Page 31 of The Little Provence Book Shop
He laughed, and squeezed her back. ‘I wouldn’t be much of a big brother if I never visited my sister, would I?’
Moments later, he was installed in the armchair in the living room and the kettle was on. She brought one of the wooden chairs through from the kitchen and pulled it close to him so they could talk.
‘Where’s Lili?’ he asked.
‘Asleep, upstairs.’
‘Wow. At eight thirty?’
‘I know. Don’t knock it. Once she’s up and sees you, you won’t stand a chance!’
They smiled at each other; Adeline felt the mood shift as if they were both allowing for a more serious topic.
‘Thanks for coming,’ she said, more quietly.
‘It’s OK. I just…’ He looked at his hands, turning them over as if he were an ill-prepared actor and might find the right words scribbled on them. ‘I had to see for myself that you were OK. That we were OK.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’ He looked at her, their eyes meeting, all seriousness. ‘You’d had a shock. I get it. And there’s no one else there to…’
‘To blame?’ she said softly.
‘Well, yeah,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I’m it, I’m afraid.’
‘Still,’ she said, reaching out and touching his hand. ‘It wasn’t your fault and it wasn’t fair of me to act as if it was.’
He nodded, once, apology accepted, subject closed. ‘Anyway, I’d be mad not to take advantage of the chance of a free holiday in France.’
‘Free?’ she joked. ‘The rooms are very expensive in this hotel, I’m afraid.’
‘Is that so?’ He cocked an eyebrow and they both laughed.
It was wonderful how easily their relationship settled back into its habitual groove. She’d missed him more than she’d realised.
‘Still,’ she said, patting his knee.
‘I just asked myself what Mum would have done,’ he said. ‘She would have come.’
‘She would have,’ Adeline replied, her voice suddenly thick, her throat feeling restricted.
She excused herself and went to make coffee, pouring hot water into her steel coffee pot, then waiting before she pushed the plunger down to remove the grounds from the water. Then she brought him back a steaming mug, a couple of yesterday’s pastries on a tray, and a little jug of milk.
‘Thank you. How the other half live, eh!’ He nodded at the pastries.
‘They’re a bit dry,’ she said apologetically. ‘Try dipping them in the coffee.’
‘Seriously?’ He seemed dubious.
‘It’s the done thing around these parts.’
He looked at her, then dipped the very end of a croissant into his drink, watching as the hot coffee flooded into the parched pastry. Then he bit it, chewing thoughtfully. ‘Not bad,’ he said. ‘Could get used to this.’
She smiled and a comfortable silence settled around them as he sipped his drink and took a few more bites.
Then: ‘I wanted to ask—’ he began.
‘Uncle Kevin!’ a little voice shrieked from the doorway, and he was hit full-on by a tiny girl in a nightie, almost upsetting hiscoffee and very nearly causing him to tip sideways as she flung herself into his arms.
