Page 24 of The Little Provence Book Shop
‘So my dad’s from London, and my mum’s from…’
‘Provence,’ Kevin had said. ‘I’m sure they said Provence, in France.’
Over the days that followed she’d withdrawn from her life. Finished her time at school, signed off her social media accounts on her laptop, ignored Kevin’s calls to the landline. Avoided him as much as possible. In the evenings, she’d googled Provence, thought about taking a holiday there. Then she’d started to wonder whether she could take a year out – get away from it all.
She still couldn’t quite understand how she’d managed to stumble across the advert. She’d clicked on a link about English teaching abroad, then followed a train of links and found herself on the site of a local French newspaper. It was when she’d pressed the ‘back’ button that the advert had sort of popped up and filled her screen.
In French, it had said:
BILINGUAL BOOKSELLER WANTED. Must be passionate about books.
And a phone number. And things had snowballed. She was in St Vianne before she’d really had time to think it through.
Adeline breathed deeply, feeling relieved that she’d finally made peace with her brother.
She brought up the orders page for their supplier and was about to start entering titles they wanted to stock to try to distract herself with something ordinary when there was a loud thud upstairs in the flat. She stood, ears pricked, unsurewhether to call out. But then she heard the rumble of voices; angry voices, shouting.
Only the odd word was audible. The shrill sound of Monique’s voice – raised in a way she’d never heard it, telling someone it was none of his business.
Then another voice – a man’s – yelling that she was crazy, that she was going to hurt people. There was the grumbling of more angry conversation, voices slightly lowered – she couldn’t pick out the words. Then another crash.
She rushed to the bottom of the stairs, ready to race up and help Monique if needed, but before she could, the door at the top opened and Michel stood there, his expression thunderous.
He looked at her, his eyes unreadable, and then began to walk quickly down the stairs. Instinctively, she stood to one side to let him pass, and he stormed towards the exit almost as if she weren’t there.
Reaching it, he turned, and his eyes seemed to alight on her for a moment, and he looked as if he wanted to say something. Instead, nodding curtly, he pulled open the door, jarring the bell, and disappeared into the street.
Her heart thumping, she turned back towards the stairs and made her way up to the flat. ‘Monique?’ she said softly, knocking on the door.
It wasn’t locked and pushing it open, she could detect a little movement in the small kitchen, so she carefully made her way there. Inside, Monique was picking up the shattered pieces of a plate that had obviously been thrown.
‘Oh my God,’ Adeline cried, rushing to help. ‘What happened?’
Monique turned her slightly tear-stained face towards her, and instead of sorrow in her eyes, Adeline saw they were shining with anger and spirit. ‘My nephew, he is a pig.’
‘He threw this?’
‘Non,’ Monique admitted. ‘This was me. Because I got so angry. I am hot-tempered. But I regret this,’ she sighed, holding a piece of shattered porcelain. ‘It was a lovely platter.’
‘You argued?’ Adeline prompted.
‘Oui. Oh, do not worry,’ Monique sighed and straightened up. ‘It is not so bad. We had a disagreement. And it got a bit crazy, but we will be OK.’
Adeline longed to ask what it had been about, but couldn’t help but feel it was none of her business.
‘Can I get you anything?’
Monique looked at her, her face softened as if the anger was falling away. ‘Oui, thank you. A coffee.’
‘Why don’t I go and get us some pastries too?’ Adeline suggested. ‘A bit of sugar always helps.’
Monique smiled. ‘Oui, a good idea. When life is bitter, you need to add some sweetness.’ She put her hand on Adeline’s shoulder. ‘Thank you.’
They’d touched before. Exchanged briefbisousand shaken hands when she’d arrived. But it was the first time Monique had put her hand on Adeline for any length of time. It was strange, how warm her hand felt on Adeline’s shoulder and how, as she looked at the older woman standing in front of her, she could feel almost an electrical charge.
They stood like this for a moment before Adeline nodded and moved away. ‘Pastries,’ she said. ‘Coffee.’
And the moment was broken.
