Chapter 18
18
The next morning, they walked Lili to school together, each holding a hand. The air was cool, but with the promise of sun later; the clouds glowed golden and once in a while, a ray would emerge through the whiteness and flood the road with light.
The little girl chattered and skipped and swung herself on their arms, making the most of every moment and excited for Kevin to see where she went to school. Once they’d dropped her off and watched her race into the playground, delighted to show them how fast she could run, they turned to each other and smiled.
‘It’s a shame you can’t stay a bit longer,’ Adeline said.
‘I know,’ he agreed. ‘It’s actually been really nice.’
‘Well, don’t sound so surprised!’
He grinned. ‘Well, you rushed off so quickly, and hadn’t seemed to think things through. I had no idea how you’d be living. I imagined you in some derelict farmhouse somewhere.’
She laughed.
‘But this place… well, it’s a community.’
‘It is,’ she said, pleased .
They began to walk back towards the house. Monique had told her she needn’t come in for a couple of hours this morning, to give her a chance to see Kevin off properly, and she’d accepted gratefully.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said out of nowhere as they passed the patisserie.
Adeline, looking through the glass, saw André serving a customer. She gave him a nod and he smiled back. ‘What for?’ she asked, feeling a shiver of pleasure that things were clearly OK with André now.
Kevin kicked a stone, suddenly boyish in his stance. ‘I had this idea that I’d come here, give you the DNA test – you know, a way of finding out your roots. And I guess, rescue you from it all. Bring you back to London.’ He laughed, lightly, and shook his head. ‘I’d been so worried about you, especially with you not answering emails. I just imagined you were in a state.’
‘Oh, Kev,’ she wrapped an arm around his back.
‘What?’
‘I’m sorry. For worrying you. It was selfish.’
‘It’s OK,’ he said, giving her a quick squeeze in return. ‘I get it. Although don’t do that again, will you?’
‘Promise.’
‘Pinky promise?’ he joked and she laughed, remembering little promises they’d made as children not to tell their parents about hidden sweet stashes or midnight feasts, or the fact that one or the other of them had got in trouble at school.
‘Pinky promise,’ she agreed.
He was silent for a moment, then continued. ‘What I’m trying to say is… I was wrong. You’re obviously not in a state. And you’ve made a nice life for yourself here – already. Lili seems happy. You seem pretty happy?’ He looked at her face as if for confirmation .
She shrugged. ‘I’m OK.’ She made a face. ‘At least I think so.’
He laughed. ‘Welcome to the club.’
The silence resumed, but it was companiable and they reached her front door. Just inside, Kevin’s suitcase was waiting, leaning against the wall and reminding them how limited their time now was.
‘Come back, won’t you?’ she said.
‘You know me. Never say no to a cheap holiday.’
She laughed and gave him a little shove. Kevin, as a pretty successful architect, wasn’t short of money, but they often joked about his frugality – the result of their not having much money as they’d grown up.
‘Careful. Don’t want your burly protector launching himself at me,’ he said and they both laughed.
‘Sorry about that.’
‘It’s OK. It’s nice to think you have friends looking out for you.’
‘He’s not really a friend .’
‘Well, what would you call him?’
‘I just…’ But it was too complicated; they didn’t have time. Kevin’s taxi would be here soon. Instead, she offered a cup of tea and they made their way through to the kitchen where he sat waiting patiently, fiddling with the corner of a coaster.
‘What’s up?’ she asked, setting his mug in front of him and wondering at this suddenly silent version of her usually talkative brother.
‘Just thinking.’
‘Careful!’ she joked.
‘I think I need to do it too,’ he said.
‘What? Move to France?’
He laughed. ‘No, I think I’m a London boy through and through,’ he admitted. ‘But you know. Find myself. After Mum, after everything. I’m a thirty-three-year-old bloke feeling lonely because his sister’s having an adventure. How sad is that!’
‘Aw, don’t be silly. You just wanted to sort things out. And a lot of that was my fault. I get it.’
‘Yeah, but this has all made me realise I’ve kind of let my life get swallowed up too,’ he admitted. ‘So much focus on Mum, and of course that’s what we both wanted to do. But it made my world shrink. And maybe it’s time I think about what I want. I was convinced I was trying to fix your life, but maybe your going just showed me how small mine’s become.’
She slipped into the chair opposite him and grabbed his hand. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘I guess we’re both kind of rebuilding things after everything that happened. And maybe that’s OK.’
‘We’re in this together?’ he offered.
She laughed. ‘Both losers.’
Their eyes met and there he was again, her affable, upbeat big brother. ‘Ha. Yes,’ he agreed. ‘Both complete and utter losers.’
By the time the taxi came the atmosphere between them was upbeat. And as she waved her brother off, she felt a sense of freedom. That she had someone in the world who loved her enough to let her make her choices, mistakes, decisions and support her no matter what. Monique was right – there was no doubt that blood or no blood, Kevin was her real brother.
With her late start, her time in the bookshop passed quickly and it was soon four thirty. She slipped out of the shop and took the short walk to the school to pick up Lili. Waiting outside, she exchanged a few words with the other mums and, although she didn’t know them very well yet, realised that she felt part of a collective whole; no longer so much on the outside.
Lili raced towards her when she exited the classroom, and flung her backpack at Adeline’s feet. Adeline picked it up and slung it over her own shoulder then bent down to smooth Lili’s hair back into place. Her daughter often looked adorably rumpled after school – eyes bright, and usually quite well-rested after the afternoon siesta all the children were encouraged to have.
‘Good day?’ she said.
‘Lunch was disgusting,’ her daughter told her seriously. ‘Too much spinach.’
She nodded. ‘Oh dear. What else did you do today?’
Lili shrugged. ‘I dunno.’
Her daughter seemed to have a switch that clicked the moment she reached her mother, separating her life at school from her home life. At first, Adeline had thought that maybe Lili was hiding something from her, but she’d come to realise that Lili genuinely couldn’t remember. School was compartmentalised in another area of her brain – she’d now tucked it away until tomorrow.
Refusing to hold her hand, Lili skipped ahead on the narrow pavement, Adeline keeping an eye out for cars in case her daughter stepped out into the road. There were never many, but they came up unexpectedly sometimes.
And then they were outside La Petite Librairie, where Lili would draw or snuggle up with a book until it was time to close. ‘Can I have my bag?’ Lili asked unexpectedly.
Adeline removed it from her shoulder and gave it to her little girl who placed it on the ground outside the shop, unzipped it and began rifling through.
‘Can’t you do that inside?’ Adeline asked, as a couple of pencils fell onto the pavement and rolled away.
‘No!’ Lili said, still rifling, ‘It’s a surprise.’ Finally, she found what she was looking for and drew out a rather crumpled piece of paper with a drawing of a stick woman wearing a triangular dress.
Underneath, in wavering letters, Lili had written the word Mamie.
‘Is this for Monique?’ Adeline asked, trying to keep her voice light.
‘Yes,’ Lili replied, snatching the picture back. ‘ Don’t look! ’
‘It’s a lovely picture,’ Adeline said carefully, picking up the pencils for her daughter and slipping them back into the bag. ‘And I’m sure she’ll love it. But, darling. You know that Monique isn’t your granny, your mamie , don’t you?’ She crouched down and looked into her daughter’s eyes.
Lili looked away. ‘Yes, she is.’
‘No, darling. Your granny was in England, remember? She got poorly and she had to go to heaven.’
Lili scowled. ‘I know about Granny, but Monique is my Mamie . All the children at school drew pictures for their Papi and Mamie and I wanted to too.’ She stamped her foot in its bright white trainer.
‘OK,’ Adeline said. ‘I mean it’s OK to call her that sometimes. But Monique is more of a… a friend who seems a bit like a mamie to you. You do understand that?’
‘No, she is ,’ her daughter said again.
Adeline straightened, feeling an ache in her thighs.
‘I know. I know you think that,’ she said, feeling tired and wondering whether it was worth trying to explain complicated relationships to her daughter.
Then: ‘Monique is my mamie because I feel it here,’ Lili insisted. She patted her hand against her chest and looked at Adeline defiantly.
Feeling a little shiver, Adeline looked at her daughter’s fiery eyes. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Monique hasn’t… she’s never told you she’s your mamie , has she?’
Lili shrugged, unwilling to say anything else.
‘Lili.’
‘She’s my mamie ,’ her daughter said, stubbornly.
Adeline sighed. She’d talk to her more about it later; she clearly wasn’t going to get through to her now.
But as she opened the door and Lili ran forward, flinging herself around Monique’s legs and giving the woman a huge squeeze – much to Monique’s delight – Adeline thought back to what Kevin had said. Her daughter was already putting down roots, establishing a sense of connection. And if she wasn’t careful, soon the decision on their future might become all the more complicated.
As she watched, shutting the door behind her, the bell jangling a warning, she saw Monique bend down and take Lili properly into her arms for an enormous hug, and she felt a tug of unease.