Chapter 17 Chapter Seventeen

Is it Xiao Simon, the villain who raped the environment? Simon couldn't help laughing when he recognized the voice on the other end of the phone.That's Johnny.Harris, once a copywriter for his own firm, is now London's hardest gossip columnist.Unlike his spamming counterparts, he doesn't stab his subjects in the back, at least not without first giving them a chance to refute.He kept in touch with Simon over the years and walked him through several marriages.In addition to describing Simon in his column as an emotionally fragile advertising leader, he has always been very kind to Simon.

Hey Johnny, what am I doing now? It's clear that you're ruining everyday life in Provence's most unspoilt village.It's all in the papers, so it must be true, you murderous villain.Harris said with a smile: That is an article that only hints and does not state the facts.In fact, it's beautifully done.I doubt it, but your dear neighbor is a vicious dwarf. So, it's not Crowland?However, it doesn't matter now.It was too late to do any harm. Not in his newspaper, nor his byline.However, he is quoted in the article, as he always advocates, you seem to have put one more nail in the coffin of Luberon, and you will do the harm we mistakenly call progress at will, and the like.Of course he won't let himself get into trouble.It's an old trick, and I've done it many times.In any case, the article is written skillfully so as not to give you the chance to go to court.

How bad does he write? As you can expect, unfriendly, very dismissive, but not fatal.By the time a politician gets caught in a nasty scandal (which happens every week), people forget about it.I will fax it to you.But you'd better be prepared that someone is going to call you, maybe that weird reporter.Harris paused, and Simon heard the lighter and the ringing of the phone.Let me tell you, a little good coverage is fine, you know me, I always give free publicity.What do you think? Simon smiled and said: The way you put your mind to it is irresistible.He thought for a while, why don't you come over at the opening?The time should be early June, when the time comes, there should be some characters for you to play.

If you want, I can also bring some people over to make a splash.Do you need some European scum?Some Italian princes and nobles?Starlet or whore?We'll see.I could give you the cute gay actress, or the race car driver with the alcohol problem, or the keyboardist of Naked and Car Thieves Johnny, I hope this is a classy little hotel.Just bring one of your many girlfriends and leave the rest at the Grumpy Club, okay? Harris sighed heavily, you're going too far, but I will accommodate you.Tell me the date and I'll be in the past embracing British media tradition. Simon said: That's what I'm afraid of.Don't forget to fax it to me.

It's already being passed on.Hold your nose, it stinks!I won't talk to you anymore. Simon's mouth was still twitching when he put the phone down.Shameless and vitriolic Johnny.Harris, always brings him a good mood.Until the fax arrived, his good mood had not dissipated.After Simon read it twice, he tore it up.This can also cheat money! According to Mr. Blank, the restaurant could be completed in a few days, not more than a week.The plasterer has left, and the tilers have finished laying the stone floor. The kitchen looks around, with shiny stainless steel and copper pots, the swimming pool is filled with water, and the olive tree that Ennis almost cried when the workers pruned , has also been planted.Albert.Wardy debated wall space with members of his painting team and an electrician who had other ideas about plumbing.The sound of the flushing of the toilet and the sound of the lid falling formed a symphony, which verified the diligence of the plumber. He made the last inspection for the maximum water flow and immediate flushing, from the urinal inspection to the bathroom, and nodded with satisfaction.Carpenters are installing doors and cabinets, while making detailed corrections for planing and frosting. Small wood chips filled the entire room, and inadvertently floated on the murals that Hua Di had just painted, causing a crisis of war between the British and the French.

Mr. Blank walked deliberately among the commotional crowd, and Mrs. Gibbon followed behind Blank with a long piece of PVC pipe in her mouth.They came to the kitchen where Nicole, Simon, and Ennis were, and Mrs. Pan suggested that the soufflé should be added to the menu. This delicacy was already on the table for people to taste. Bronck lets his nose perform the appreciative function before he speaks.He said that there is a small problem, that is, there are no big dishes.An old couple next door were worried about the swimming pool.Certainly not the swimming pool itself, whose elegant taste is unquestionable, but what happens near the swimming pool is more worrying.Neighbors had read in the papers that in Saint-Tropez nude sunbathing sometimes takes place in a rather unusual manner, and for the village of Basille, which has two churches, the wife considers such behavior inappropriate, sir. Certainly not expressing any doubts, but it would be better if the hotel could offer a guarantee.

Simon wiped the last drop of soufflé with a slice of bread.It's incredible.There is a five-foot wall between their garden and the pool, and you have to walk on stilts to see anything. Blank smiled apologetically and said: Yes, but that lady is the aunt of an official in the Yaweiyi Administration Office, she is an important person! Nicole put her hand on Simon's arm, sweetheart, keep fighting, be a five-minute diplomat. Simon stood up and leaned his head on Mrs. Penn.It was delicious!He put on a strategic smile for everyone, is that okay? Ennis continued: "Honey, you got a little soufflé on your teeth, or it would be nice.Even the old aunt couldn't resist it.

Simon walked fifty yards up the street and knocked twice on a heavy oak door.He heard footsteps, and the small window on the door slid slightly to one side.She stared at him suspiciously through the glasses.He also had to bend down so they could see his face. What's up? Hello madam!I'm your neighbor from the hotel. Yes. I am a hotel operator. Very good Yes.Simon is starting to feel like a foul-mouthed salesman, ma'am, can we talk?It only takes a few minutes. The glasses studied him carefully, and then the little window closed.Then the sound of the latch being pulled open.The lock is open.The door finally opened, and the lady nodded to Simon inside.

It was dark in the house, and all the shutters were closed, blocking out the sunlight.Simon followed the lady's short, erect figure into the kitchen, and sat facing her across the long table.On the other side of the long table, there is a TV.A lamp hangs from the center of the ceiling.It looked like it was midnight.Madam clasped her hands tightly, and her mouth was also tightly pursed. Simon cleared his throat.I hear that you and your husband have some complaints about our swimming pool. Madame nodded.certain activities. Oh those!Simon tried to force a reassuring smile, the lips of the woman opposite him still pressed together.We would ask our guests to be discreet in what they say and do.

Not like St Tropez? We certainly won't be like St Tropez.More like oh my god, with Berneo.Regis (Note: Bognor Regis, in the UK.) Which one is the equivalent French restaurant?Well, it's more like a quiet hotel.You know, very genteel.He leaned forward, and, of course, there was a wall between them. The lady is not impressed with the wall, and my husband has a ladder. Simon thought, maybe there is also a telescope for peeking at girls!I think I can make sure my guests behave properly.He recalled in his mind that Mulie's girlfriend was walking around wearing the minimal three-point style, with her beautiful bronzed buttocks blowing in the breeze. In fact, I personally would pay special attention to this matter.

Finally, a word popped out from the tightly closed lips: Very good. Communication is over.Simon walked out of the dark room and walked into the embrace of sunshine.The wife stood there watching him walk back to the hotel.His wave as he left was met with a slight nod of approval.He thought, this should be regarded as a small victory for diplomats! The next week, the painter finished his work and left.It should be possible to plan the opening day.The staff has been hired, the wine cellar is stocked, and Mrs. Poon's menu is ready.Trucks arriving each day with beds and utensils, deck chairs for the swimming pool, hundreds of glasses, towels, sheets, phones, ashtrays, toothpicks, restaurant brochures and postcards should be enough, and sometimes it feels like Retiro Hotel equipped with. All three of them had worked fourteen hours before they went to the kitchen for a very late supper.They are tired and dirty, but their hearts are full.The hotel finally takes shape, which is very warm and comfortable. Stone is used in many places, but some soft surfaces are missing.All the edges and corners have been smoothed and rounded, and there are no more sharp lines that irritate the eyes.Walking from room to room is like walking among sculptures, with sweetly colored floors, pink and white walls, and silky corners.Blanc is doing quite well, and when the painting is hung and the rugs from Montignac are laid, it should be able to achieve the effect Mr. Wardy calls.Now is the time to let your guests come to your door. Ennis said: "All we need is word of mouth, people always like to go somewhere first, and then tell his friends.Word of mouth alone can make a hotel famous, so we need some big mouths.He looked at Simon and raised his eyebrows, and I'm sure we do know some of these people. I miss Johnny.Harris would come, and Philip would come from Paris.Simon picked up a pear and cheese.I think we should be able to attract some decent girls.I want to make it like the Cannes Festival (Note: Cannes Film Festival.) In general, it's only three hours from Cannes to here. Nicole looks at him in disbelief, you think movie stars are coming?impossible.Honey, be a little rational. I don't mean the actual film festival.There is another celebration in June.People in the advertising world, whenever they have a good reason, show up in sunglasses, and the last thing directors, producers, and ad-agency people want to do is sit in the dark and watch commercials. So what exactly are they doing? Much like they do in London or Paris, they have lunch together.The difference is that they're in Corsair, or on the beach, instead of somewhere in Soho, and they're all bronzed by the time they get home. Ennis said: "They talked to each other and all of them would gossip a little bit.I thought this would be a good idea. I'll find out the dates and ask Lisa to send me the list of delegates.We only need to pick a part.I am sure they will come out of curiosity. They brought coffee outside and sat on the patio.A half moon hung high in the Luberon sky, and distant dogs barked across the valley.Beside the olive tree, the Pis-Pies piss endlessly, the splash of the fountain and the sound of frogs.The air was stagnant and a little warm, hinting at the approaching summer.Simon looked at Ennis and thought he had never seen such a contented face. Well, still miss Wimbledon? Ennis smiled, turned his feet up, looked at his gingham shoes, and wanted to die! Now the water in the swimming pool has been heated to twenty-four degrees. Nicole and Simon go here for a morning swim every morning before breakfast.Nicole said that in a short time, this place will be the guest's sphere of influence.So they must take advantage of this opportunity and make good use of it. Starting the day with a morning swim is quite a new experience for Simon.Soon, he was fascinated by the slight shock of the water touching his skin, his whole body woke up, the lingering drowsiness gradually dissipated, and the disorder and entanglement in his mind and heart also disappeared without a trace.Five trips gradually became ten or twenty trips.He understood that he was getting slimmer gradually. He swam the predetermined distance and got up from the pool.Nicole lay on the slate, the back of her one-piece bathing suit hollowed out to her waist, the drips drying on her breasts.Her breasts were bronzed. A winner's breakfast.He bent over her breasts as he spoke, then stopped.Something in the corner caught his eye.He looked up just in time to see a bald man lower his head just in time.Shit! Nicole held up a hand to block the sun.Darling, you know what, you're getting more and more romantic. I'm not the only one.He nodded towards the wall, you have a mysterious admirer.I just saw his head.I think we have a peeping neighbor. who? A voyeur who has been the husband of a member of the Basiye Surveillance Committee. Nicole sat up, looked at the wall and smiled.Mr. Arnold is an old pervert, everyone in the village knows it.Someone told me he hadn't seen his wife naked since their honeymoon forty years ago. Simon remembered Mrs. Arno's stern face and tight lips.That may well be the case. Don't worry, she'll complain.But he certainly won't.To him, this is much more interesting than watering the flowers.She smoothed the wet hair on Simon's forehead, and slid her hand down the nape of his neck. Now, what does the winner have for breakfast?