Some years back, as I found it almost impossible to tell the difference between the small brown euro coins, I said to Fran ‘lets just throw them into a pot and see if we can cash them in later’. She agreed, I think, and I nominated a drawer from a thrown out bathroom cabinet for the purpose. But there were never more than a couple of dozen coins in it because I completely forgot to use it.
While sorting through some stuff on a shelf the other day, searching for something else, I came across 2 small black purses absolutely crammed with small brown coins. They must have been Fran’s and I had no idea she was acceding to my suggestion, but not in the place that I had designated. Both are ‘giveaways’, one from a boulangerie in the large village which closed down years ago, and the other from the original site of the Presse, but from the previous couple who ran it.
We disagreed about that couple, I thought they were distant and less than friendly, she always found the opposite, very chatty and familiar with her, despite her lack of French.
It is not exactly a secret that she kept from me, but I find it strangely touching that she had gone her own way in agreeing. I haven’t got round to counting them all yet and I might not cash them in but perhaps keep them both just as they are, but in a prominent position, as some sort of a momento of a lovely lady who appeared to accept that I was the boss while nevertheless ploughing her own furrow. 
I love the thought of her nodding in agreement with my various ideas while doing something completely different in a way and, I am not in the least put out that perhaps I didn’t know how little in charge I really was. 
I wonder what else will turn up over the time to come, and where. Can’t wait. 
