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Immersion in French
Last summer a brand new Range Rover Vogue turned up at our little harbour with a whole bunch of very loud English Hooray Henries and their girlfriends onboard. It was promptly driven down to the end of the Hard (slipway) whereupon it bogs down in deep mud - on a fast incoming spring tide.
The occupants disembark and struggle in the sticky blue ooze for about fifteen minutes until the sea water is just approaching the wheel rims. They then decide that discretion being the better part of valour and clearly because it was Daddy's brand new Rangey ('cause there was no way these delinquents could afford one), they had better seek help. So, off they squelch to the local garage in the village and find Jean-Louis, the owner. Jean-Louis immediately drops everything he's doing and returns with them on his 'trusty but rusty' old three wheeler tractor.
Jean-Louis takes one look at the rapidly sinking shiny new Rangey, squints upstream at the three knot spring flood and says,
"Je voudrais trente Euros si vous plais." ("I would like thirty Euros please.")
He holds out an oil ingrained hand in polite anticipation.
The leader of these plonkers replies "My good man, I'm not paying you thirty jolly Euros just for a tow!"
Then snorts (the way Hooray Henries do) and looks at each of his chums in turn to exchange admiring nods of approval.
Without another word, Jean-Louis climbs back aboard his antique tractor, winds her up till she starts in a cloud of blue smoke and proceeds to head back to his garage - with a now hysterical Hooray Henry panting close behind in hot pursuit. Jean-Louis stops, slowly and deliberately shuts down the raucous old diesel, slowly, very, very slowly and deliberately he turns, holds out his hand and says politely -
"Je voudrais cinquante Euros si vous plais".
The predictable high pitched squeal from Hooray is - "Fifty!? You said thirty before!"
Jean-Louis smiles from his commanding position high on the seat of his ancient tractor. He looks directly over Hooray's head at the tide now lapping round the tail lights of the Range Rover. Then, in front of a silently expectant audience of some fifty or more very amused locals and grockles, Jean-Louis answers. Gently but quite firmly and in perfect English -
"It’s gone up!"
I’ve finished ‘towing’ now.
For the day anyway.
