Grace
Grace
HER THIRD BOOK, HIS AND HERS , WAS PUBLISHED the year she turned forty-six. Two weeks later it went to number two in the bestseller list, and stayed in the top five for ten weeks.
Dorothy sent flowers and a case of French wine.
Vanessa sent a voucher for a spa day for two.
Publishers from Germany, Italy and Croatia expressed interest. ‘All reputable,’ Dorothy said. ‘The advances are small, but it’s a foot in the door. I’d advise you to accept,’ so Ellen signed three new contracts.
She was asked to do radio interviews. His and Hers received glowing reviews in several publications. Danny created a website for her.
‘You need to join Facebook,’ he said on the phone. He’d taken to calling her from work now and again.
‘Never heard of it.’
‘It’s a social networking service, aimed at connecting people. It started a few years ago in Harvard, and now it’s worldwide. It would be great for spreading the word about the books.’
‘Danny, you know what I’m like with technology.’
‘Ellen, you’re living in the second millennium.’
‘But my heart is in the first,’ and he gave up, and promised to spread the word through his own Facebook account.
Grace, almost fifteen, flew alone to London the day after school closed for the summer. ‘Feed Frankie,’ she ordered her mother, and Ellen resisted the temptation to point out that she was usually the one who fed her, whether Grace was there or not. Leo took two weeks off work and he and his younger daughter went to France and stayed with Henri and his wife, Sabine, who were living in the old family home in Nantes with their infant daughter, Esme.
Grace rang Ellen every few days, probably at her father’s insistence, and spoke excitedly about a swim in the local pool or a hike in the hills, and Ellen rejoiced at how happy she sounded, and wondered how on earth she’d settle back in Galway.
‘Mum,’ she said when she reappeared, ‘you know how I said I wanted to go to live with Dad in London?’
‘Yes.’ Here it came, the next round of the battle.
‘Well, I’ve decided I’d rather live in France.’
‘What?’
‘Hang on , Mum. I’ve said it to Henri and Sabine, and they say I could live with them, and go to school in Nantes. I could help Sabine look after Esme too.’
‘Grace, sweetheart, you’re still—’
‘I know I’m too young now, I know that. Just listen . I’d stay here and do my Junior Cert, and then I’d go and do the last two years of school in France. Mum, I could, Henri says he could get me into a school. I’d really love it. I’d be as good as gold, I’d study really hard, honestly.’
Ellen looked at her pleading face.
‘Please, Mum. Just think about it, at least.’
‘Does your father know you want this?’
‘Yes, and he’s OK with it.’
She rang Leo. ‘You told her you’re OK with it?’
‘Ellen, Grace is a good kid. She’s bright, she’s got a mind of her own.’
‘You can say that again.’
‘I know you and she can spark off one another—’
‘She said that?’
‘She didn’t have to. I can see it myself when I’m there. Listen, it’s not a problem. You want what’s best for her, I get that, and so do I. But she has a strong will and she knows what she wants, and she’s not afraid to go for it. You have to admire her for that.’
‘She’s still a child, Leo. Even if we wait a year, she’ll only be sixteen.’
‘A switched-on sixteen who won’t take any crap. And she’d have Henri and Sabine looking out for her. She got on great with them – she was like a little mother to Esme – they’d love to have her, she could teach Esme English. And I could pop over every other weekend, make sure all was well.’
‘She’d have to come home, every holiday.’
‘Of course she would.’
So she agreed, with so many reservations, to think about it. Grace was her baby: the idea of her living in another country, without either of her parents around, was terrifying. Then again, Henri was pretty much family, and dependable – and so, hopefully, was his wife.
In the meantime, Juliet and Rosie packed rucksacks and went travelling around Europe for the summer, ending up on a Greek island for their last week and coming home tanned and too thin. They stayed with Ellen for the month before college reopened, and she fed them until they filled out again.
In October, her phone pinged with a text. Is the coast clear? Eugene asked. She hadn’t seen him since Grace had come back from France. She looked at his name and conjured up his face and waited to feel something, and felt nothing.
She’d outgrown him. He’d been a wild antidote to her solitary state. She deleted his text, and he got the message and didn’t contact her again.
She joined a book club that met in the library. She made new friends, had coffee with one or other of them during the week, went back to the theatre, which she’d neglected since Juliet’s departure. Life resumed its even keel.