Chapter 4
Sylvain arrived back at six. He went into the kitchen and put down his keys, wallet, and a thick file of work he had to finish for the following Monday on the table, then went straight out into the backyard, where he found Tiphaine crouched down among her plants, filling in the soil around the roots of a young shrub.
The minute she saw him, she stood up and went over to him.
“Something’s happened,” she said in a low voice.
“Why are you whispering?”
By way of answer, Tiphaine nodded at the hedge that separated their backyard from that of the neighboring house. Sylvain raised his eyebrows in surprise and curiosity.
“And?” he asked, lowering his voice in turn.
“A mother and daughter. There doesn’t seem to be a man, so she’s either divorced or widowed. About my age. She looks nice.”
“And the daughter?”
“Teenager. Standard model. Cute.”
“Did you talk to them?”
“No.”
They looked at each other in silence. Since Madame Coustenoble’s death, they had never spoken about who might move into the house next door, but they both knew perfectly well the repercussions it would have on their lives.
Sylvain nodded mutely several times, without taking his eyes off Tiphaine.
He was about to say something, but then he seemed to change his mind.
“Where’s Milo?” he asked finally.
“Upstairs in his room. He’s meant to be studying, but it might not be a bad idea for you to check on him.”
“I’ll go up and take a look.”
As he turned to the house, he glanced back at the hedge. Alone again, Tiphaine finished planting the shrub, adding some homemade compost to the soil and methodically tamping down the mixture around its base.
Tiphaine was a professional horticulturist, but plants were more than merely her job.
She was fanatical about gardening and spent most of her time with her hands in soil, sowing, planting, watering, weeding, propagating cuttings, pruning, and harvesting.
Plants, flowers, trees, and shrubs held no secrets for her; she knew all there was to know about every variety, not just when they blossomed and what their yields were, but their properties, health benefits, and dangers.
Alongside her undoubted physical proficiency, she possessed fine observational skills, excellent scientific knowledge, and an artistic sensibility.
Being in contact with the earth was vital for her, therapeutic even.
Lost in what she was doing, at first she didn’t hear the rustling of leaves a few yards away, just over the hedge in the neighboring garden.
A few seconds later, she caught a glimpse of a vague movement beyond the foliage.
Intrigued, she turned her head and, otherwise motionless, stared at the place that had just stirred.
A moment later she spotted a small figure, then a face and eyes watching her in silence.
Slowly, she straightened up and walked to the hedge, on the other side of which was a small boy of seven or eight.
He stood stock-still, as if he was debating whether or not to run away.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Maxime.”
The shock was instant. Agonizing. Brutal.
Tiphaine felt the ground give way. Her legs, suddenly deprived of all vital substance, felt like they were liquifying.
In a fraction of a second her pulse went from a normal rhythm to an uninterrupted hammering, and everything around her began to spin.
She reached out an arm to try to grab hold of something, but her hands closed around nothing.
She felt herself falling backward and tried to regain her balance by tipping the weight of her body forward.
Through her raging inner confusion, she saw the child’s curious stare, and then a woman’s voice slammed into the silence of her panic.
“Nassim?”
In the next-door garden she saw her new neighbor making her way from the deck toward the boy.
“Nassim, what are you doing?”
She caught sight of Tiphaine behind the hedge. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
“Hello,” Tiphaine managed to utter through ragged breaths.
The woman came closer, then stood on tiptoe, as if trying to get past the obstacle of the hedge that separated them.
“I’m Nora, your new neighbor. And this is Nassim, my son. Did you say hello to the lady, Nassim?”
“Hello.”
Tiphaine swallowed.
“Hello, Nassim,” she stammered, slowly regaining her composure.
There was a brief, polite silence, which Nora soon filled. “We just moved in today. I hope the movers didn’t disturb you too much.”
“Absolutely not,” Tiphaine assured her. Then she added, “My name’s Tiphaine.”
“I’m so pleased to meet you.”
There was another, longer silence, now filled with a palpable awkwardness.
“How old is your little boy?” Tiphaine asked in a tone of polite curiosity.
“He’s eight,” Nora answered with that peculiar parental smugness that suggests the age of their offspring is a source of particular pride. “Do you have children?”
Tiphaine nodded. “I have a fifteen-year-old son. Milo.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Nora. “My daughter’s thirteen.”
“What’s her name?” asked Tiphaine, thinking that the girl had looked older than that.
“Inès.”
“What a pretty name.”
“Thank you.”
Between polite compliments and neighborly courtesy, the two women rapidly exhausted all possible topics of conversation and, once more, silence fell between them.
“Well,” said Nora with a little sigh, “I’m so happy to meet you. I hope you have a lovely evening.”
“And you, too.”
Nora turned and went back into the house with her son.
Tiphaine watched them walk away, her heart still thumping from the shock she’d felt when she thought she heard the child say his name was Maxime.
Even if Nassim wasn’t the same age as Maxime had been when he died, his presence made her feel uneasy.
Just as Nora and Nassim reached the deck, Tiphaine called out, “Excuse me!”
Nora turned.
“Yes?”
“Which one is Nassim’s bedroom?”
“I’m sorry?”
Tiphaine bit her lip. It was a strange question and she immediately regretted asking.
“I’m sorry to ask but the thing is our houses are adjoining and as we share a wall—”
“Oh!” Nora nodded in the direction of the window directly above the deck.
“That one.”
Tiphaine shut her eyes. It was the thing she’d been dreading since the moment she’d discovered Nassim’s existence: he was moving into Maxime’s old bedroom. Another little boy was going to play, sleep, laugh, cry, live in that room.
An icy grip tightened inside her chest, and for a few seconds, she found it hard to breathe.
When she opened her eyes again, Nora had retraced her steps to the hedge and was looking at her curiously.
She’d obviously mistaken the significance of the question as referring to the shared wall that separated the two houses.
“Is there a problem with the soundproofing?” she asked, not trying to hide her discomfiture.
“No!” exclaimed Tiphaine, surprised by Nora’s interpretation. “That’s not what I meant at all.”
What an idiot! She hadn’t been able to stop herself from asking one too many questions.
Now she was going to have to extricate herself somehow from this awkward situation.
If she nodded along with Nora and agreed that she was already thinking ahead to her son potentially disturbing them with his noise, the question bordered on rudeness.
On the other hand, she couldn’t see herself replying lightheartedly, “I just asked because eight years ago my husband and I were living in your house, and that room was our little boy’s.
He died falling from that very window. That’s right, your son’s bedroom. Welcome to your new home!”
“Don’t worry,” Nora said. “Nassim is very well behaved, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t disturb you.”
“I’m so sorry, you misunderstood. I . . .”
“I” what? What reason could she possibly give for her question that wouldn’t be either rude or awkward? She fumbled for the right words, but after a few seconds she sighed as though she were throwing in the towel.
“I’m sorry. My question was silly and completely uncalled for. Forget I said anything,” she said, with her warmest smile.
“It’s fine, I absolutely understand your concern.”
“You don’t understand at all! I love children. It never even crossed my mind that Nassim might disturb us.”
“Don’t worry, I get it.”
“It’s my fault.”
“No, no, I understand completely.”
Simultaneously, the two women cut short their litany of excuses and understanding. They both burst out laughing, one warmly, the other dolefully.
That’s how Tiphaine and Nora first met, over a misunderstanding, on either side of a hedge.