Chapter 16
16
That the heart of Christmas was all about family took on a whole new level of significance for Laura this year.
She was wrapped in the comfort of the love of her own family, despite being scattered between two different countries, when the shock of her confession had morphed into unconditional support. There was a thread of compassion for Ellie woven into every exchange that felt like it was bringing the Gilchrist women closer together than they’d been since the sisters had reached adulthood and gone their separate ways. Even Fi seemed to want to be included, maybe because she was at a distance and in total control of how much contact she had with her mother and sisters.
Ironically, given that her waistline was clearly expanding, Laura felt lighter, as if the secret she’d been carrying had been much heavier than she’d realised. It helped that the initial, unbearable heartache created by Noah’s reaction to the news was dissipating slowly as the days went past. Laura had the reassurance of her family’s love. She could finally allow herself to embrace the astonishing prospect of impending motherhood and, increasingly, she could do so with the confidence that she was more than capable of doing it as a single parent.
She could believe that it would be enough.
That she would be enough.
That she would be able to create a life that would be more than simply enough. It might not be a fairy tale, but it would be satisfying. Fulfilling. Happy …
It did feel a bit like a fairy tale, however, being here in a medieval village in the South of France – at Christmas time, with grey weather that made the decorative lights sparkle so brightly, a small boy next door whose face was shining with the excitement of it all and… oh, my goodness… a huge star on the top of a mountain and two donkeys in the olive grove that made it feel like she was taking part in a real-life nativity scene.
Ellie took her shopping for clothes in Nice and then they met up with Julien and Theo as daylight was fading to go to the central park that hosted the biggest Christmas market in the South of France, and Laura was almost as overwhelmed as three-year-old Theo as he was carried on his father’s shoulders, his mouth open at the wonder of it all.
An enormous Ferris wheel dominated the space, with every capsule framed by lights. There was an ice-skating rink, a forest of pine trees and an entire village of Alpine chalets with decorations on their roofs, like snowmen or Christmas trees or Santa in his sleigh being pulled by a reindeer. The music of a carousel competed with seasonal songs from elsewhere, and there was something different to smell or taste every few steps, like mulled wine and hot chocolate, ice cream and crêpes, candy floss and gingerbread.
‘Oh, look…’ Ellie tugged on Laura’s arm. ‘How cute are these?’
‘What are they?’ Laura asked.
The counter of the chalet was crowded with thousands of tiny figurines – people and animals of every description, as though the population of an entire nation of dolls’ houses and toy farms had gathered.
‘They’re called santons ,’ Julien told them. ‘Little saints. They are a Provencal tradition. We use them to build nativity scenes. You can have Mary and Joseph and baby Jesus and the donkeys, but it’s not just the wise men that come to see them. It’s everybody from the South of France. Every farmer and baker and the village women and children and dogs?—’
‘Oh… there’s a doctor .’ Ellie picked up the figurine wearing a white coat and a stethoscope around his neck. ‘We have to have this for our nativity.’
‘Let me buy it for you,’ Laura said. ‘For a Christmas gift. I’ll see if I can find something for you, too, El. In fact, why don’t you guys go and do something fun for Theo and I’ll do the rest of my Christmas shopping while I’m here.’
‘We did promise him a ride on the Ferris wheel,’ Julien said.
‘Let’s meet back here in an hour,’ Ellie suggested. ‘It’ll be time to take Theo home by then, I think.’
Laura bought a selection of santons , including a little white dog that could be Pascal. She found some handcrafted finger puppets for Theo and some lavender oil to take home for her mother. And then she stood in front of another chalet and simply stared. It was another offering of children’s toys and games, like the one where she’d purchased the little knitted puppets, but this one had an array of soft toy animals and it was a section that was clearly intended for babies that had caught Laura’s eye.
In particular, it was the sweetest teddy bear she’d ever seen.
The seller noticed what she was looking at.
‘ C’est trop mignon, oui? Very cute?’
‘ Très mignon ,’ Laura agreed.
The woman picked it up and shook it. The toy was soft and fluffy but it was also a rattle.
‘ Parfait pour un bébé ,’ she said.
Unconsciously, Laura’s hand shifted to touch her belly as she nodded. It was, indeed, perfect for a baby.
Her baby. She purchased the little brown bear and tucked it at the bottom of her carrier bag.
Because this was private. It was a Christmas gift she’d chosen for her unborn daughter. A breath of hope for their future.
* * *
Theo fell sound asleep on the drive home.
‘Did he love the Ferris wheel?’
‘He loved everything,’ Julien said. ‘This is the first Christmas that he’s really aware of it all. It makes it special for all of us.’
‘Which reminds me,’ Ellie said. ‘We’re going to go up to Roquebillière on Christmas Eve. That’s the night for the big family Christmas dinner in France. We’ll stay the night there as well and do the presents for Theo in the morning. Will you come with us?’
‘Oh…’ Laura bit her lip. ‘That’s so kind of you… but… you wouldn’t be offended if I stay at La Maisonette, would you?’
‘Won’t you be lonely?’
‘No… I can call Mam. And Fi. I can go out and talk to the donkeys. It’ll make me feel like Mary.’
Ellie laughed. ‘I’m glad you’re not quite that pregnant. What is your due date?’
‘May Day.’
‘As in “help, everything’s turning to custard”?’
‘As in the first of May. Labour Day.’ Laura was laughing now. ‘How appropriate is that?’
‘We celebrate la Fête du Travail in France as well,’ Julien said. ‘But it’s also la Fête du Muguet . I don’t know what those flowers are in English, but we give them to the people we love and they are a symbol for good luck and happiness for the year ahead. They are small and white, like tiny bells, and they smell beautiful.’
Ellie was scrolling on her phone. ‘They’re lilies of the valley,’ she said. ‘Oh…’ She turned to Laura. ‘They’re Mam’s favourite, aren’t they?’
‘I believe they are.’
‘I hope that does turn out to be the baby’s birthday. And wouldn’t Lily be a lovely name for a girl?’
‘Or Lilou,’ Julien suggested. ‘That means the lily flower in French.’
The silence that fell in the car then started to feel a little awkward. Were they all thinking about the baby’s father?
It was Laura who broke the silence. ‘Have you seen Noah, Julien?’ she asked, quietly. ‘He might need a friend at the moment.’
Julien shook his head. ‘I’m not sure he’s around. He told me once that he doesn’t like Christmas and he prefers to go away. Somewhere it’s warm enough to go to the beach.’
The silence fell again, but this time nobody broke it.
* * *
He shouldn’t be here.
Noah made a point of being somewhere very different for the days before and after Christmas. Somewhere hot so it didn’t even feel like winter. A Fijian island was always very pleasant. The Maldives was a favourite, but he had planned a first visit to one of the French overseas territories this time and he’d been looking forward to setting foot on the fabulous Champagne Beach on the island of Espiritu Santo in Vanuatu.
But here he was.
In the South of France. At the end of a chilly, wet day far too close to Christmas. Walking through the rain-slicked stone streets, under archways with loops of fairy lights, past store fronts stuffed with seasonal treats and gaudy decorations. Past gatherings of friends and families in the bars and restaurants or ice skating on the tiny, artificial rink.
Past the vintage carousel with its painted ponies that looked as if they were leaping over raging streams, with their legs curled up and their manes and tails flowing. Red-cheeked children in woolly hats and mittens were laughing with delight, hanging on to the gilded poles as the ponies moved up and down and around, prancing to the tinkling, tinny music.
He’d been dragged into the past far too much over the last few days, and right up until this morning he’d been counting the minutes until he could board the plane and escape. He’d had his bag packed and a taxi booked but, in the end, he couldn’t do it.
There was no escape.
There would be no reprieve from crunching through what felt like the shards of his life to be found in lying on the white sand of a tropical beach or diving into the turquoise-blue seawater. He would be running away. That was something only a coward would do and Noah Dufour had never been a coward.
The shock of Laura’s revelation had given way to an anger that had been burning so brightly it seemed to be reaching a point where the fuel was exhausted.
Noah was certainly exhausted. Physically, from lack of sleep, and emotionally, from a trial run of every stage of grief.
Denial had seen him scouring the internet looking for evidence that he couldn’t possibly be the father of Laura’s baby, but even if she’d followed every rule for taking oral conception, it was only 99 per cent effective. In reality, with the mistakes that could be made, it was more like 93 per cent.
The anger wasn’t simply due to the feeling of being utterly betrayed. He was angry with himself as well. He hadn’t been careful enough. He’d trusted someone else with what was, arguably, the one thing that could turn his entire world upside down. Someone he’d believed understood exactly how important it was to him. Had he only imagined the connection he’d felt when they’d been lighting those candles in the church in Moustiers to remember the terrible loss of children in their lives?
Tonight, it was pure sadness, as he watched the children on the carousel and fell into the past again. It was quite likely that it was one of these very ponies that Elise had ridden, in those happy days before she’d become so sick. He could hear an echo of her laughter and see the look that was on every child’s face when they had no reason not to believe in the magic of Christmas.
There was something else in the emotional mix, however. Something new. The beginning of acceptance, perhaps?
This couldn’t be changed.
But it could still be controlled.
Noah had questions, though. And there was only one person who could answer them.
* * *
It was so quiet that Laura could hear the sound of a motorbike that was probably miles away.
She stared into the glowing embers of the fire but didn’t get up to add a new piece of wood. She had closed her eyes, in fact, because the sound of a powerful bike was always going to make her think of Noah. She hugged herself, curled up on the big old sofa, as if it could bring to life the memory of having her arms around Noah.
Her heart tripped as she heard the roar of the bike coming to a halt, and it was racing by the time she heard the sharp tap of her brass door knocker.
For a long, long moment, Laura couldn’t move after she’d opened the door. She searched Noah’s face, not daring to look for any signs of forgiveness but… unable to see the sharp edges of hatred. She hadn’t realised she’d been holding her breath until she stepped back and felt new air rushing into her lungs.
It was only then that she remembered that she hadn’t bothered with any make-up today and her hair hadn’t seen a straightener for days. She was still wearing the oversized jumper that had become an adult version of a child’s comforter, but the jeans had been swapped for some new leggings and her smart boots had been replaced by sloppy socks with suede soles.
‘Sorry… Please, come in…’ She pushed tangles of hair away from her face. ‘I’m a mess. I… wasn’t expecting any visitors.’
‘You look beautiful, Laura.’ Noah walked past her and she closed the door. ‘You always do.’
The tone suggested a statement of fact rather than a compliment. He went to stand in front of the fire.
‘Can I get you something to drink? Some tea… or wine?’
‘ Non. Merci . I won’t stay long. I needed to ask you something.’
‘Okay…’ Laura sank onto one end of the couch.
Noah cleared his throat. He took a deep breath. And then he said only a single word.
‘ Why ?’
Laura didn’t know what to say. Was he asking her why she hadn’t told him earlier, or why she was telling him at all?
Noah filled the silence. ‘You knew,’ he said slowly, ‘you knew that it would be the worst thing that could happen for me.’
There was a note of puzzlement in his tone. It wasn’t simply that he was angry that he hadn’t been informed or given any chance to contribute to choices being made. He was hurt, Laura realised, and that made her feel really bad.
A flash of a forgotten memory. Ellie, as a baby, reaching up for the pretty lolly that Laura was unwrapping to eat, her little face lit up with the desire to taste what her big sister was about to put into her mouth.
‘I’m sorry, hinny,’ she’d told her. ‘But you can’t have one. It’s too dangerous. You might choke…’
Ellie’s face had crumpled in disappointment and Laura hadn’t even wanted that lolly any longer.
Did she love Noah as much as she’d always loved her baby sister? A love that meant that their happiness, along with any other emotion, would always be linked at some cellular level? Knowing that she’d hurt Noah was hurting her . She could actually feel the physical pain of it.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly.
‘So… why ? I thought we were the same. That we both had our own reasons not to want a child. Or to be married.’
‘I thought so too,’ Laura said. ‘And I did believe we were safe. My doctor told me that you have immediate protection if you take it during the first five days of a period and… it was more than five days before I came to France.’
Oh, help… Laura could feel her cheeks going red. She was, effectively, telling him that she only started taking the pill because she knew she was hoping to have sex with him. She rushed on before he had time to comment.
‘I didn’t tell you when I found out because I didn’t think I would need to. It was the last thing I expected to happen. The last thing I wanted to happen.’
She stopped and swallowed hard.
‘But then you changed your mind.’
Laura could feel the intensity of Noah’s gaze on her but she couldn’t look up at him. ‘It was because I knew it might be the only chance I ever got to be a mother,’ she said quietly. ‘And… because of Ellie. I could remember what it was like to hold her when she was a baby. That love that was so huge it felt like… like the only thing in the world that mattered.’
She risked a glance and saw that Noah had closed his eyes. When he spoke, there was a raw edge to his words.
‘I was remembering my sister this evening. And yes… I know that kind of love.’ He opened his eyes and cleared the roughness from his voice. ‘I will accept this child, Laura. I will help in whatever way I can – we will discuss arrangements before you go home – but… I cannot give it the love a father should be able to give his child.’ He let his breath out in a sigh. ‘I buried my heart with Elise,’ he said, so quietly she could barely hear his words. ‘I am not capable of feeling that kind of love again.’
Laura didn’t try and stop the tears from escaping and rolling down the side of her nose as she followed him to the door. He could easily let himself out of the cottage – he’d done it the last time he’d been here, after all. Maybe it was an instinctive need to offer comfort that had pushed her to her feet. Or maybe it was simply love. Her heart was breaking for him and she had to be closer, even if she couldn’t touch him.
It was Noah who turned in the open door and the look in his eyes broke another piece of her heart.
‘ Bon nuit , Laura,’ he said. ‘ Et joyeux No?l. à bient?t .’
She watched him walk to the gate but she could hear Ellie’s words rather than any echo of his farewell.
‘He might think that this baby is the last thing he wants but it could be that it’s exactly what he needs…’