Chapter 28
28
Adeline dialled Stacey’s number, then after the phone began to ring she almost wished she hadn’t. But too late, Stacey answered the phone with a friendly ‘Hi!’
‘Hi, it’s Adeline from the shop,’ she said, feeling suddenly shy. ‘I thought I might take you up on that offer of a coffee, if you’ve got time?’
‘Sounds good to me!’ Stacey said, instantly friendly. ‘Everything all right?’
‘Yes. Well, kind of. There’s a couple of things…’
‘Long story?’
‘Long story.’
Once they’d agreed on the venue and time and ended the call, Adeline wondered whether she’d made a mistake. It was one thing to get to know a new person, quite another to dump what was proving to be a rather complicated dilemma in their lap. But something about Stacey – her openness, friendliness and the fact that she wasn’t part of the story herself – made her seem like the best option Adeline had when it came to unburdening herself and seeking advice .
Over the past few days, since Monique’s visit to Paris and her life-changing discovery, her friend had been quiet and withdrawn. It was hardly surprising; but Adeline was worried about her all the same. The combination of the revelation and Monique’s obvious shock had also meant she’d felt unable to tell Monique that her own mother had responded; it seemed the wrong time to ask advice about the meeting they were planning, wrong to offload her fears and hopes onto someone who had so much to process.
On the day that Monique had returned, pale-faced, to the shop, carrying the news that she’d never dared hope she’d receive, they’d sat up late into the night in the apartment, Lili fast asleep in Monique’s bed and excited to be having a ‘sleepover’ at her Mamie’ s.
Monique had told her how her mother – with misguided but loving intentions – had told her that her baby had died, in the hope that it would give her some sort of closure; free her from the idea that her child was out there somewhere and needed her. ‘She thought she was saving me from a lifetime of wondering, that I would grieve properly, deeply, but be able to move on with my life without the shadow of what had happened hanging over me.’
‘But what about when she realised how much it had affected you?’ Adeline had asked, incredulous.
‘Ah, she was trapped,’ Monique had said, pouring them both another glass of red wine. ‘She knew I was angry, that I blamed her first for the adoption and then for the fact that my baby had died – because I was convinced it would not have happened if she had been left with me. She wanted to mend things with me and was afraid that confessing would simply make things worse. And I think she still hoped that I would eventually be able to build a new life after my grief. ’
‘But you couldn’t…’
Monique, calmer after a couple of glasses of wine, had shrugged. ‘Well, I did in a fashion. Just not the kind of life my mother imagined I’d have. No husband. No more babies.’
Adeline had nodded. ‘And have you… will you be able to forgive her?’ she asked.
Monique had fixed her eyes on Adeline then. ‘ Oui ,’ she said. ‘I have already done it.’
This seemed incredible after decades of no contact and Adeline’s face had obviously registered surprise.
‘My mother is old,’ Monique explained. ‘I have punished her with years of silence, I see that now. And before, when I ran away, I was a child. I saw only what a child would see. That my mother had stolen my baby and did not understand my pain. And I carried that vision of my mother for so many years; something I had constructed in childhood. But now I am a woman, and I have known pain, known life. And I looked in my mother’s eyes and I saw that I had hurt her perhaps just as much as she had hurt me. I understood that her decision had not been easy as I had imagined, but done with love. Because I was young, and times were different. And she hoped so much for me.’
‘Well, that’s really generous of you.’
Monique shrugged. ‘Perhaps the child inside me will never fully forgive her, but the woman I am now can build something new with what time we have left. My sister,’ she added, taking a big sip of wine, ‘is another matter.’
‘Oh dear.’
‘ Oui , because she has watched the pain I have inflicted on my mother for all these years and she blames me for that. And of course she has petitioned me over and over again to visit to forgive, and I was stubborn and wouldn’t communicate. I understand. It will take time. But we are not so old. There will be time.’
‘And the baby…’ Adeline had hardly dared mention this fact. ‘What are you going to do? Are you going to try to find her?’
Monique sighed. ‘It is hard to imagine her after all this time. For so many years, I imagined her as a baby who had her life taken so young. It is hard to imagine her as a woman. As someone I might meet, perhaps. Yes, I want to find her. But like you, I am afraid.’
The days that had followed had been strange. Monique had seemed shaken and exhausted, and while they’d spoken about books and the weather and their customers, they hadn’t broached the subject of the baby again. And Adeline had not been able to say anything to Monique about her mother’s message, or the fact that she’d responded; that she’d found her mother lived in Toulouse, just a few hours away on the train.
But she needed to tell someone. Someone who knew both her and Monique, both of their stories.
School had resumed the day before, and Lili had reluctantly sloped into the playground before seeming to remember that she actually loved her time in the little stone building with the other children, and rushing forward to see her friends.
By the time Stacey arrived in the cafe, hanging her coat on the hat stand and looking around before breaking into a smile as their eyes met, Adeline was almost jittery with a combination of nerves and over-caffeination. She’d taken the morning off work with Monique’s permission to ‘meet a friend’ but had felt so restless at home she’d decided to sit in the cafe with a book until Stacey arrived .
Stacey plonked herself down unceremoniously in the chair opposite and grinned. ‘How’s things?’ she said. Then, before Adeline could respond, ‘Actually, hold that thought. Can I get you another coffee?’ She gestured to Adeline’s empty cup. ‘I’m gasping.’
‘I think I’d probably better get something less… stimulating,’ Adeline admitted. ‘I’ve managed to get through three of these things already.’
‘Orange juice?’
‘Perfect.’
Stacey made her way to the counter to place their order and returned with a tray, bearing an enormous latte and a tall glass of orange juice, complete with paper straw.
‘Right,’ she said, propping her elbows on the table and lifting her cup to her lips. ‘Spill.’
‘Are you sure you don’t mind? We hardly know each other. I feel a bit… it’s just I didn’t know who else to call.’
‘Course I’m sure,’ Stacey said, smiling. ‘Believe me, I’m settled here now, but it was tough at first. And I had Matt and the kids to offload to. So! Out with it!’
‘OK.’ Adeline prepared herself, taking a brief sip through her straw and feeling her taste buds fizz as the tangy orange broke through their coffee coating. ‘Here we go.’
She relayed her story, as far as she knew it, and saw Stacey’s eyes grow wider with every revelation.
‘Bloody hell, it’s like an episode of Coronation Street !’
‘Ha. I suppose it is. Coronation Street , en France .’
‘Sorry, I don’t mean to make light of it. It must be tough. Losing your mum like that, then finding out… and your boss having all that going on too.’ Stacey puffed out her cheeks in an expression of disbelief and expelled a noisy breath. ‘It is A LOT. I’m not surprised you needed to talk to someone. ’
‘Yes. And, you know… Thank you, for listening.’
‘So you’re going to see your mum?’
‘My birth mum, yes. Soon, actually.’
‘Bloody hell. And you’re dating André?’
‘I don’t know. No. I mean… We’re meeting for a drink. It’s just… I’m not sure I really want all that…’
‘All that? What – Provence’s most eligible bachelor, you mean?’
‘Provence’s?’
‘Oh OK, St Vianne’s at least.’
They smiled. Then Adeline shook her head. ‘I don’t know, Stacey. It just… I like him, obviously. But the last thing I need – Lili needs – is another man to let us down.’
‘Who says he’d do that?’
‘Bitter experience,’ Adeline said, making a face.
Stacey shook her head. ‘I hear you. But you know, maybe give him a chance. He really seems to like you.’
‘Yeah,’ Adeline agreed. ‘Quite a surprise after everything… I was sure he couldn’t stand me at one point.’
‘Very Pride and Prejudice, isn’t it? All the glowering and simmering tension, then whipping you up in his arms.’
‘I thought it was Coronation Street .’
‘ Coronation Street meets Jane Austen.’
They laughed, then gradually this died away as Adeline thought again about her mother, what might happen going forward. Stacey was right. It was A LOT. But having said it all out loud had given her a release. She felt more relaxed, more able to smile at it all.
Stacey shook her head. ‘Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty amazing.’
‘Really? ’
‘Yeah. Course. Coming here by yourself. Doing that test. Writing to your mum – your birth mum, I mean.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Plus bagging our resident hunk in the process.’
Adeline smiled. ‘One kiss,’ she said. ‘That’s all.’
‘So far,’ Stacey said, her eyes twinkling. ‘But seriously, your whole life has been blown apart but you’re… I dunno. You’re kind of working through it, and fixing it. I’d probably still be in the denial phase if it were me.’
‘Denial would definitely be easier.’
‘Wine helps,’ Stacey said with a wink.
They slipped into silence for a moment, both finishing the last of their drinks.
‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t be daft, it’s just an orange juice.’
‘No. For coming. For listening.’
Stacey reached a hand over and gave Adeline’s a squeeze. ‘You’re welcome, my love. And look – if it makes you feel any better, I’ve enjoyed it. It’s nice to feel like I’m helping. My kids are all far too big and self-sufficient for me these days. Nice to feel a bit like a mum again. Well, not a mum – you’ve got enough of those – but…’ she trailed off.
‘I know what you mean.’
‘Plus,’ Stacey added with a wicked grin, ‘I’ve always been a big fan of Coronation Street .’