Madame Guiral from the chateau, in our first years here loved to come and sit on our terrace with a coffee and recount tales of the past. Just up Malc and I's street as we were and are interested in the patrimoine of our area and the region. As the little church of St. Vincent was directly opposite she knew all the stories about that and even about the cimetiere which was at the back of the church but had originally been all the way around. When it rained she told us it had been a problem as dogs could go and dig up bones quite near the surface. Needless to say we never allowed our dogs to go over there.
Her best stories though included our house and she always had a proprietorial air over the Presbytere. Her great grandfather had given the land to the church for the curé's house, in time that became the property of the state and about 20 years previously the council had sold the property now no longer used as the curé's home.Many years ago there had been no door at the front, only at the rear and Madame was never happy with our front entrance. For a start the door had been taken [whether by fair means or foul, we never knew] from a local run down church, but it would never have been allowed to be changed by her Grandfather. Malc and I were always vaguely apologetic about that door we loved so much when talking with her.
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