“What a great colour,” he said, admiringly.
“It’ll probably shock a few people,” I answered, thinking back to the ruckus my lavender shutters caused in Magny–les–Villers. “But anything is better than that horrible brown.”
“Oh no, it won’t shock anybody. It’s a true Burgundy blue.” He caressed the paint. “Oui, A real Burgundian blue.”
I didn’t even know Burgundy had a blue. I thought its colours were…well, Burgundy, with a bit of yellow thrown in for good measure.
And here I was thinking I had chosen an exotic Indian blue, and that I would be introducing a strikingly original colour to my village.
I should have known that all paths lead back to Burgundy.