Blood Of Beetles

The potato soup is ready. 

Potato soup doesn't take long.

Basically, as long as it takes to boil the potatoes.

Saint Arnoc pours the hot soup into a thermos.

All mod cons, says Gaius.

A modest investment, says Saint Arnoc.

Will my soup be red? asks Terence.

It could be made so, says Saint Arnoc.

Saint Tenenan goes to the dark corner of the cellar and returns with a bottle.

This will do it.

Gaius wonders if he should ask what's in the bottle.

But one ought to trust saints.

Can Bertille come to the picnic? asks Terence.

She is always welcome, says Saint Arnoc.

Terence runs up the steps and round the side of the cottage to the front door, knocks on it, and invites Bertille to the picnic.

Is it potato soup again? asks Bertille.

Good guess, says Terence. Mine will  be red though.

Beetles' blood, says Bertille.

Yurk! says Terence.

Ten minutes later, Gaius, Terence, Bertille and the saints are heading down the steps to the shore.

Eleven minutes later, they are sitting on the sand between rocks.

It's a long time since we've had a picnic, says Saint Ténénan.

Not that long, says Gaius. Remember Belle's Tour de France picnics?

I do, says Saint Ténénan. Our little picnic seems poor in comparison.

But more noble, says Gaius. Potatoes are both simple and nourishing.

Saint Arnoc opens the thermos.

Saint Ténénan sets out the cups.

Saint Arnoc starts pouring.

Wait before you do mine! says Terence. Are you going to put beetles' blood in it?

No, says Saint Ténénan. Of course not. This is red food colouring.

But isn't it made from the blood of crushed beetles? asks Gaius.

Not this one, says Saint Arnoc. This is made from water and food colour 124.

Okay, says Terence. I'll have it.

Gaius wonders if he should look into the details of food colour 124. 

But the soup is cooling in the cups, and to do so he would need to go back up the steps and search for his phone.

Can I have some? asks Bertille.

Oh, says Saint Ténénan. I don't know.

One drop won't hurt, says Saint Arnoc. I'm sure she'll have had it before.

In pink cakes, says Bertille.

Why don't we all have it? asks Gaius.

Why not indeed? All in together.

They sit slurping their pink and red soup, keeping their eyes peeled for the oystercatcher, who had agreed to come back.

Imagine their surprise when instead of the oystercatcher, a small model ship floats into view, captained by a small golden sailor.