Page 73 of The Little Provence Book Shop
They made their way to the lift, Lili dancing and pulling on Adeline’s arm in her excitement, babbling about how she would tell her newmamieall about school and her friends and the concert that was coming up, and did Adeline think that she’d give her a gift, and would she come and live with them one day? In the end, Adeline stopped trying to answer Lili’s questions and let her babble away – realising it was her own version of excitement prompting the interrogation rather than any real need to know the answers to the torrent of questions.
This time, Sophia had taken a seat near the window on one of the red, plush chairs that flanked a mahogany table. She stood when they walked in, her eyes locking with Adeline then moving down to see Lili. This time, she didn’t rush towards them but stood waiting for them to reach her.
She crouched down to Lili’s level and looked into her eyes. ‘Bonjour,Lili,’ she said. ‘I am Sophia. Your grandmother.’ Only an adult could have detected the wobble of emotion in her voice.
Lili, suddenly shy, gave a smallbonjourand then hid behind Adeline’s legs. But after she’d been lifted into one of the velvet chairs, and offered an orange juice with a straw, she began to gain confidence and chattered away to Sophia with an ease that was almost astounding. Was it blood that led to a near-instant connection like this? Adeline wondered. Or simply the fact that she knew this woman was a grandmother, and that she understood this meant she was more important to her than some other grown-ups?
She sat back and sipped her coffee, watching with pleasureas Sophia leaned forward and nodded her head as Lili talked. Once in a while, her mother would glance up and their eyes would lock and they’d exchange a look of pleasure – a shared joy at a sweet story or expression or simply an acknowledgement of how special this moment was – before returning her gaze to her brand-new granddaughter.
Across the room, past the other customers sipping their drinks or standing at the bar or reading books on solitary tables, nobody saw the woman with dark hair tied in a neat chignon, whose mid-length skirt swung a little when she moved. Nobody saw the expression on her face as she gazed at the three generations of women who were both strangers and closely connected, finding out about one another for the first time. Nobody noticed the glistening in her eyes and the fact that once in a while she’d take a step forward as if to join them, before shrinking back, a look of fear skittering across her features.
Everyone was too engaged, too busy, too taken with their own conversations or drinks or newspapers or books to see Monique hovering in the doorway, her gaze fixed on the three of them as they talked.
35
‘Hi, are you OK?’ Adeline said when Monique answered her call. ‘I’m sorry we were so long.’
All in all, it had gone well. Sophia had been completely taken by Lili, apart from the moment when her new granddaughter had sprayed a little orange juice on her when talking too enthusiastically. She’d stiffened a little, tutted and mopped her dress. Lili had looked at Adeline wide-eyed. But the moment had passed, Sophia had apologised – ‘Sorry, it is a favourite of mine, but please, it’s OK’– and they’d relaxed into conversation again.
Eventually, Adeline had said she had to go and Sophia had given them both a hug and promised to stay in touch. She still felt as if Sophia was somehow a stranger – she knew so little about her. But they’d see each other again. So, while there were still things unsaid, questions unanswered, there was a lightness too. Because something that was broken had begun to heal. Adeline was convinced that they could all feel it – even Lili – that sense of belonging and rightness that had washed overthem all as they sat and bonded over coffee and orange juice and – in Lili’s case – probably too many madeleines.
When she’d glanced at her phone and realised the time, she’d felt terrible. She’d told Monique they’d probably be an hour – but hadn’t banked on their talking for two. She knew her friend would understand, but it seemed a bit remiss all the same to have stayed away so long and not contacted her or encouraged her, once again, to come down and join them.
She’d knocked on the door of Monique’s room on the way past, but there’d been no answer. Her own room was also silent and empty when she’d slipped the keycard through the sensor to let them both in. So instead she’d called, wanting to know if Monique was OK.
‘Oui, I just went for a walk,’ came the response.
‘Well, we’re back,’ Adeline said. ‘Let me buy you some tea perhaps? Dinner? There are some lovely restaurants.’
There was a deep sigh. ‘Perhaps. Or we can order to the room,peut-être? I am feeling quite tired. And our train will be early tomorrow.’
‘Of course, whatever you want.’ Adeline slipped off her shoes and felt her socked feet sink into the soft carpet.
Lili had already flung herself on the bed, so she picked up the remote and was about to flick through to find a cartoon or film when she realised that her daughter’s eyes had already closed. The excitement of both the morning and the afternoon had wiped her out, and she lay curled into herself and completely unconscious. Usually, if she fell asleep at this time, she’d try to gently wake her – to make sure she had something sensible to eat, a bath, got changed into her pyjamas before settling down. Today, just this once, it didn’t seem that important.
‘I will come back.’ Monique’s voice was still rather flat. ‘Perhaps I will be half an hour.’
‘OK, see you soon,’ Adeline said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and ending the call. Instinctively she checked her emails and found one from Kevin that he must have sent this morning.
Hi sis,
Well, I’ve done it! I’ve been on a date. And you know what? It didn’t go too badly.
How are you? Have you found out more about your birth mother? I want to hear everything.
I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch for a few days – it’s been manic at work and time’s just flown by. But I’m looking at flights for June – I’d love to pop out and see you again, and that little rascal of a niece. If that’s OK?
I’ll give you a call at the weekend if you’re around?
See you soon.
Kev x
She smiled reading his message and resolved to reply tomorrow on the train, when things seemed a little less fraught and she knew how to put into words everything that had changed since she’d last updated him.
On Facebook, there was a message from Chris.
Hey you. Sorry I’ve been crap. We’ve heard we’re getting inspected this term, so everyone is crazy at work. Stressful! But we need to catch up properly. I feel like I’ve been a bit of a crap friend since you left work. You must update me on ALL YOUR NEWS. And I’ve spoken to Dave; reckon wemight manage to take a little trip to France at some point soon – maybe half-term?
