Chapter 32
The bitter winds of winter had given way to a beautifully mild breeze of spring.
Shoots of green from the bravest of the bulbs had poked their head through the earth in the Tuileries and tested the air, decided that they would persevere and as the next few weeks passed, colour filled and spilled over from the borders.
I’d adopted the habit of walking there every day, often early but sometimes, as now, again later in the afternoon as the light changed.
The mornings could still be chilly but this afternoon, the vintage woollen coat Reine had spotted at one of the flea markets we’d taken to strolling through with Gabby was left open.
As I sat on one of the metal chairs that resided in the gardens, everything felt perfectly at peace.
I people-watched for a while, attaching imaginary lives to some, admiring the style of others, and smiling at the laughter of lovers as they walked, their footsteps crunching on the gravel, hands clasped or tucked through an arm.
I lowered my gaze and opened the book I had just treated myself to at Smith and Sons, the English bookshop on Rue des Rosiers, not too far from where I was now sitting.
Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her.
The words sent a wash of comforting familiarity through me.
It was so long since I had read them, despite them being such favourites, but for some reason, reading, at least for pleasure, had taken a back seat in life once I’d become a mother.
At first, I had thought, perhaps naively, that I’d read when Sasha napped but there always seemed to be something else to catch up on.
Occasionally, I’d allow that thing to be sleep.
And then, gradually, I’d got out of the habit of reading altogether.
Just as I had got out of the habit of walking for pleasure.
It had been Tomas who’d suggested the trip to Smiths when we’d met for coffee one morning.
‘My French is still pretty good,’ I’d replied, half-teasing, but recognising a tiny spark of defensiveness in my reply.
‘I know.’ He gave a Gallic shrug as if my reply had little to do with his suggestion.
‘I can read books in French.’
His eyes narrowed a little. ‘I am aware of that too. Did I suggest otherwise?’
‘Only by saying I should shop at an English bookshop.’
He put down his espresso cup, the treacly liquid he preferred still looking as unappealing as it had thirty years ago.
‘I didn’t say you should only read in English. I asked if you wanted to go. The café there is quite cute. I think Sasha would like it too. It is, what do they call it? “Highly Instagrammable”.’
‘Oh. I see. Right. Thank you.’
He’d been correct, of course, and Sasha had filmed there as part of a vlog which had been super popular with her viewers.
After disappearing into the world of Hartfield for another half an hour, I checked my watch, packed up my book and wandered through the gardens to meet Tomas for coffee as arranged.
I showed him the book once I’d joined him on the comfy sofa he’d bagged.
‘I’m glad you and Sasha enjoyed the café. I watched her vlog. I hope that you don’t think me suggesting the place was any sort of criticism of your language skills. You know I don’t – and never did – think they were anything less than excellent.’
The unspoken allusion to the fact that his mother had felt otherwise was acknowledged. And accepted.
‘I should have stood up for you that day when my mother dismissed them. And you.’
‘Tomas…’
After spending time with Christophe, laughing and learning, I was reluctant to spoil the wonderful, joyful day by returning to the conversation Tomas had begun earlier in the day at the vineyard, and he’d been kind enough to allow that.
But today, it seemed, he was determined to resurrect the subject.
‘Please, Kitty. We need to talk about this.’
‘Why, Tomas? It was all a very long time ago and going over old ground now won’t change anything.’
‘But that day did change everything! Don’t you see?’
‘I know it did.’ I did my best to keep my emotions more level than Tomas was managing. ‘But who’s to say something else wouldn’t have come along that—’
‘I say!’ Tomas said, the effort of keeping his voice low in deference to our fellow café goers showed in the tense tone.
‘Kitty, I never got to apologise to you. And you deserved that, at the very least. You deserved so much more. I wanted to give you so much more and I was a coward. A weak, pathetic coward who bent to the whims of my mother instead of defending the woman I loved.’
‘Tomas.’
‘I know what you’re going to say. That it was all a long time ago, another lifetime.’
He was right.
‘But I’ve spent this lifetime regretting that day.’
‘Then I’m truly sorry for that.’
He studied my face. ‘You haven’t?’
I let out a short laugh. ‘I had a baby, Tomas. It felt like I didn’t have time to shower for about six months, let alone have any thoughts of regret for what might have been before.’
‘No. Of course.’ He shook his head. ‘And please don’t think I am wishing that you regretted becoming a mother to Sasha. Anyone can see the love between you.’
‘No. I don’t regret that. I could never regret her.
’ I looked down at my hands, laced tightly now in my lap.
‘But no, what I said before… that’s not true.
Obviously, a new baby took up all of my time and energy but I still thought about you.
Missed you. Tomas, how could I not? We made plans, talked about our future and then suddenly, everything changed.
My whole life, the life I thought I’d have, changed in an instant.
It was hard not to wonder what I’d done wrong… ’
‘You didn’t do anything wrong, Kitty. Please don’t ever think that.’ His hand covered mine as I looked up, met his eyes, tears in both of ours.
He glanced to the side, towards the window, but his focus looked somewhere far past that. ‘You’re right. It was stupid of me to bring this up.’
I laid my hand over his. ‘I never said that it, or you, were stupid, Tomas. And I never would.’
‘Even though I was?’ His gaze snapped back to mine and hooked onto it. ‘I let you go, Kitty. You were everything I wanted and I let you go.’
I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing but my heart squeezed in my chest. Tomas had been everything I wanted too and I’d seen us together forever until that day in the restaurant. But it wasn’t that simple. How could I regret losing him when I had gained my daughter instead?
He moved his hand, taking mine within it, and lifted it to his lips. ‘I will say this now and then never mention it again.’
My eyes lifted from our hands to meet his gaze.
‘I am sorry, Kitty. Sorry that I let someone treat you like that. Sorry that I tainted your memory of Paris for so long, and sorry most of all that, because of my weakness, you and my sister lost so many years of friendship. I was a fool. A weak fool. Luck shone on me when my sister forgave me for taking you from her. I don’t expect the same from you.
I’m not sure I deserve it and it’s as it should be.
But please know, if I could go back, if I could do it all again, it would be very different.
I know now that, as much as I loved you, I didn’t deserve you. ’
‘Tomas…’
‘But,’ he swallowed, continuing, ‘if and when you’re ever ready to give me another chance, I will spend the rest of my days doing my utmost to deserve you this time.’
A tear dislodged and traced its way down my cheek. His other hand lifted, his thumb tenderly sweeping the tear away.
‘Mum?’ Sash’s voice broke the moment.