The Bar-Tabac at Miendrac, like many in the villages of the Midi-Pyr???n???es, is dusty, functional, dated. It survives only because, amongst the vineyards of the undulating countryside, there is nowhere else to have a drink and buy cigarettes. It was not always like this. When Jimmy and Helen Ross first knew it in the 1980s, the Bar-Tabac was modern, clean, busy, its terrace colourful with flowers. The owner was a reserved, middle-aged woman, who provided a service that was as quietly efficient as her appearance was ...
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The Bar-Tabac at Miendrac, like many in the villages of the Midi-Pyr???n???es, is dusty, functional, dated. It survives only because, amongst the vineyards of the undulating countryside, there is nowhere else to have a drink and buy cigarettes. It was not always like this. When Jimmy and Helen Ross first knew it in the 1980s, the Bar-Tabac was modern, clean, busy, its terrace colourful with flowers. The owner was a reserved, middle-aged woman, who provided a service that was as quietly efficient as her appearance was elegant. By chance, Jimmy learns that she has been in hospital for some weeks. On impulse, he decides to visit her, for old times' sake, even though he had never known her name. She is cautiously pleased to see him and gives him the impression she would like him to call again. He does, and by degrees he and Helen are drawn into the sick woman's affairs, discovering secrets of the unusual life she has lived, all because of her Bar-Tabac.
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