Chapter 29
29
‘Stand still!’ Adeline told wriggling Lili as she tried to tie the ribbon on her dress into a bow. She stood back and Lili twirled gleefully.
‘Ah, but you are beautiful!’ Monique said, smiling.
It was eight o’clock, and after work, Monique had made Adeline and Lili dinner in the flat – a boeuf bourguignon that she’d had in the slow cooker for most of the day – and was now helping Adeline prepare Lili’s costume for the upcoming spectacle at the school. Lili’s only instructions had been to be as colourful as possible, so the brief was an open one. Adeline had brought over one of Lili’s dresses and Monique had helped her fasten ribbons and bows to the costume until it glowed with the colours of the rainbow. Lili walked over to the mirror they’d propped against a wall for the purpose and admired herself, her face glowing.
It was probably time to ask, Adeline thought.
She looked at Monique, who’d seemed to come back into herself over the last few days. Michel had come to see her a couple of times; clearly talking it through with him had helped Monique to come to terms with everything. Adeline still hadn’t felt able to bring the subject up again though, and because of that had also been reluctant to mention her own potential reunion. But it was time.
‘I’m going to need a day off on Monday, if that’s possible?’ she asked.
Monique looked up from where she was winding ribbons around her fingers to store back in the empty biscuit tin she kept odds and ends in, a question in her face. ‘Of course. I hope everything is OK?’
‘Yes. Actually, I’m going to Toulouse. On Sunday, and staying over.’ She paused. ‘I’ve arranged to see Sophia, my – well – my birth mother.’ Her hands felt hot and she found herself fidgeting uncomfortably.
Monique turned quickly to look at her, her eyes unreadable. ‘Well, that is wonderful! Why didn’t you mention this before?’
‘It just didn’t seem the right time,’ she admitted, looking down.
Monique nodded, taking it in. ‘Well of course you can have all the time you need.’
‘Thank you.’
There was a silence. ‘I will come with you, if you want? The shop does not open on Mondays in any case,’ said Monique abruptly.
‘Oh, no. It’s fine. I’ll be – we’ll be fine.’
‘But I think it would be helpful. I can mind Lili while you speak to your mother. And perhaps help you in the evenings with her. And besides, I have a feeling… I think it might be important that I come with you.’
Adeline considered. ‘You’re sure you wouldn’t mind?’
Monique smiled. ‘It is about time I left St Vianne for a holiday. And Toulouse is a nice place. Why not? ’
‘Well, that’s really kind of you!’
Monique shrugged. ‘ C’est normal . Friends support each other, non ?’
‘Yes. Yes, they do,’ Adeline smiled. The question bubbled up in her before she had time to overthink it. ‘And you?’
‘Me?’
‘Have you thought any more about your… well, your baby?’
Monique gave a single nod. ‘ Oui , it is constant.’
‘And?’
‘And I have some feelings about it. But I cannot share them yet. Not until I am sure.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.’
‘Not at all. It is nice to have someone who cares enough to ask.’
Adeline nodded, her attention drawn to the window as a bird swooped past.
Outside, it was bright and light; the day still had all the trappings of early summer – warmth, birdsong, people calling to each other or walking by. There was an energy in the air – as if the world had been paused on its axis for a time but had now started to move once more. Everything was changing, but the change was positive.
Lili turned from the mirror and began trying to pull the dress down over her arms. ‘Finished,’ she said.
‘Oh, don’t rip it!’ Adeline cried. ‘Come here, sweetheart.’
Lili came over obediently and raised her arms to help Adeline slip off her dress. As soon as she was back in her former outfit of leggings and a T-shirt, she sat on the chaise longue and started bouncing slightly.
‘Lili! Don’t!’ Adeline found herself shouting.
But Monique shook her head. ‘Ah, let her,’ she said. ‘It is only furniture. It’s not important. ’
To hear Monique say this about her precious chaise longue was more than a shock. Lili’s face cracked open with a smile and she continued to jiggle, delighted that her behaviour had been endorsed.
‘Still, you don’t want it ruined,’ Adeline said.
‘Right now, I could not care less about it.’ She turned to Adeline, her eyes shining, the smile on her face full and genuine. ‘Because the thing I hoped for more than anything has happened. My baby is alive. The furniture, it really doesn’t matter.’
Adeline smiled, their eyes locking. She wondered what had led to this sudden optimism, but perhaps it was the fact that she was meeting Sophia – perhaps she’d inspired Monique to hope. Whatever it was, it could not be a bad thing.
After reading the message from her birth mother, Adeline had found herself closing her email screen and putting away her phone. It was hard to know exactly what to do, what to say. What exactly she wanted to happen next. Then, before she’d had time to form a proper reply, another message had arrived.
Adeline, I know this must be difficult for you. I imagine you might have complicated feelings towards me. Perhaps my earlier message didn’t acknowledge that. I realise we have a lot to learn about each other, that things might not be easy. It is just that I have waited so long to find you that it was impossible not to be filled with joy at your message. Then I thought about it and realised that you don’t know your story. You don’t know why I had to give you up. Perhaps you hate me for this? I understand if you are not sure whether you want to see me. But I would love the opportunity to talk, to explain. To at least put to rest some of the things that I’ve carried with me for so long. I hope we can find a way. Sophia.
She’d replied at last:
Hi Sophia, thank you for understanding. It is difficult. My lovely adoptive mum died recently, and I only just learned about my adoption. So it’s all very new. I would like to see you though. Shall I come to Toulouse?
She’d forced herself to press ‘Send’ before she changed her mind. And, although it would involve some travelling, she’d chosen to go to her mother rather than the other way around, as it gave her more control. She didn’t have to reveal her exact whereabouts to this stranger if it turned out she didn’t want to know her. She could control the length of time she stayed, when she arrived, when she left. It seemed better this way.
Afterwards, she’d tried to compose an email to Kevin. It had felt confessional. As if she’d done something to hurt them both and had to apologise for it. Every time she’d composed a sentence, a stumbling paragraph, she’d deleted it almost immediately. She simply couldn’t find the words. Maybe it was better to tell him afterwards, when she knew exactly what her situation was.
The two days that had passed between then and now had been a blur. Thankfully the shop had been busy – there were more and more tourists locally, many flocking to the shop for English language titles. Their book recommendations had become more ordinary – based on a person’s potential enjoyment rather than anything more therapeutic .
Still, whenever the shop had grown quiet and she’d looked at Monique, feeling that this could be the moment to tell her boss about the trip she planned to make, it had felt like the wrong time. She’d talked about benign things such as the weather, or books, or the fact that Claude – who’d been back to the shop several times – was looking so much better.
She still hadn’t thought what she might tell Lili about it all. Her daughter was oblivious to her recent discoveries – she hadn’t wanted to upset or confuse her. Now, thinking about Monique’s offer to babysit, she realised how important it would be to have some time alone with Sophia to talk properly. And to have the option, if things didn’t go well, to choose not to introduce her child to this complicated part of their history.
She looked again at Lili who had now slumped on the chaise longue, passing from full energy to almost unconsciousness in the way only little children can.
‘Think I’d better get this one home,’ she said, nodding at her daughter.
Monique looked and smiled. ‘Yes, perhaps.’
‘Thank you. You know, for the costume. For everything, really.’
‘It is OK.’ Monique paused. ‘That is what family is for.’