Chapter 21
21
She’d slept fitfully the night before, so of course Lili had chosen that day to wake up early and bounce on her bed from around 6a.m. Groaning, she turned over and pulled what she could of the duvet over her. ‘Lili, it’s early,’ she said. ‘Mummy needs a rest.’
But Mummy clearly wasn’t going to get a rest. Lili stopped bouncing, but wriggled and fidgeted so much, Adeline realised that there was no point at all trying to cling onto sleep. Instead, she shifted herself up so she was half sitting, and looked at her inquisitive daughter.
‘You’re awake!’ Lili said delightedly, as if she’d had absolutely no part in this.
‘Yes,’ Adeline replied, unable to stop herself smiling at the tousled, excited girl in front of her.
‘It’s the holidays!’
‘Yes, it is!’ Adeline said, trying to inject a similar excited tone into her own voice. She felt a little guilty, as Lili would be spending at least some of the holidays in the local playscheme, and some ‘helping’ her and Monique in the bookshop. Still, she supposed it would be exciting for her – probably more exciting than spending every day at home with her mum.
Today, she’d planned to visit the swimming lake 15 kilometres from St Vianne. The weather was warm enough to spend a little time on the sandy beach she’d been told was there, and maybe if they were feeling particularly brave, they could dip their toes into the edges of the water and have a little paddle. The taxi would cost them forty euros each way and she’d baulked at the expense, but with the majority of Lili’s holiday being taken up following her mum to work, she’d decided to splash out.
If she stayed, if she decided to make St Vianne her home, then she’d have to invest in a car – something small, modest, in keeping with the little cars people seemed to drive around here. But right now, with so few journeys and so much uncertainty hanging over her, it made more sense to pay the one-off taxi fare.
Two hours later, they’d washed, packed – ambitiously, she’d added her and Lili’s swimming costumes, but doubted she’d be brave enough to actually go in – and they were standing outside waiting for the taxi. Sunday morning started slowly in St Vianne, but the warmth had driven walkers and their dogs out for a morning stroll. She nodded to familiar faces and exchanged a few pleasantries with one of the regular bookshop customers.
Then their taxi arrived – a slightly dented white vehicle with a yellow light on top. They slipped into the back and, as Lili chatted to the driver, Adeline looked out of the window and watched the final houses of St Vianne slip past her and the countryside begin to take over. Views stretched over lower ground on either side, and a slight mist hung over the river that snaked forwards out of sight. The sky was a brilliant blue and the sunlight bright; although the air was still on the cool side, the forecast had promised highs in the low 20s – practically summer in Adeline’s book.
Her eyes glazed as she took in the view, and then she was back in the shop, handing that book to Claude, feeling again that sense of purpose – an urgent need to pair him with the book she felt could heal him. A few bumps in the road startled her out of the daydream, and she realised they’d turned down a small track; probably the route to the lake. They passed a closed restaurant and bar, a couple of holiday chalets with darkened windows, a children’s playpark that had Lili pressing her face against the glass to see a slightly wonky see-saw and swing set. And finally, the road opened out into a car park.
It was half past ten, and Adeline was surprised to see the car park almost empty, other than two camper-vans and a motorbike leaning casually on its stand. She’d thought the beach would be busy today – the hottest of the year so far, and a Sunday to boot.
She paid the driver, thanked him, and asked him to pick them up at four in the afternoon. Then she and Lili exited into air that whilst still on the cool side, held the promise of later warmth every time the sun’s rays exited from behind the cluster of white clouds that had formed en route.
‘Come on!’ she said to Lili with enthusiasm she didn’t yet feel. ‘Let’s find somewhere great to set up.’ The little girl raced ahead, infected by Adeline’s apparent excitement, and she felt a pang of guilt that she wasn’t as into the idea as she’d pretended to be. Her mind was cast back to a beachside holiday in Cornwall, splashing in the shallows with Mum, eating fresh crab sandwiches and ready-salted crisps, drinking hot tea from a flask after a soaking by the sea. Her mother’s laughing face, delighted at everything Adeline had done .
Had her mother been feeling as weary as she did as she fixed on a smile and pulled a plastic spade from her backpack? Had the outward display of reckless abandon been a carefully orchestrated show for her and Kevin? Each stage of motherhood Adeline entered made her feel closer to her mum somehow; she’d slipped behind the curtain of childhood and was seeing how everything worked backstage. She wished Mum were here so she could answer the questions that Adeline hadn’t known to ask back then.
‘What’s the matter?’ Lili asked.
Adeline jumped a little. ‘Sorry. Mummy was just dreaming for a moment.’
Lili seemed satisfied with this response and pointed to the spot on the sand she’d chosen. ‘Here!’ she said proudly as if she’d discovered something unique and amazing at the random little patch of sand.
‘Perfect,’ said Adeline, unfurling a towel and laying it down for them to sit on. She set the backpack at one end, and slipped off her shoes and set them at the other in case the breeze got any ideas about whipping the towel away. ‘You start,’ she said to her daughter, handing over the spade. ‘I’ll just a have a little rest, then I’ll join you.’
Lili didn’t need telling twice. She was soon drawing out shapes in the sand with the corner of the spade, mapping out the ambitious design of a castle that was clearly going to take all of their construction skills combined to create.
Looking across the scene, Adeline watched a small dog at the lakeside, trotting and dancing in front of a man who’d occasionally throw a ball into the shallows for the dog to splashily retrieve. To the side, a couple sat on a picnic blanket, sipping something warm from a flask. There were a couple of older children – possibly around ten years old or so – kicking up sand at the water’s edge. Otherwise, the beach was empty.
Perhaps everyone was waiting until the afternoon, she thought. Lunch, she knew, was sacrosanct in France – probably people would be in the restaurants or at home with family, then hit the beach later on. She wasn’t too disappointed. It would be nice to see a few more faces, have a few more sights and sounds to add to the atmosphere, but in some ways, it was nice to have this privacy, a little slice of paradise just for the two of them.
She pulled the flask of coffee she’d made before setting off from her bag and poured herself a tiny serving in the small cup that served both as a lid and a receptacle. Sipping the hot liquid, she hoped it would give her the impetus she needed to build what by now looked like the plan for an entire medieval village.
‘I see Monique has given you a holiday at last!’
The voice made her jump. She opened her eyes and saw the face of someone standing behind her, looking over, his face stretched into an enormous smile.
‘Michel!’ she said.
‘ Oui, c’est moi ,’ he said, moving around to face them. Lili looked up briefly from her digging then went back to work, clearly too busy to be interrupted.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, almost clapping her hand over her mouth after the question escaped it.
He laughed, clearly amused, and rocked back on his heels slightly. ‘Ah, even professors get weekends. I am here to paint.’ He nodded to a leather case under his arm which apparently contained his art materials. ‘The light is perfect here,’ he added, looking across the sun-dappled water; ‘I often come at weekends.’
‘Oh. Monique didn’t mention that when she recommended this spot to me. ’
They looked at each other for a moment, sizing up the situation. Another engineered meeting?
‘Well, hope it goes well!’ she said. ‘Unless you want a cup of coffee?’ She waved the tiny flask and laughed.
He stepped forward, and she was sure he was about to move off, then realised that he was actually moving to the spare piece of towel. Before she’d had time to say anything – although honestly, what would she have said? – he’d plonked himself down next to her, so close that they were almost touching. ‘Thank you, that is very kind.’
A British person probably would have known Adeline’s offer had been a friendly rebuff – an offer made in the certainty of polite rejection. Only the nuance was lost on Michel.
She tried to calm the slight annoyance she felt at his presumption – because she’d actually offered, she had to remind herself – and instead tipped the last drops of coffee from her cup and rinsed it out using water from Lili’s bottle, before pouring him a fresh cup.
‘ Merci ,’ he said, blowing steam from the top of the black liquid. ‘This is exactly what I need.’
‘No problem.’
They settled into silence, Adeline still feeling a little out of sorts at the thought that Monique might have recommended the beach to her for a very specific reason. She’d have to have words with her boss – but how?
‘Ah, so Lili is now on holiday,’ Michel said, his voice close to her ear.
‘Yes.’
A silence fell over them.
‘I am sorry, I’m interrupting,’ he said, sensing the atmosphere.
She felt suddenly guilty. ‘No, not really. I just… ’
He looked at her, his eyes so intelligent, it felt as if he were reading her. She sighed; there was no point in beating around the bush. ‘It’s just Monique. Do you think she’s trying to – I don’t know… work her magic with us?’
Michel let out a small bark of laughter. ‘Possibly. You never quite know with her. But no matter. We are friends, right? It’s good to bump into each other.’
Adeline felt herself relax. ‘Yes,’ she said.
‘And I did want to talk to you a little,’ he admitted. ‘About the fight I had with Monique. I don’t want you to think I’m a monster!’
‘Goodness, no. Not at all!’
He sipped the last of the coffee and set the tiny cup down next to him. ‘Did she tell you what we fought about?’
Suddenly her cheeks were hot. ‘Oh, no. She hasn’t really said anything. It was just… well, I was only downstairs when it happened. It was… pretty obvious something was up.’
He gave a half-smile. ‘The platter?’
She nodded. ‘The platter.’ They exchanged a grin.
‘It nearly took my bloody head off,’ he said, but he was grinning. ‘Don’t worry, I have fast reflexes. Like a panther!’
She laughed as he held his hands up to resemble claws.
‘Look, I am Monique’s friend,’ he continued. ‘Her family, almost. And I don’t want to betray her. But I think perhaps it is important I tell you what we were fighting about.’
She turned towards him, eyes wide. ‘Oh, no. Don’t. It’s fine. It’s none of my business, I?—’
‘ Mais it is your business I think, Adeline. We were fighting about you.’
‘About me?’ Her voice came out louder than expected and Lili looked up with a frown. She smiled at her daughter to reassure her that everything was all right. ‘It’s looking great, darling! I’ll help in a minute.’
‘ Oui . About you.’ Michel repeated.
She looked at him and gave a little, almost imperceptible nod, permission to continue.
He sighed. ‘You know already of course that Monique had a baby. Well, when I was there, staying, she confessed to me that she thinks you might be her daughter. That she can feel it.’ He tapped his chest and rolled his eyes as if it were a ridiculous notion.
Everything in Adeline’s body suddenly felt as if it were on high alert. ‘She does?’ Adeline’s heart began to thunder. Because if she was honest, she’d started to have her suspicions too. Had felt something; a connection that seemed to go deeper than she could explain.
He looked at her, his gaze steady.
‘It’s just…’ she said, aware now that she was gabbling a little. ‘I know it’s far-fetched, but I was actually adopted. I don’t know if Monique told you that? And I know that my mother – my birth mum – was French, and very young. And that Monique?—’
‘ Non ,’ he said. The word was so cold and stark that it cut her off mid-flow and she found herself looking at his face, the clouded expression; his knitted brow. ‘It is not possible. Monique, she is deluding herself. It is a fantasy.’
‘But you don’t know everything!’ she said. ‘Yes, maybe it was too long ago; maybe her baby was born years before I was. But even you must see that there’s a possibility. She’s very vague on the dates. And people have remarked that we’re similar. I… well, I felt something in the shop. A connection. And there’s…’ she stopped abruptly, not quite sure how to explain what had happened with Claude, and how she might share Monique’s strange gift. She wasn’t ready to acknowledge that yet .
He was shaking his head at her and she almost had the urge to shove him. Perhaps Monique’s platter-throwing had been justified after all. What made him the authority on this? It barely concerned him.
He put his hand on her arm and she flinched a little but let it stay. ‘Adeline, I was afraid this might happen. Afraid for you.’
‘Afraid?’
‘Yes. That you might start to hope. That Monique might make you wonder…’ he shook his head. ‘Adeline, I am sorry but even if the timing were right with your age – and it isn’t – I can say with certainty that Monique is not your mother.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
He looked at her, his brown eyes deep pools of sadness, full of pity and honesty. ‘Because, yes, Monique had a baby,’ he said. ‘But Adeline, her baby died.’