Chapter 25
25
They worked quietly in the afternoon; fulfilling their usual roles, talking to customers, organising the shelves, reading the latest books to arrive in store. Monique spent more time in the apartment than usual, and found a few reasons to exit the shop entirely. It was clear that something was bothering her. Adeline suspected it was Monique’s own feelings about the baby she’d lost, brought to the fore by the fact that Adeline had found her mother.
During a quiet period, she took a break and, settling down with a cup of coffee, she finally wrote a reply to Kevin.
Dear Kevin,
Thanks for your email. Sorry it’s taken me so long to reply (useless as ever!).
It was great to see you too. And please do book more tickets – you are welcome anytime.
Glad to see you’re getting out there on the dating scene too.
I have some rather big news myself. You were right about the DNA test. I’ve got my results back and have been matched with a woman. Well, not a woman. My birth mother.
I can literally contact her by clicking a link and writing a message. But what do I say? And what will she say in return? I’m terrified.
You definitely think Mum wouldn’t have minded? And you don’t, do you? You know if Mum were still here, I’d be doing this anyway. This woman, whoever she turns out to be, whatever she’s like, she’ll never be the mum who brought me up. Just someone new – a new bit of information I guess. Something to piece together my puzzle.
Anyway, there you have it.
Thanks for getting me to do the DNA test.
Love you lots, bro
Addy xx
Adeline was just pressing ‘Send’ when the door opened and an older man walked in, smartly dressed in chinos and a corduroy jacket. He’d pushed the door quite forcefully and the bell jangled more loudly than usual, making her start and sit up straight.
At first, she didn’t recognise him – his hair was brushed and gelled and he was clean-shaven. But as he walked towards the counter, his body language uncharacteristically open, she realised he wasn’t a stranger at all.
‘Claude!’
‘ Bonjour, Madame ,’ he said, tipping his head slightly towards her. He smiled and although it wasn’t a wide, open smile of happiness, it was different from the sad smile he’d had previously.
Something must have happened.
‘You’re looking well! ’
‘ Merci .’ He gave a little nod. ‘I thought it might be time to smarten up. Violet, my wife, was always telling me I should make more effort.’ His smile, after these words, was tinged with sadness, but somehow his manner was lighter. He’d never mentioned Violet to her so openly before. ‘And perhaps it is time that I listened.’
She smiled. ‘Well, good for you. You look great.’
‘Ha, as Violet would say “better late than never”,’ he told her and she smiled and nodded her understanding.
He leaned on the counter then, his head tilting in her direction. ‘Thank you for the book.’ Then lowering his voice added: ‘And also for saying what you did about the doctor. I am an old man, a stubborn fool. Too proud to go to the doctor for my head, for my broken heart. But you were right.’
‘I’m so glad,’ she told him quietly.
‘It was always Violet before, who made me go,’ he added. ‘And now she spoke through you, perhaps.’
Adeline wasn’t quite sure how to respond to this – to say that she was simply being sensible, giving him advice she’d give anyone, without a nudge from the spiritual world. But it seemed cruel; it was nice for him to believe Violet had had a hand in things. She smiled and nodded her head.
‘ Bonjour, Monique,’ he said, turning and noticing Monique in the far corner, kneeling down next to a pile of books. She gave him a nod and he walked over and crouched down, speaking gently. Adeline watched as he reached out an arm and gave her a small rub on her upper back, as if comforting her.
She straightened, got to her feet with Claude’s help and they began to talk. It was hard not to listen and although Adeline busied herself with the order book, she couldn’t help but pick up snippets of their conversation.
‘I don’t know what to do, how to feel,’ Monique was saying .
Claude shook his head. ‘But I think that you do.’
She looked up at him, ‘Then what is it? What is the thing I must do?’
‘ Non , I do not know. But you do. Monique, you always know what to do. You are so in touch with instinct, emotion. You need to think what you would tell someone else. If someone came into your shop with this problem, what would you tell them?’
Monique looked at him, shaking her head. ‘I am not sure.’
‘But it is there,’ he insisted. ‘It is in your heart if you take a moment to listen.’
She nodded again, raising her face to his. Their eyes met and an understanding seemed to pass between them. Smiling, he turned and walked towards the door, stopping to say goodbye to Adeline before pulling it open. ‘I’ll be back later in the week for a new book,’ he said.
‘See you soon,’ Adeline called after him as the bell rang, signalling his exit.
Silence settled in his wake, like a blanket covering a birdcage, sending them back into their quiet, reflective state. Adeline busied herself, turning the pages of a new book and trying to get into it. She’d read more books in the weeks since she’d arrived than she had in the months beforehand and was thrilled that reading was now part of her job.
She’d begun to sink into the story of a young girl and her friend, finding entertainment in 1970s Yorkshire, when a voice by her ear made her jump. ‘… Un café ?’
‘Monique!’ she said, turning and touching her heart. ‘Sorry, I was miles away. But yes, please. I’d love one.’
Monique seemed to be in no hurry to disappear to the apartment to make it. She remained in place, her hands wringing together, her shoulders still slightly slumped. Then a decisive motion took over her body and she straightened. ‘I need to say that I’m sorry.’
‘Oh, Monique. What for?’
‘Ah, you are kind. But I have not been. I have been lost in my own selfish thoughts.’
‘Not at all,’ Adeline said, firmly.
‘ Mais si ! You have found your mother. It is incredible! And you must have a thousand emotions. You probably need a friend, to talk, and I have disappeared today. But it is because of my own sadness, you understand? I am very happy for you, but…’ she trailed off, not sure how to finish.
But she didn’t need to. Adeline was only too aware of what she was referring to. ‘I know,’ she said, softly. ‘I’m so sorry, Monique.’
‘Pah!’ Monique said, flapping her hand and looking much more like herself. ‘But your good fortune is not my bad fortune, n’est-ce pas ? We have similar stories, but they are not the same story. And what is good for you does not change my situation. I am truly, truly thrilled for you,’ she said, her eyes shining with emotion.
‘Thank you. That means a lot. Really.’
‘And have you written to your mother?’ she asked.
Adeline shook her head. ‘Not yet.’
Monique nodded. ‘But you will?’
‘I’m just afraid.’
‘Of course.’
Adeline felt the words suddenly pour out of her: ‘What if she doesn’t want me to get in touch? I know the fact that she’s on the site in the first place – well, it must mean something, mustn’t it? But what if she hasn’t even thought about it? What if I’m a bolt out of the blue; someone she’d left firmly in her past? What if?—? ’
She was stilled by a hand on her shoulder and looked up into Monique’s steady, intelligent eyes.
‘“Mama never forgets her birds.” Your mother will want to hear from you. I know it.’
‘You feel it?’ A month or two ago, Adeline would have scoffed at the idea someone might sense something, might have an instinct about something without evidential proof. But now, her need for reassurance overwhelmed her scepticism. And perhaps it was more than that, she thought. Perhaps she was starting to believe a little in Monique’s ability.
‘ Oui . I do not know her, of course. But I feel it as a mother. In my heart. She will want to hear from you, I promise.’
They smiled at each other for a moment and Adeline was struck with the thought that, in some ways, Monique had become a little like a mother to her. Nobody would ever fill the void left by her adoptive mum, but she’d become a confidante, a trusted friend – one that Adeline had needed more than she’d realised.
‘Was that Dickinson? The line you quoted about a Mama and her birds?’ Adeline asked, recognising the words but unable to reach them.
‘ Oui , it is a beautiful poem. A mother is always a mother. Whether she is here or elsewhere, or even in heaven. She watches. She loves.’
She looks down just as often
And just as tenderly
As when her little mortal nest
With cunning care she wove
Adeline felt the shudder of grief move through her body like ripples from the impact of a stone splitting the surface of the water. Memories hit her in waves: her mother’s hand, pale and thin, squeezing hers for the last time. Her mother, fit and well, laughing at the table. The same mother, her hand younger and plumper, holding Adeline’s on the way to school, or walking in town, or through a busy market. At that age, she’d had a feeling of being safely cocooned in her mother’s love and when Mum had been there, she’d feared nothing.
As she’d grown, she’d learned that even mums have limitations, but that sense of security, the sense of steadiness her mum had imparted from the start had given her a platform of ease on which to build. When Mum had gone, she’d felt untethered, but the words Monique had spoken resonated. She hoped beyond anything that there was a place in which her mother could look down on her, still be there in a sense in her life. Adeline had never believed in God, had never believed in spirits or ghosts – she’d had no need to; everyone she had ever loved had still been at her side. And it was probably a mixture of wishful thinking and sadness that made her find truth in these words now. But the idea gave her comfort anyway.
‘I hope so,’ was all she could manage to say. Then, ‘And what about you? I heard Claude ask what you would advise someone in your position. Are you OK?’
Monique lifted a shoulder briefly. ‘ Oui . I suppose you finding your mother, it has made me think of mine. And to think perhaps if you forgive your mother, I should think about mine too. Because maybe she did what she did because she truly thought it best. I should at least listen, I think. It was not her fault my baby died; she wanted us both to live, and thought this was the best way.’
Adeline nodded. ‘That’s very brave of you.’
Monique laughed properly then. ‘After several decades, I finally have the courage to confront her! Perhaps that is not so brave.’
It was Adeline’s turn to shrug. ‘Well, I think it is,’ she said with a small smile. ‘And I really hope you can find some answers; something to help you.’
A customer entered – a small woman Adeline hadn’t seen before – and the moment was broken. But she worked the rest of the afternoon in a dreamlike state – knowing that while nothing had changed in her life yet, perhaps everything was just about to.