Chapter 32
32
By the next afternoon, I’ve managed to get hold of the usual suspects from the book club and I apprise them of Agnes’s situation. I don’t mention her husband or any of that, only that she’s had a minor heart attack, and that, if they’re up for it, we’re planning a group visit.
I’m just hoping all of us turning up at once doesn’t trigger a second heart attack. I send the group another blanket message.
Coco
It’s best if we keep stress at a minimum for Agnes so let’s refrain from any literary debate. Coco x
I’m tallying up the takings earlier than usual, getting ready to leave Valérie in charge so I can head to the mediation at school, when my phone chirps with a text.
Ziggy
Can I please take her one spicy book as a joke? It will make her smile, I’m sure of it. Zigs ; )
I shake my head.
Coco
Only if you want to be banned from book club.
I find Valérie in an intense discussion with a thin woman who looks slightly familiar. She’s wearing a band tee and denim shorts and I struggle to place her. Her hair is neatly tied in a long plait.
‘Sorry to disturb you, Valérie, but I’m off to the school meeting now.’
‘Is it that time already? Quickly before you go, meet a new friend of mine, Rachelle.’
When Rachelle spins to face me, I realise it’s the young girl who Eloise watched stealing a book. The one who’d looked down on her luck. ‘Bonjour , Rachelle.’
‘Rachelle is going to help in the bookshop at the weekend and might even cover a shift or two in the bar Thursday and Friday evenings.’
I give her a warm smile. I bet Valérie approached Rachelle and not the other way around, by giving her a solution that helped her retain her dignity. ‘You’re going to love it here,’ I say, meaning it.
Rachelle wrings her hands as if she’s nervous. ‘ Merci , I’m grateful for the opportunity.’
The Bookshop for the Broken Hearted is magical. The lost and sad, and lonely and broken who find their way here are eventually cured, but not by a potion, not by a passage, but by Valérie herself. A woman who doles out an abundance of love and support, friendship and advice, food and drinks, books, to whoever needs it.
She gives a literal helping hand up.
What made her this way? Or who , might be the question. There’s no time to ponder it as I give them both a wave and head out in the direction of Eloise’s school.
I arrive at the office earlier than the scheduled time, which gives me a shot of confidence. The secretary shows me through, and I greet the principal cooly. I’m still not convinced that she has Eloise’s best interests at heart.
‘I’m sure they’ll be along soon.’
I nod, holding my purse on my lap like a safety blanket.
The principal calls to her secretary, ‘Can you check that Eloise and Léa are on their way please?’
A girl appears at the door, a timid expression on her face. This must be Léa. Her acting skills are on point. She’s playing the part of fragile teen very well.
‘Come in, Léa, and take a seat. This is Coco, Eloise’s maman .’
‘Bonjour.’ She speaks so softly I can barely hear her. I give her a small nod. It’s easy to hold on to my iciness when I remember my daughter’s hair being cruelly chopped off and all the teasing and taunts.
My daughter appears at the door. ‘Eloise,’ the principal says, ‘join your maman there and say hello to Léa.’ Eloise’s face is like thunder, her whole demeanour hard, sharp, a stark contrast to Léa, who is continuing with her cowed act.
‘I’m sure it won’t be long now…’ the principal says, checking her watch again. ‘And then we can begin.’
‘I hope not,’ I say. ‘You said four and I managed to get here by four.’ Being kept waiting like this is probably a power play by the happy parents. It ratchets up my nerves and my anger. I’m coiled, ready to fight for my daughter and for fairness to prevail.
Another ten minutes goes by and I’m about ready to explode. ‘Can you call them? This is the height of rudeness. We do have other places to be, you know.’ The tiger mum part of my personality is not pretty, I’m aware of it, but it’s a part of me that will always speak up and be in Eloise’s corner, more than I do for myself at any rate.
The principal picks up the phone then drops it again. ‘Ah, here he is. Monsieur Beaufort.’ Merde . I suppose we have to continue waiting for Madame Beaufort.
When I turn to eviscerate Monsieur Beaufort with a glare, confusion reigns. My first thought is Agnes – did she have another heart attack? Then my next worry is Valérie. It takes me a full minute for my brain to catch up and when I do, all colour drains from my face. ‘Do not tell me Léa is your daughter?’ My voice is high, like a shriek. Of all the ways my life could be flipped upside down, I wouldn’t have guessed this would happen.
His eyes flash with hurt, then… anger? ‘ Oui , and that would mean your daughter is the one who hit Léa. How could you not tell me? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?’
‘What do you mean? I didn’t know!’
‘Take a seat,’ the principal says with a sigh. ‘Let’s discuss this like adults, shall we?’
There’s a pain in my chest, as if my heart is breaking all over again. ‘I’d like it known that I do not for one minute believe that Eloise hit Léa. It’s rather coincidental, is it not, that it wasn’t caught on camera?’
Léa gasps. The audacity of the child. Acting in such a way to fool everyone around her. Maybe she’s conniving like her mother; who would know?
‘That’s exactly why she did it there,’ Léa rails. ‘So she wouldn’t get caught. Luckily my friends were there and saw it happen.’
‘How can you imply Léa’s lying?’ Henri asks, gruff. ‘They took pictures of her reddening cheek just after it happened. You could still see the imprint of your daughter’s hand on her face, that’s how hard she hit her.’
‘Eloise?’ I say, beseeching her with my eyes to speak the truth.
‘I hate it here.’
I bite down on a scream. This is not the time for teenagerly mutterings.
‘Did you slap her, Eloise? That’s the crux of it. Now, I know you’d never do something like that, but you have to speak up for yourself.’
Henri grunts. ‘She’s never going to admit to it when you put it like that, is she? This is a waste of time. We’re leaving. Come on, Léa.’
Léa wipes away a crocodile tear and hastens after Henri.
I cross my arms. ‘Now what?’
The principal rocks back in her chair. ‘I have no idea.’