meant leaving everything behind. Her family didn’t want her to come to Versailles and her father hasn’t spoken to her since she left.’
I put down my knife and fork.
‘I’m sorry to hear she’s had to contend with that. She obviously loves what she does. I thought I’d researched enough to prepare me for the experience of being here in person but I was so very wrong.’
Ronan looks across at me and smiles knowingly.
‘Eat. This is best consumed hot and not cold. Solange said you were hooked.’
‘Hooked?’ As my eyes flash over his face I can see he’s enjoying himself, and I will admit that I’m feeling much more relaxed around him.
I wait while Ronan chews through an enormous forkful of croque-monsieur.
‘Under the spell of Versailles. I came here seven years ago to record an audio version in several languages for an exhibition that was running at the time. I’m still here.’
He opens his eyes wide, indicating that it probably wasn’t a part of his plan at the time.
‘And two books later?’
‘Yep. Still hunting for new information about the past. My research so far has left me with gaps. It’s like a jigsaw puzzle where I don’t have all the pieces but at least now I have a good idea of which ones I’m looking for. But I hate loose ends.’
Now I understand. Solange was doing Ronan a favour mentioning my connection. And maybe she thought it could be a two-way thing.
‘That must be frustrating. I can sympathise with that, as my grandma was very secretive about her year in Versailles.’
He stops eating, a frown wrinkling his brow.