Chapter 1
1
From the back of the taxi, Adeline stared out at the darkened streets; the houses shrouded by deep shadows barely pierced by the dull glow of scattered orange street lamps. Lili was curled up, snuggled under her favourite blanket and nestled into her side, her long, dark lashes stark against her pale skin. That side of Adeline’s body was warm, a little sticky with sweat. The other remained cold. Adeline had not expected to be so late; she had only worn a light jumper.
Through the tinted window she tried to make out the shapes of things, the size of buildings; to imagine what her surroundings would look like once the sun rose. But the stark gleam of the taxi’s headlights was edged with a cloak of blackness that restricted her view and simply showed an empty, uneven and expressionless road ahead.
She had wanted to arrive in the daytime. Delays at the airport, and an interminable wait for first their luggage, then the taxi, had shattered this hope and now she simply hoped that she would be able to find the cottage; that the key would be in the lockbox as promised and that the electricity would have been switched on for their arrival.
It would be different if she was alone, she thought, lightly rubbing Lili’s arm as her child slept. Alone, she could let herself in and simply collapse on a settee or mattress or whatever sparse furniture might be in place. But with Lili only five years old, she knew she had to find the right spot, to make sure there were blankets, that her child would be safe and warm. And God forbid she hadn’t packed ‘Bunny.’
The driver was silent; he’d started with platitudes – asking about their holiday, the reason for their travels, complimenting her on her French. Her responses had disappointed him, she knew, but she was too tired to explain her life to a stranger and had kept her replies monosyllabic at best. In the end, the conversation had petered out – perhaps he thought her French wasn’t as fluent as he’d believed at first. She felt a little rude – but actually it was a blessing in disguise for the driver. If she unloaded all her angst, her reason for being here, her worries, onto him, he’d probably wind up thoroughly depressed.
She glimpsed herself occasionally in the blackened glass of the back seat window, a white face hovering against the dark, her shadowed eyes and straight mouth, her forehead creased with worry.
Eventually the taxi bumped to a halt and she stepped out, a half-woken Lili leaning heavily against her. The driver placed their cases by her feet and she thanked him, then turned towards the green front door.
As promised, the little lockbox was there and she punched in the code, relieved when it dropped open to reveal a key. She slipped it into the lock and pushed the door open to their new life.
It had taken her a while to sink into sleep last night, so when she woke, Lili standing mischievously refreshed and bright-eyed next to her, she felt sluggish and weighed down. But she tried to smile at the indignant little girl at her side. ‘Morning, precious,’ she said.
‘It’s dirty.’
‘What’s dirty?’
The light which fell through the unshuttered windows revealed a whitewashed room with elegant – if a little dated – furnishings, including the antique bed she’d fallen into, with its starched sheet and silk counterpane, and an ornate washbasin at the edge of the room with a rusty smudge of age-old water. Spiders had woven webs in the corners and dust particles, displaced by the new inhabitants, danced and sparkled. Even so, the sudden dislike of dirt was pretty rich coming from a girl who did everything she could to avoid having to clean her teeth each night.
‘Everything,’ Lili said, screwing up her face in a way meant to show distaste but that instead made her look even more adorable than usual.
Adeline smiled and propped herself up on her elbows. ‘Well, the house has been empty for a while, that’s all,’ she said. ‘We can soon clean it. There’s some beautiful furniture in here!’
Lili looked doubtful but gave a small, brief nod.
Unlike her daughter, Adeline had been pleasantly surprised at the house; had worried it might be damp or dingy or uninhabitable in a number of different ways, despite assurances on the phone from the landlady. Yet it was light and, while rudimentary, freshly painted and more than adequate for the two of them. Lili was used to the straight lines, fresh plaster and the kind of order that comes with a newly decorated house in England. It would take her some time to get used to the exposed stone, the gaping fireplace, the wooden stairs with their worn treads. But Adeline already saw the beauty in all of it – perhaps she had been right to come.
‘Come on,’ she said, suddenly throwing the covers back and swinging her legs around. ‘Get dressed and we’ll get croissants for breakfast.’
Her daughter’s nose screwed up again. ‘Frosties?’ she asked.
Adeline laughed. ‘I’m sure we can get some later. For tomorrow. But we’ll have to make do with fresh pastries from the boulangerie for breakfast I’m afraid.’ It was tongue-in-cheek but Lili, used to sugary cereal and cold milk, sighed and nodded her head.
‘OK, Mum,’ she said, resigned.
Minutes later, they were crossing the narrow road outside their house in hurriedly pulled on clothing, standing in the queue outside the boulangerie behind an elderly man in a blue jacket who turned and gave them a brief bonjour . Behind the counter, a young man with sandy brown hair and impressive biceps was wrapping a baguette expertly in a sheet of thin, brown paper. He wore a white apron over blue jeans and a black T-shirt, slightly dusted with flour. As he turned the baguette over with a flourish, his tongue hovered at the side of his mouth. He was almost too good-looking and Adeline’s longing, hungry gaze soon grew tired of pains au chocolat and rested instead on the tasty morsel serving them.
‘Mummy,’ said Lili quietly, tugging at Adeline’s hand and interrupting her thoughts.
‘What is it?’ she said, looking at the little, inquisitive eyes fixed on hers .
‘Why are you staring at that man?’
Adeline felt her neck get hot. Had she been? ‘I wasn’t, silly,’ she said, hoping any anglophones eavesdropping would hear her denial. ‘I was looking at the croissants. Don’t they look tasty!’
There was a slight snort behind her and she turned, her brow furrowed, to meet the sparkling black eyes of an old lady in a green coat. The woman gave a small shrug and winked, her mouth stretched in a delighted smile.
Was she laughing at Adeline? It was true, she had been staring at the man behind the counter, but in her defence, he was extremely good-looking. Adeline gave a reciprocal shrug of her shoulders and smiled, hoping that covered all eventualities.
The man handed the baguette to the woman at the front of the queue, looking up briefly. His eyes alighted on Adeline and they exchanged a smile.
Adeline had been aware of people watching her and Lili on their way across the courtyard and now in the queue. St Vianne was small and she’d expected to be noticed. Most people she passed nodded or smiled, although one or two affected not to have seen them at all. The patissier had acknowledged her as a stranger, but his smile – albeit brief – had been welcoming.
Another woman joined the queue behind them and soon began talking to the man in front, over the head of Lili and past Adeline whom she apparently assumed couldn’t understand.
‘It is early in the season for tourists.’
‘Yes, but they come earlier each year. It’s good for the businesses.’
‘But not for the town.’
‘Perhaps.’
Adeline felt her cheeks flush as she realised they were discussing her and was tempted to say something sharp. Luckily, she was able to hold her tongue – it wouldn’t do to get off to a bad start when she’d yet to even meet Monique. ‘Actually, I’m here to work,’ she said instead, in perfect French.
The conversation stopped, both participants wrong-footed by her understanding of their conversation; her flawless French spoken with only a hint of a British accent.
‘Sorry, Madame ,’ the man said. ‘It was rude of us.’
‘No matter,’ she said and smiled.
He returned her smile and held out his hand. ‘Patrick Delage.’
‘Adeline Townsend.’ She gave him her hand for a small shake, then turned to the woman whose face still seemed fixed. ‘And you are…?’
‘Eva Lenore.’ The woman nodded but didn’t hold her hand out for a shake.
‘Nice to meet you,’ Adeline said, as if Eva’s greeting had been perfectly civil.
‘And where is it you’ll be working?’ Patrick enquired.
‘La Petite Librairie – the bookshop.’
His eyes widened slightly. ‘Oh!’ He glanced quickly across at Eva, a momentary shadow seeming to cross his face. ‘I see.’
‘Oh, and this is Lili, my daughter. Say bonjour , Lili!’ Adeline added.
Lili, who had a rudimentary grasp of French (Adeline had read T’Choupi and Lili books to her on alternate nights to Peter Rabbit and Peppa Pig , and her daughter had followed the stories fascinated, her young malleable brain taking in the fricative ‘r’s and the absent ‘h’s and picking up the language with ease) hid behind her mother’s legs and remained silent. When Adeline told people that Lili was bilingual, they’d make remarks like ‘amazing’ and ‘wow’ – and marvel that Adeline, as a single mum, had the time to tutor her. And they were right – it was difficult to fit it all in, to find energy to do all the things she did for Lili. But that was the point, wasn’t it? When people are expecting you to fail, you have to work twice as hard to prove that you can rise to the challenge.
When her ex-love rat boyfriend, Colin, had baulked at the idea of being a father and even suggested an abortion six years ago when Adeline had fallen pregnant, she’d known she’d be doing this alone. She’d been warned by so many people how hard it was going to be. But easier to parent single than parent with someone who doesn’t care, she’d thought, as she’d released Colin from all his obligations – telling him that she didn’t need a penny from him and that as far as she was concerned, he was better off out of the picture – an option he’d taken with great relief.
‘She’s shy,’ Adeline said, but Patrick had already reached the front of the queue and was ordering his pain . Eva nodded once in response and gave a tight smile. ‘Well, nice to meet you!’ Adeline stroked Lili’s hair reassuringly. It was difficult in this unfamiliar place; she shouldn’t expect her daughter to suddenly start chatting to strangers in their native tongue.
In the end, she selected a pain aux raisins and a chocolatine, hoping they’d be more palatable for Lili than croissants. The man gave her the briefest of mercis as she handed over the last of her euros – she’d have to withdraw more cash later, perhaps there was a bank in the centre? – and took the proffered paper bag with its buttery contents back across the road and back through the green door. Inside, she laid two plates on the table and split the pastries in half so Lili could taste each one.
It was an hour before she had to be at the bookshop and she felt a flutter of nerves as she sank her teeth into the pain aux raisins . But they were good nerves, she decided. Because perhaps now she would find her true home. And if not, judging by the delicious treats produced over the road, she could easily drown any sorrows she experienced in butter, chocolate and flaky pastry.