Chapter 36
36
I wake with a start, still reeling from the evening before, trying to reconcile my daughter as the bully.
Once I’m ready for work, I wake Eloise.
‘I made you breakfast.’
‘ Merci .’
She eats ravenously, and when she’s done, I sit opposite her, ready for one last chat on the matter. ‘What’s your plan going into school today?’
‘I’m going to tell the principal everything, like we discussed.’
‘Are you sure? I can call her and explain if you’d prefer.’ As much as Eloise needs to face the consequences, last night took its toll on her and I’m mindful of her mental health too. She made a mistake, and she’s owned up to it.
‘I’m sure. And I’m going to ask Léa if she wants to be friends again, but I’ll understand if she doesn’t want to.’
I suck in a breath. ‘OK, if you think that’s best. She said she was happy to give it a second chance, but the friendship part of things might take a little longer.’ Henri didn’t seem very forgiving last night, and rightly so. But Eloise does seem genuinely remorseful to me, and almost relieved that the truth has come to light.
‘I know, I can be patient.’
‘OK, I’m proud of you for trying to make it right.’
‘I’m not going to sit with those other kids, the ones Mémère saw me with at the gates. I’m not blaming them, but I acted differently around them. Trying to fit in, trying to be someone I’m not.’
‘It’s great that you recognise that. Who will you sit with at lunch then?’
She smiles. ‘Music nerds? Myself? I’m really sorry, Mum. I’m so embarrassed by what I did. And I’ve ruined your chance with the Jude Law guy.’
‘You forgot the old part.’
‘It’s the new me, trying not to be so nasty all the time.’
‘Well, don’t go changing too much, I love you as you are. This is a hard lesson you’ve had to learn, but I feel like you and I can let it go now. I trust you’ll make better choices in future.’
With a solemn nod she says, ‘I promise I will.’
‘Also, I had an idea. On the school holidays, Mémère has offered to take you for a long weekend to London to visit Harriet and Daisy. That should give you something to look forward to.’
Her face lights up. ‘Really? What about your whole thing about not rewarding bad behaviour?’
I wave her away. ‘I put those parenting books in the bargain bin at the bookshop. All I want is for you to be happy. And if seeing Harriet and Daisy every so often helps, then I’m all for it.’
‘You’re the best.’
I feign shock. ‘Wow, can you write that down so I can wave it at you when you’re reminding me I’m the worst? ’
‘I’ve been such a brat.’
I move around the table to kiss the top of her head. ‘Yes, but you’re my brat. Be strong today and don’t expect miracles. Grandad is walking you to school.’
She stands and give me a hug. ‘OK.’
When I get to the bookshop, Valérie is distracted. She barely looks up when I come in.
‘Bonjour.’
‘Coco.’
‘ Oui? ’
‘Nothing, nothing.’
She doesn’t offer coffee as usual and it’s obvious her mind is elsewhere. I stash my handbag in the cupboard and get to work. The new writers’ group is meeting this afternoon. I want to check upstairs is clean and ready for them. They’re running the group themselves and have paid to hire the space, so it’s another small stream of income and hopefully one we can build on by possibly hiring the space to other community groups.
‘Yell out if you need me, I’m just going to clean the book loft.’
Valérie wipes down the already pristine surface of the bar, almost as though she’s in a trance, going up and down and back again. ‘Just leave it, Coco. That area is better left shut off from the public.’
I frown. ‘We’ve got the writers’ group coming today though, remember?’
‘Do they have to use that space?’ She sighs. ‘I’d rather they didn’t.’ This is the first I’ve heard of this.
‘Oh, why’s that? Customers love the book loft and it’s a lot quieter up there for a writing group, don’t you think?’
She exhales a frustrated breath. ‘I really don’t care how quiet it is. What I want is for that space to be closed to customers. Now, I don’t want to talk about this again.’
I double blink, taken aback by the abruptness in Valérie’s voice. ‘Why didn’t you mention that to me before when I asked if they could hire the space? I’ve already told them all about it.’
‘ Coco. ’
‘I’m curious what prompted the about-face, that’s all? The book loft is such a great space. I’ve come up with a lot of ideas of how we can use it to make more income. I don’t want to overstep, but I do worry that the bookshop isn’t making a profit. And I’m sure you’ve got plenty of overheads that you?—’
‘ Coco, ’ she says my name so sharply it throws me for a loop. ‘Why won’t you let it go? Who cares if the bookshop isn’t making a profit? Who cares about money? I don’t care about any of it.’ Her voice rises with every inflection. She tosses the cloth to the floor. ‘None of this is working! The potions, the passages, the TikToks lauding her; none of it’s any good. It hasn’t worked.’
The TikToks lauding who? What hasn’t worked? I’m not brave enough to ask as tears form in Valérie’s eyes. I’ve never seen her behave in such a way, like she’s snapped. I’m frozen to the spot, unsure of what to do, how to react.
‘There’s a hole in my heart and nothing can fix it!’ She deflates, all at once, as if the fight leaves her as quickly as it came. When she next speaks, her voice is laced with bitterness. ‘For a while, I believed this place truly was the remedy, but it’s not.’
I scramble to piece this together, still unsure of what to say.
Valérie comes around the bar and sits heavily on a stool. ‘You’re so like her, Coco, do you know that?’
I take the stool next to her. ‘Like who?’
‘Madeline, my daughter. ’
Bibliothèque Madeline . Upstairs is her daughter’s space and that’s why she doesn’t want strangers encroaching. This is connected to wherever Valérie disappears to most days, I’m certain of it. When she returns from wherever she goes, she’s always less sunny, less like herself. ‘The first day you walked in here, my heart stopped. I thought you were her. You are so alike. When I realised you weren’t her, it still felt auspicious, somehow, like a visit from her. A reminder that she’s still all around.’ I recall that first meeting, when Valérie put a hand to her heart as she stared at me, and pain flashed across her face. Now I understand why.
‘What happened to Madeline?’
Valérie takes a moment before she says, ‘She died of cancer at twenty-seven. Young, far too young. We’d only just moved to Paris when she was diagnosed.’
‘I’m so sorry, Valérie.’
She exhales a wobbly breath. ‘So am I. She had so much to live for. So much to still do. Her dream was to get published.’
Ooh! ‘Madeline’s the poet? I knew those poems were connected to the view upstairs.’
Valérie smiles. ‘She’s the famous poet, posthumously at any rate. A literary genius. But this wasn’t quite a bookshop then. We hadn’t got that far yet. And then the bad news came, and all she wanted to do was finish her book, and that’s what she did. While she penned her poems upstairs, I got the bookshop set up, but I didn’t open it. I didn’t want to waste any precious time she had left. It was just something to do while she napped. She died before she could submit her book to publishers in the hopes of getting a deal.’
My heart. What cruel fate that she never got to experience getting a book deal and then the huge success it’s gone on to have. ‘You got the book published for her?’
Valérie nods. ‘And it took off. Became a hit with Gen Z on TikTok, of all things. No one could have predicted that, least of all me. I didn’t even know what TikTok was, but I had to learn fast. I wanted to soak up every word they wrote about my beautiful daughter, wanted their praise to wash over me, hoping it would almost bring her back to life. But it didn’t.’
‘And why do the book club keep it a secret? I’m guessing from the sketchy way they all acted that they know your daughter wrote it.’
Valérie considers it. ‘They all figured it out early on but understand that I won’t discuss it. I don’t tell anyone it’s my daughter’s book of poems, probably for self-preservation. Its success is a testament to her, but the poems are deeply personal so it’s probably best it’s not connected to me.’ The abusive husband? In the poem they ran when they felt it was safe to go.
‘In case he finds you?’ I say gently. ‘Just like the poem about fleeing violence in the family home? I’m guessing the poems were all autobiographical?’
‘ Oui. He still might find me. But there’s nothing he could do to hurt me now. The very worst thing has already happened.’
It’s so sad to contemplate that they were finally free of that dark past and then cancer stole Madeline away.
‘After Madeline died, I opened the bookshop. I needed something tangible to keep me here. Soon it became a refuge for others just like me. I recognised the magic right away and figured it would be up to me to cure the broken hearted among us, and surely my own heart would heal. I made the bookshop a welcoming place where they could sink their sorrows with a potion and passage. Find comfort in a good book, which is one way to outrun grief for a while. But it’s all a sham. I see that now.’
‘You’ve helped so many people, Valérie. It’s not a sham. You didn’t do it for any other reason than wanting to help heal those who hurt just as much as you. And it hasn’t been in vain.’
A tear runs down her cheek. ‘I’m not sure about that, Coco. I figured the broken parts of me would one day heal over even though the scars would remain, but if anything, it actually gets worse. The success of Madeline’s book makes me want to howl. Why couldn’t it have been me who died?’
I give her a hug. As a mother I’d feel exactly the same way. There’s no adequate response because it’s not fair. No parent should lose their child. ‘You know, someone once told me: “Grief is love that has nowhere to go”. And that rings true. You directed all your love towards your daughter and then when she passed, instead of letting that consume you, you poured that love for Madeline into The Paris Bookshop for the Broken Hearted. That’s why this place is so special that even a sceptic like me starts to believe, and that is really saying a lot.’
She gives me a rueful smile. ‘You really were my toughest challenge, Coco.’
I laugh. ‘I’m a facts person, or at least I was. This place has changed me for the better. I’ve learned to let go, not put such pressure on myself, and I can’t help but think you and Madeline had a hand in it. You with your support and Madeline with her poetry.’ Now I choke up a bit, which I really hate doing in public. ‘Without you, Valérie, so many of us would have given up, on dreams, on love, on what comes next. You’re the reason the magic works here. Bad days like today will come, but that’s the cost of love, right?’
She takes a tissue from a box behind the bar. ‘It’s the third anniversary of Madeline’s passing and it felt like the first day all over again.’
‘Oh, Valérie, no wonder all this has come to the fore. Anniversaries such as these are so hard. Give yourself some grace, just as you freely give all your customers suffering in the same way.’
‘You’re right, I should. I don’t know why I sit with sadness and let it consume me.’
‘It’s OK to sit with the sadness from time to time. Is there a place you go to do that?’
‘ Oui. Every day I go to the same crowded place and close my eyes and only see her. I’ll take you there now. It’s a happy place so I’m hoping that happiness eventually rubs off on me.’
We lock up the bookshop and put the “Back Soon” sign on the door. We walk in the direction of the River Seine and come to a stop at the square in front of the Notre Dame cathedral. Even though it’s early morning, it’s already bustling with people. ‘Here it is.’ She points to the ground where there’s a sunken plaque with a brass insert shaped like a star that says ‘Point Zero’. It’s littered with coins.
‘I was not expecting that.’ I presumed we’d go inside a beautiful church and find a special pew or sit on a bench in a flower-filled garden.
‘It’s a wishing spot for some, and a wishing well for others. Paris is famous for them.’
‘Really?’ In light of Valérie’s upset, I try my best to hide my doubt about such a thing. ‘How are they different?’
‘Oh, Coco! If you want to find true love, you spin on the brass star three times and make a wish. You use the wishing well if you want to wish for anything else. You close your eyes and throw some coins on there while you make your wish.’
‘Sorry, sorry, it’s just… a wishing well? As far as I know, Point Zero is the exact centre of Paris that all distances are measured from.’ But I hastily add, ‘I’m willing to suspend my disbelief for you.’
Valérie laughs. ‘You know, Madeline didn’t believe it at first either. In fact, when I’d throw my coins on there and make a wish, she’d hide behind her hands and tell me she was mortified. But it became our thing. After she was diagnosed, I snuck here every single day to wish on it, hoping against hope it would save her.’
Here come the tears again. I’m picturing Valérie trying everything in her toolbox to save her daughter, including using a wishing spot. I’d have done the same even though I’m not a real believer. You never know.
‘A week or so before the end, she asked to come here. She was in a wheelchair then. She closed her eyes for the longest time before she threw the coins down.’
‘What did she wish for?’
Valérie shakes her head. ‘You can’t share your wishes or they won’t come true.’
‘I’m sure her last wish was that you’d find peace.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because I’m a daughter too.’
Valérie’s musters up a smile. ‘ Merci , Coco. So…?’
‘So?’
She motions with her head to the plaque.
‘You’re not serious?’
‘I am so.’
I can’t exactly say no since this is her special spot. ‘Do you have any coins?’
She frowns. ‘Coins? Get on there and spin three times and wish for true love.’
‘Everyone will see.’
‘Then do it fast.’
There’s no point arguing with her, it’s only going to delay my mortification. Spinning on a circle to wish for love, indeed! Still, I do as ordered and I picture Henri’s smiling face, just for kicks. Not because I believe there’s anything in it.
‘Now let’s see if that changes anything between you and Henri.’
‘I don’t think so somehow.’ I don’t bother telling her about Eloise and Léa. It’s not the right time to be mentioning daughters, especially badly behaved ones like mine.
Valérie closes her eyes and throws some coins down. Soon we’re surrounded by tourists who ask what the significance of the circle is and what we’re doing. Valérie regales them with all the folklore about Point Zero, including that if you stand on it with your significant other and kiss, it means your relationship will last forever. Tourists also use it to say au revoir to Paris, and it’s believed if you stand on the plaque at the end of your trip and say a word of thanks, it means you’ll return to Paris again one day. Their faces light up and there’s much jostling for space on Point Zero. We leave them to it.
‘I see why you go there, Valérie. It is a happy place, a place to make a wish and most of all have hope.’
‘Exactly. Have hope. I love sharing Point Zero with people, but afterwards that sadness catches me once more, but that’s OK. It’s my love for my daughter, and it’s bound to hurt.’
We slowly walk back to the bookshop. I loop my arm around her elbow as Valérie tells me more about Madeline, as if her earlier heartache has lightened a little. That’s the thing with grief – you can’t outrun it. The pain of a broken heart demands to be felt. And while the eccentric bookseller has been busy helping others heal, she’s put her own hurt on the backburner, or else she’s tried to outpace it, but it’s not something you can outrun.
Has anyone sprinkled the potion and passage magic dust over Valérie? Maybe what she’s missing is a bit of her own medicine?
Back at the bookshop, I get on the book club group chat and call an impromptu meeting, giving them scant details except it’s the third anniversary of Madeline’s passing and I’ve got an idea. They quiz me on how I found out about Madeline and I tell them what unfolded. I love how they’ve all kept Valérie’s past secret and tried to protect her. Everyone agrees to meet at the bookshop at the close of business.
I rope off the stairs that lead to Library Madeline. Valérie apologised for her outburst and told me to ignore her protests about the space, that it should be used and enjoyed. But I’m not too sure. Now that I know the full story, it feels sacrosanct, special. It’s where Madeline sat and wrote her book as illness ravaged her body. It’s where she slept and dreamed. The books are her own private collection.
As always, the day races away as I serve customers, organise an area downstairs for the writers’ group and unpack boxes of stock. Valérie is behind the bar regaling customers with a potion and passage. I strain to hear the passage she’s sharing with an elderly man with a small yappy dog: ‘Sadness flies away on the wings of time – Jean de la Fontaine.’
It occurs to me that every wish made over a potion, every passage she’s uttered, has been done in an effort to heal her grief too. A golden thread to mend her broken heart.
The book club members meet by Henri’s chair, although Henri himself doesn’t appear. Valérie glances over to us with a frown, probably wondering about all these impromptu meetings.
‘Agnes!’ I’m delighted to see her up on her feet again, complexion rosy.
‘Don’t make a big deal of it, Coco. I’m about ready to self-combust with hunger. The cardiologist has me on the most ridiculous diet. I’m sure he’s not French. No Frenchman would suggest avoiding duck fat roasted potatoes.’
‘I see your point, but you are looking great.’
‘I know, I know.’
I shake my head. Ziggy and Lucy arrive. They’re excited to see Agnes too. Nikolina is next, and sauntering behind her is Henri. I take a deep breath and will myself to remain professional. It’s not like I’m going to argue with the man, since we were in the wrong and all, but it’s just the ever-present awkwardness that goes with seeing him. We kissed! It’s an intimacy and now I have to pretend all is fine and dandy. Isidore saves the day by tripping over the leg of a chair, taking the attention away from me.
Once everyone finishes catching up, I motion for them to come closer while I tell them my plan.
‘Ooh.’ Lucy’s eyes go wide. ‘That is so beautiful.’
‘Do you think it will work?’ Ziggy asks. ‘We might not have the power she does.’
‘We’ve got love in our hearts,’ Agnes says. ‘I think that’s the most important element.’
Henri nods. ‘Let’s give it a shot. What’s the worst that can happen?’ We share a tentative smile.
Isidore agrees and says, ‘Why didn’t we think of this sooner?’
We chat about how to go about it and then make our way to the bar. I duck behind Valérie and I’m soon opening and closing cupboards finding what I need while the book club sit at the bar, big awkward smiles on their faces. Their acting skills are woeful.
‘Is there any reason you’re all sitting there like lame ducks staring at me?’ Valérie asks.
‘ Non ,’ comes the reply. They’re supposed to be distracting her so I can make the potion even though I’m not quite sure how she gets them to bubble like she does.
‘What are you doing, Coco?’
‘Can you please leave us for a moment, Valérie?’ My tone brooks no argument.
‘Come and sit with me for a minute,’ Agnes says. ‘I have a lot to tell you later so I hope you’ve got a nice chilled bottle of chardonnay with my name on it.’
‘No wine. Doctor’s orders,’ Ziggy warns. It’s sweet how protective Ziggy has become over Agnes.
‘He can’t take away everything.’
Valérie pats her hand. ‘A small glass is medicinal.’
Ziggy shakes her head. While they’re bickering about what Agnes can and can’t have, I find what I need and manage to assemble it all.
I turn to the group and nod.
‘Can we offer you a potion and a passage?’ Lucy says to Valérie.
‘Me?’
‘You,’ Lucy confirms. ‘Coco came up with the idea that perhaps our fearless mender of hearts was in need of a little boost herself. While we might not have your magic fingers, what we do have is a whole lot of love for you and what you’ve achieved here. We’re all better for having known you, Valérie.’
‘Because of you, I’m going to Australia next week,’ Ziggy says, and we all gasp. ‘For a holiday! Don’t worry, it’s just for a few weeks. The thing is, while I might come across as very confident what with all my famous author friends and all, in reality that’s a bit of a front. They’re not really my friends, those authors. And now I’ve found a guy I like and who knows what the future holds? It’s much better than an online love, that’s for sure. So merci , Valérie.’
‘Actually, you have Coco to thank for that.’ Valérie explains the story about when the Australian guy popped into the bookshop and asked me for a book “Tolstoy but make it fun”.
‘You knew?’ Ziggy asks.
‘I didn’t know he meant you at the time.’
Ziggy slaps a hand over her mouth. ‘She has the magic, just like Valérie!’
‘No, I don’t!’
We go down the line, expressing our thanks to Valérie for making us believe, for giving us hope. For picking up the pieces and helping put us back together.
When we’ve all said our piece, I say, ‘Your bespoke cocktail, and your very own passage.’
She takes a sip of the bubbling drink. ‘It tastes like sunshine! Equis .’ And then she unwraps the scroll.
‘Read it out loud,’ Agnes says.
‘A wound is a place where light enters your soul. Rumi.’ When Valérie looks up, her eyes are glassy with tears. She lifts up her potion full of sunshiny flavours and bright light. ‘Here’s to letting the light back in.’
Valérie gives me a soft smile that conveys more than words ever could.