Page 3 of The Little Provence Book Shop
‘Oh, and this is Lili, my daughter. Saybonjour, Lili!’ Adeline added.
Lili, who had a rudimentary grasp of French (Adeline had readT’ChoupiandLilibooks to her on alternate nights toPeter RabbitandPeppa Pig, and her daughter had followed the stories fascinated, her young malleable brain taking in the fricative ‘r’s and the absent ‘h’s and picking up the language with ease) hid behind her mother’s legs and remained silent. When Adeline told people that Lili was bilingual, they’d make remarks like ‘amazing’ and ‘wow’ – and marvel that Adeline, as a singlemum, had the time to tutor her. And they were right – it was difficult to fit it all in, to find energy to do all the things she did for Lili. But that was the point, wasn’t it? When people are expecting you to fail, you have to work twice as hard to prove that you can rise to the challenge.
When her ex-love rat boyfriend, Colin, had baulked at the idea of being a father and even suggested an abortion six years ago when Adeline had fallen pregnant, she’d known she’d be doing this alone. She’d been warned by so many people how hard it was going to be. But easier to parent single than parent with someone who doesn’t care, she’d thought, as she’d released Colin from all his obligations – telling him that she didn’t need a penny from him and that as far as she was concerned, he was better off out of the picture – an option he’d taken with great relief.
‘She’s shy,’ Adeline said, but Patrick had already reached the front of the queue and was ordering hispain. Eva nodded once in response and gave a tight smile. ‘Well, nice to meet you!’ Adeline stroked Lili’s hair reassuringly. It was difficult in this unfamiliar place; she shouldn’t expect her daughter to suddenly start chatting to strangers in their native tongue.
In the end, she selected apain aux raisinsand achocolatine,hoping they’d be more palatable for Lili than croissants. The man gave her the briefest ofmercisas she handed over the last of her euros – she’d have to withdraw more cash later, perhaps there was a bank in the centre? – and took the proffered paper bag with its buttery contents back across the road and back through the green door. Inside, she laid two plates on the table and split the pastries in half so Lili could taste each one.
It was an hour before she had to be at the bookshop and she felt a flutter of nerves as she sank her teeth into thepain auxraisins. But they were good nerves, she decided. Because perhaps now she would find her true home. And if not, judging by the delicious treats produced over the road, she could easily drown any sorrows she experienced in butter, chocolate and flaky pastry.
2
Holding Lili’s cold little hand in hers, Adeline stepped forward and pushed open the glass checked door, nudging the little brass bell that hung on a spring attached to the frame, tinkling their welcome.
The smell of ink on paper was unmistakable; reminding her of libraries, the scent of newsprint as she’d packed newspapers in a bag for her paper-round in her early teens, the fragrance of dusty volumes piled high on her desk in the university before she’d left that life behind. There was nobody behind the counter and for a moment she was glad – it gave her a chance to get her bearings, take a measure of the place.
She heard his voice again in her head saying she was crazy – taking a job in a place she’d never been to. But something about the shop already said ‘home’ to her. Its shelf-lined walls with books spine-out displaying their titles, the tables stacked with volumes of various genres. It was ramshackle, a mixture of old and new. Needed a tidy as well as a dust, but it was a pleasant chaos. Something that spoke of a love of books, a need to overstock the shelves and pile the flat surfaces high rather than denyany volume its place. She hoped Lili wouldn’t remark on the need for a good old-fashioned clean here too.
‘Coucou!’ she called. ‘Is anyone here?’
Her voice sounded loud on the empty shop floor – but surely if someone was here, they would have heard the bell? Should she have come in at all? Perhaps she’d missed a notice on the door – ‘Back in ten minutes’, or ‘Closed for the morning’. But surely Monique was expecting them?
Then there was a sound of high heels on wood and a woman’s legs became visible descending the wooden staircase at the back, behind the counter. The movement of colourful fabric, the swing of a skirt, a waist, bodice and finally the whole of her – her slim frame, sun-tarnished skin, hair in a loose chignon. Adeline noticed a pen tucked behind the woman’s ear and another in the chignon, and a white-blue stone on a golden thread at her neck.
The woman turned. ‘You are here!’ she said, sounding delighted as she climbed down the final three steps onto the shop floor. ‘I wasn’t sure if you would come.’
It was the first time Adeline had seen Monique, but she recognised the voice from the telephone. She smiled, reached out a hand. ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I?’
Monique shrugged playfully. ‘Not many people from London want to work in St Vianne. I thought you might change your mind.’
‘You’d be surprised,’ Adeline countered, smiling. ‘I think many people in London would dream of living, working in a place like this.’
‘Ah, they dream!’ Monique said, with a dismissive wave of the hand. ‘But they do not come. They are too frightened.’
Her words reminded Adeline of Kevin’s words – only his had been said in a derogatory way, trying to dissuade her. ‘It’s thekind of dream that should stay a dream,’ he’d argued. ‘People don’t actuallydothings like this.’
She smiled. ‘Well, I suppose I am a person who does.’ She didn’t feel brave though.
‘Yes, I suppose that you are too,’ Monique said, clearly amused. ‘And you must be Lili.’ She crouched down so she was eye level with the little girl. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Lili.’ She looked up at Adeline. ‘Does she understand French? Should I speak in English?’
‘No, she understands,’ Adeline said, feeling a swell of pride. ‘I’ve always used both languages with her.’ Adeline tried to move Lili forward, but the little girl remained stubbornly fixed, just behind her legs. ‘She’ll be going to the school tomorrow, I hope.’
Monique leaned forward, her face playful. ‘But there is no rush, Adeline. Your Lili will be happy here too, I think. As we discussed, she’s welcome in the shop when you are working.’
Lili’s hand tightened in Adeline’s as if to suggest anything but.
Straightening and stepping forward, making Lili scuttle even farther behind her mother, Monique passed them, a waft of floral fragrance in her wake, and moved over to a wooden box on wheels filled with picture books. She crouched down, her yellow dress ballooning around her legs, leaving just a sliver of heel visible, and rifled through the content. ‘Ah!’ she said. ‘Here!’ She lifted out a book with a picture of a cat on the front. ‘For the girl who loves kittens,’ she said, straightening and holding it out.
Adeline felt herself tense as she willed Lili to reach forward and take the book, not to snub Monique’s gesture of friendship. But she needn’t have worried. Lili dropped her hand and reached shyly for the volume; as soon as she gained purchase, she hugged it to herself as if frightened Monique might changeher mind and take it back. ‘You can sit,’ Monique said, gesturing to a small table with chairs in the corner, its surface covered in stumpy wax crayons and discarded paper. ‘Read, if you want.’
Lili gave a short, curt nod, a half-smile and made her way over, still clutching the book to her chest. She sank into the chair and began turning the pages, her blonde hair falling slightly over her face as she dipped her head to read.
‘Thank you,’ Adeline said. ‘You’re right. She does love kittens.’
Monique shrugged. ‘It is nothing. She will be happy for a little while with the book I think.’
Adeline nodded. ‘So,’ she began, gesturing with her arms.
