Epilogue
EPILOGUE
SAINT-CHAMBéRY
Spring
‘We are gathered here today to say goodbye to a true servant of the community. Many have gone before and many will go after, but we will remember your time with us, always.’
Madame Voisin sniffed and wiped a tear away at Gerard’s words to the group of villagers gathered in the square.
‘This is the weirdest funeral I have ever been to,’ Erin remarked a little too loudly. ‘Is it even a funeral? Like is there a burial or a cremation or something else?’
‘I think they just chop it up and put it on the fire,’ Tommy said. ‘That’s why Jacques is up there with the axe.’
‘Savage,’ Erin answered.
‘Shh,’ Orla said. ‘The other villagers are looking at us.’
Erin’s phone beeped once, then twice, then a third time.
‘Aw, man, it’s like Burim’s with us,’ Tommy said.
‘We commit this friend of the community, our friend, into the arms of our forefathers,’ Gerard continued.
‘Delphine,’ Erin said, bending a little towards the wheelchair. ‘Can you see OK?’
‘I can see that nothing is as it should be and Gerard is making far more of his part than necessary. That is because he built this version of the brouette, and it has lasted the least amount of time of any in my lifetime!’
‘Well,’ Tommy said. ‘Jacques and I have made the new one and there’s plenty of your lifetime left to see how long it lasts, right?’ He put his hands on her shoulders.
‘Not if I have to eat any more kale,’ Delphine moaned. ‘Or watch you burn any more croissants. They are not meant to be toasted, I keep telling you!’
‘I like them burnt,’ Erin remarked. ‘With cheese.’
‘Yeah, me too,’ Tommy agreed. ‘Burim actually made one into a pizza last time he was here. That was epic.’
Orla smiled at the banter going on as the brouette that had held all the gifts at Christmas time was retired from service and committed to the wood pile, its replacement ready to be sworn in. A lot had happened during the weeks that had followed her pre-Christmas departure. She and Erin had celebrated Christmas Day with their parents and Auntie Bren and, as soon as all the bank holidays were over she had helped her parents prepare for their counselling, talking through some of their issues, and getting them to agree to go forward with compassion and respect for each other at all times. Then, after a failed attempt at the Cadbury’s Heroes eating contest, Sonil had actually broken a Guinness record for Celebrations eating claiming his Achilles heel in the festive contest had been the Dinky Decker. That party night had been a chance for Orla to say goodbye to her colleagues and have a happy farewell to her time at Travel in Mind .
In late January she had returned to Saint-Chambéry for Delphine’s operation and helped Tommy and Jacques keep village store/café and sometime bed and breakfast going.
A couple of weeks later, for February half-term, Orla had brought Erin back for a treat and Burim had visited. Erin was never going to be Miss Academia, but she was trying with her A-levels and now things with their mum and dad were becoming much more stable the environment was a lot healthier all round. And it seemed her sister and Burim were stronger than ever despite the distance.
And here they were now in March, Delphine still going through treatment, but the signs that there was a chance for complete recovery were excellent. Her griping and moaning were definitely accelerating back to near normal levels so that had to be positive.
‘…and with one mighty swing, we give thanks, but condemn you for all eternity!’ Gerard roared.
Jacques swung the axe, the brouette broke in two and Hunter let out a bark.
‘Cheese! Cheese!’
Jacques laughed as Orla galloped across the snow-specked grass towards the cave, unafraid, eager, so unlike the first time he had brought her here to see the foxes. And, within seconds, there they were, five of the animals now, coming to receive the treats.
‘We ought to give them names,’ Orla said as one of the foxes took some cheese and then had a lick of her fingers.
‘No,’ Jacques said sternly. ‘We talked about this so many times. They are wild animals. You cannot touch them or hug them. They need to keep surviving without us.’
‘Speaks the man who still has Noble in his shed with his chickens.’
‘Not through choice,’ Jacques replied.
The vet had visited after Christmas to check out Noble’s condition and deemed him almost fifteen years old – quite an age for his species. He had also confirmed that he was fully domesticated and therefore letting him go into the wild would only lead to his demise. With Delphine having enough to worry about there was no other option but to keep him.
‘Anyway, they all think their names are “cheese”,’ he teased.
‘What does a name matter anyway?’ Orla said. ‘It’s the person that counts. Or, should I say, the fox.’
He got her meaning completely. With him having had so many names over the years he had almost lost sight of who the real person was. But, in time, with strength, he knew he was going to enjoy rediscovering every genuine thing.
‘You know,’ he began as the foxes looked for more food, weaving between their legs as they stood at the cave viewpoint. ‘There are some good reasons why a name would matter.’
‘Really?’ Orla asked. ‘Wolf.’
He smiled. ‘I mean, it would matter if you were, I don’t know, performing a legal transaction.’
Orla gasped. ‘Are you buying into Gerard’s bar? Because he asked me and he was very insistent that the name would not be changing so?—’
‘I am asking you if you would like to find out who I am as a husband.’ He swallowed. ‘Badly. I think.’
She gasped again, looking at him with wide eyes, blinking. Saying nothing. Maybe it was too soon. He just knew it was harder and harder when she had to leave, and he missed her every second she was gone.
‘I… don’t know what to say,’ she answered.
‘Is it wrong for me to ask?’ Jacques said. ‘If it is too much pressure too soon we can pretend I meant investing in Gerard’s bar.’
‘No,’ Orla said, shaking her head. ‘It’s not that.’
‘Tell me.’
She sighed. ‘I just want to enjoy every part of my new journey, each second of our journey together and I don’t want to rush, I want to savour.’ She smiled. ‘And we only know how we are with each other in Saint-Chambéry. We’ve not been anywhere else… we should travel together, see all the places, I mean, what if I don’t like you in Japan?’
‘You would hate me in Japan. I cannot use chopsticks.’
‘Oh my God! Stop!’
‘You might hate me in Canada. When I take you on a tour of all the places Tommy broke bones.’
‘I want to know if I’ll like you in London,’ she told him seriously. ‘I want to know if you’ll like my parents.’
He sighed. ‘I think I should be more worried if they are going to like me.’
‘I have no doubt about that,’ she said, reassuringly, putting her arms around his neck.
‘So, you’re saying no?’ he asked, raising one eyebrow.
‘I’m not saying no,’ Orla said, smiling. ‘I’m saying “one day”. Definitely one day.’
‘Did you hear that, Cheeses?’ Jacques asked the foxes who were noses to the ground sniffing for scraps. ‘She said “definitely one day”.’
‘You’re crazy,’ Orla said, looking into his eyes.
‘And you… are everything,’ he answered, his heart full.
He kissed her then, with every ounce of passion he possessed and all the love that had grown between them since they had first met. It may have started as one winter in the mountains, but there were many chapters of their story just waiting to be written.