Catriona’s accident has made of us minor celebrities in the village

Three weeks ago Catriona was going to the village shop when a building site security fence fell on her. Wire spikes ranged along the top gouged three chunks out of her right forearm, two of which were too capacious to sew up. She was taken to hospital by the village firemen in their fastest van, siren wailing, lights flashing. The fence had toppled over once before that day, but the mayor, with whom the legal responsibility ultimately lay (the building site was a public work) put the blame on Catriona for walking too close to the fence, or perhaps existing.

Within this small Provençal village society the incident and the already unpopular mayor’s hot denial of responsibility became a cause célèbre. I can only assume this is why the patron at the permanently packed local restaurant reserved us a table for three at such short notice for Sunday lunch. The best table, too; situated in an unfrequented corner well away from the long shouty party tables and backing on to a side street with a cooling breeze.