Some people say that a bakery is the heart and soul of a village or town. The Lord’s Prayer tells us ‘Give us this day our daily bread’ and this invocation, chanted throughout the world, gives credence to my former claim.

The Verdun family run the bakery in Bertric-Buree. Emile Verdun, a handsome, tall, dark haired man is the master baker and is assisted by his wife Jacqueline Verdun. Jacqueline is some ten years younger than Emile and she is small, blonde and perfectly formed. Some female villagers are jealous of her figure and want to know the secret of keeping her figure. What they don’t realise is that baking is a hard job and behind the scenes Jacqueline carries the flour and is perpetually on the go. They work hard and the villagers have noticed that the ovens are permanently lit and a warm glow of light can often be seen through the shutters during the depths of night.

The bakery consists of a large L-shaped room with adequate accommodation to the rear and above. On entering the shop customers are delighted by two large glass cabinets full of pastries and croissants. The bread cabinet is to the left and clients can see into the heart of the bakers from this vantage point. Two ovens, mechanical mixers, cutting / preparation tables and a large marble sink are the main features of the baking area. The village children often watch as Emile bakes the mid morning pains and baguettes. He is a popular member of the community and plays his part in the smooth running of Bertric-Buree.

Opposite the bakery is the house of Madame Ardennes. She was born within the walls of this now crumbling house eighty years ago and was married in the village church to Jacques Ardennes, a local farmer. Jacques died twenty years ago leaving his wife to manage the large house and dispose of the farm. Now partially sighted she still is mobile and independent from her family. Her diabetes is kept under check but this condition has affected her eyesight. Her daughter would like her to move into an old people’s home but Madame Ardennes will not hear of it.

Each morning Madame Ardennes sits at her breakfast table enjoying the sunshine entering her drawing room on cloudless days. She eats three slices of ‘pain’ liberally covered with butter and cherry conserve followed by a Sacristain (a sweet confectioner’s delight). Two, strong cups of black coffee are consumed and she is ready for the day.

The day began as any other. Madame Ardennes crossed the road to pick up her bread from the bakery. The opened the door brightly releasing the mechanism of the door bell,

"Bonjour, Jacqueline!" Madame Ardennes chirped.

"Bonjour, Madame Ardennes. How are you today?" asked Jacqueline as she gathered the routine provisions together.

"I cannot complain at my age. The same, you know," she replied.

Jacqueline asked, "Is your daughter coming to visit today?"

"Yes, probably about half past ten. That will give me plenty of time to enjoy a good breakfast and tidy the house from top to bottom. I like my house to be just perfect for her when she comes. I don’t want her thinking that I cannot manage on my own!" Madame Ardennes became quite agitated as she spoke.

"There you are, Madame. 35 francs please," Jacqueline put out her pale hand to receive the coins and notes. Madame Ardennes gently placed the money into her hand and bade her farewell. She left the shop and crossed the road to her house. Jacqueline secretly admired this woman and her determination not to be beaten by age. She returned to her duties as Emile had popped out for an hour and the ovens required her urgent attention.

As Madame Ardennes started her breakfast she realised that the night had passed without the usual strange smell in the air. She could not identify this sweet smell that was a regular feature of the village night air. It smelt like a BBQ but without the aroma of burning charcoal and copious animal fat. Masking this smell was a completely different one: more of yeast than beer. The nocturnal aroma worried her as her sense of smell had been commensurately heightened as her eyesight failed proportionately. She would look out of her bedroom window to locate the source of the aroma but the light winds and high location of the village, within the landscape, made detection almost impossible. She cut herself another slice of pain and prepared the surface with butter and jam. As she bit into the bread her false teeth did not meet but remained prised open by a hard, foreign object. Using her fingers she removed the hard lump from her mouth. She placed it onto the side of her plate and walked over to the dresser to fetch her magnifying glass. Moving closer to the window she examined the small, hard object through the powerful convex lens. It was a small thighbone, probably belonging to a rat, or mouse. How revolting, she thought. She wondered how it made its way into her bread but realised that she would have to approach Emile Verdun to report the matter and seek his advice.

Madame waited for an hour until Emile returned from the flour suppliers. He was apologetic and offered her a week of free bread for her trouble.

"Madame, we sometimes get bones in the flour from our suppliers. Rodents and similar creatures do inhabit the flour mills and despite every precaution some animals do find their way into the flour," he explained. "I sift the flour daily to check for foreign materials. This bone must have found its way into my bread. I do apologise Madame Ardennes."

"Emile, you are a good baker and I accept your explanation and apology. That’s the end of the matter. I will see you tomorrow for my usual supplies. Good day to you," said Madame Ardennes as she closed the door behind her. Emile sighed and looked at his wife. She avoided eye contact, as she was disgusted with his negligence. They worked together in silence for the next two hours.

Just before closing Bernard Bouvais entered the shop.

"Madame Verdun. I hear that you offer a special service?" he asked as he placed a suitcase on the floor.

"Monsieur Bouvais, you are correct and I am very sorry to hear of your news. You must be very upset." Responded the concerned Jacqueline. "We charge 300 hundred francs for our discrete services." Bernard Bouvais looked relieved and smiled through his obvious sadness.

During the night Madame Ardennes could not sleep. Her daughter had put great pressure on her to move out of the family home. Brigitte had resorted to using blackmail to get her hands on the house, which was her selfish plan. Evlyn Ardennes was not going to give up without a fight. As the years passed Evlyn had to reserve her energy for this inter family conflict and she paid the price for this with her health. She turned on her bedroom light to listen to a story on tape. There it was again – the smell wafted through the very walls. She climbed out of bed and opened the shutters and window. She sniffed the warm night air filling her ancient lungs in the process. The direction was unknown and masked by the humid air rising from the Riberac plain. She noticed a dull light emanating from the bakery but thought nothing of it. The only singular event was the outline of Bernard Bouvais leaving the bakery from the rear door. As she could not see his face she could not be sure it was him but she was trained to recognise people by their shape. What was he doing there at two in the morning she wondered? She closed the window and went back to bed. Sleep eventually came and her conscious thoughts dissolved into relaxation and darkness.

With the onset of morning Evlyn dressed and opened the front door. She was alarmed when she felt something at her feet. She carefully examined the box and it contained her bread and Sacristain. Emile must have delivered her free bread. What a kind thought. She picked up the box and closed the heavy front door behind her. The morning repast passed without incident and she sat in her armchair offering a full view of the street.

Just before 11.30 Madame Ardennes noticed a white van pull up outside the bakery. Two men dressed in white coats climbed out and entered the bakery. By their shape she knew they were strangers and walked in an official manner.

Jacqueline looked up from her paperwork and greeted the two men. Without speaking two identification cards were thrust almost into her face. She read them carefully and realised that they were Food Health Inspectors. She smiled to hide her concern and spoke,

"Gentlemen you are early. Our usual health inspection is in two months time. You will find no problems here. We bake only the finest bread with the finest ingredients."

The taller man responded, "Madame Verdun, we need to inspect these premises as we have received an official complaint."

"Who from?" Jacqueline inquired.

"We are not at liberty to divulge our client but we must inspect your premises. Do you refuse?"

"Certainly not. Help yourselves!" Jacqueline stepped back to allow them entry into the baking area. "Would you like some coffee?"

"No thank you, Madame," replied the slightly shorter man who carried a camera. Jacqueline continued with her paperwork but kept a close eye on the two officials. She watched as they took various samples, photographs and traces scraped from the walls of the ovens. They were methodical and professional in their approach and this caused Jacqueline to feel less threatened by their presence.

Exactly half an hour later they packed their equipment up and left as quickly as they had come. The senior official said that he would be sending a full report when the samples had been analysed in the lab. The white van drove off in the direction of Riberac and Jacqueline picked up her mobile phone to call her husband.

Bernard Bouvais sat alone in his kitchen staring at the empty bed on the floor. He had loved his companion and missed their walks together. Bertrand had loved to swim in the stream and used to hide from his master behind the haystacks. Bernard wiped a tear from his eyes and picked up the basket to place it in the cupboard under the stairs. He would not need to use this dog’s bed for a few more years until he could decide to get another puppy to replace Bertrand.

"Emile, you must be more careful next time. We will be shut down if the authorities get wind of our little extra money earner!" whispered Jacqueline as they ate their supper in the back room.

"I take every precaution. Do not worry, my dear, as I swept out the ovens and removed the evidence this very morning. They will find nothing in their samples. I bet you 1000 francs! Such is my conviction," replied Emile.

"I like it here. Perhaps we should stop our special service for the next few months? said Jacqueline as she finished her corn on the cob.

"No! We can continue as normal. We have nothing to worry about," ordered Emile. The matter was closed as far as he was concerned. Jacqueline did not believe his confidence and continued to worry as they tucked into their casserole.

Two days later an official envelope arrived stating that the premises had passed the health check with full marks. An apology was given and the date for the next routine visit. Jacqueline Verdun threw the letter casually onto the table deciding whether to tell Emile or not. He would have to know but perhaps she could use this information to her advantage for the next few days? She finished her coffee and walked into the bakery to answer the call of the bell.

Madame Ardennes stood before her sporting a broad grin across her ancient face. Jacqueline responded with a reflexive smile but wondered if this was the woman who had reported them. She remained polite and placed the items into Madame Ardennes’ shopping basket.

The plight to feed the hungry

Was the call of the baker;

Diversification

Was the jewel of the day.

Steven Longman-Marshall