Laura was slowing the car and Jeannie recognised the stone wall and the wrought-iron gate of the wee French house that represented another unexpected corner she had turned in her life.
La Maisonette.
The house her daughters had inherited from an uncle they’d never met. The brother-in-law that Jeannie had never met because he’d been an adventurer who could never find the time to get back home. She’d only set foot in the cottage once, on Ellie’s wedding day, well over a year ago now, and the disquiet she’d felt within those ancient stone walls had led to her choosing to stay with Laura in Vence last Christmas. Any reluctance to go inside now was completely overridden, however, by the need to comfort Fiona. To hold the baby that needed her the most right now.
‘Is Ellie still with her?’
‘No. She rang me while I was waiting for you at the airport to say that she’d taken some dinner over, but she’s gone back to her house. She thinks it might be better if you both have some time together – just the two of you. She wanted me to wait this morning, before I came to see her, and I knew she was right. Fi hates being crowded and she might never have told us what was really going on if we’d cornered her.’ A small smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. ‘And, you know, sometimes you justneedyour mammy.’
There was a catch in Laura’s voice that brought new tears to Jeannie’s eyes. Motherhood had softened her eldest daughter, hadn’t it? Or maybe it was the love she’d found with that gorgeous Frenchman of hers. Whatever the reason, the bossy, slightly sharp but capable child she’d probably relied on too much in those early, dark days had become a woman she was more than simply proud of. Someone who was developing a compassion that hadn’t always been one of her strongest traits.
Not that she’d tell Laura that, of course. She knew that the soft brush of her fingers across Laura’s cheek with even a hint of her own smile would convey her appreciation of who she had become, the care she was taking of her sister and of the space she was giving her to be alone with her middle daughter.
The front door was unlocked and Jeannie let herself into La Maisonette.
‘It’s just me,’ she called quietly.
Fi jumped up from the sofa and came straight into her mother’s arms.
‘Oh, Mam… I’m so sorry…’ Her voice broke. ‘I’ve messed everything up, haven’t I?’
‘Och…mo leanna,’ Jeannie murmured. ‘Dinnae fret now… It’s okay…’ She was holding Fi so tightly it was a wonder that she wasn’t struggling to escape, but it felt as if she needed to try making up for all these recent years of not being able to hug, or even touch, this beloved child of hers.
Tears were fair streaming down her face again. She’d thought she’d lost Fiona so long ago.
And she thought it was somehowherfault. Had she treated her differently to Laura and Eleanor? Because she was the one who reminded her most of her father? The way he had been before the troubles started. The gentle giant of a Scotsman that she’d met by chance when he’d come into the emergency department of a hospital in Glasgow needing a wound stitched. The man with the shock of curly auburn hair and the darkest brown eyes who’d looked as if he couldn’t believe his luck when she’d agreed to meet him for a drink after work.
Had she not looked as carefully as she should have because, even if she denied that it could make any difference, she could see too many echoes of the man she’d loved so much? The man who’d simply walked out of her life.
It was true, that saying, that a mother could only be as happy as her least happy child.
She’d known, in her heart, that her least happy child had always been Fiona no matter how well she’d managed to hide it even as a young bairn. It was no defence that she was denying her own pain because caring for the physical needs of her daughters to have a roof over their heads and food on the table had to be what mattered the most. But that was so long ago. There was no excuse for having let it become just the way things were.
No excuses now. Jeannie wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip through her fingers.
‘It’s going to be okay,’ she whispered again. ‘You’re where you need to be, hinny. With your family.’ She finally relinquished her hold on Fi to fish inside the sleeve of her cardigan. ‘Och… where’s my hanky got to?’
‘Oh, Mam… I’ve made you cry. I’m sorry… this is all my fault.’
‘More like my fault, I’d say.’ The hanky was a bit damp but it still worked. She could feel Fi staring at her as she wiped her eyes.
‘You were never one to make a fuss,’ she said. ‘Eleanor would cry and Laura would get cross but you learned to bottle things up and keep them to yourself.’ With a sigh, she sank onto the couch and shook her head. ‘I helped you do that and I shouldn’t have. I encouraged you to go and spend so much time with those ponies at the riding school. I helped you find the money to chase your dream of being a vet, and look how far that took you away from your family.’
Fi sat down on the sofa beside her. ‘You were doing what you knew made me happy, Mam. Like you did for all of us. You were the best mother we could have wished for and… and I’ve let you down. Don’t ever say it was your fault. Please…’
Jeannie knew how the protection had gone in both directions. They were all bullied, but they couldn’t have gone anywhere else, could they?
What if Gordon had come back as unexpectedly as he’d left, and they were no longer there?
There were some friends who stayed loyal but Jeannie knew the girls had been taunted at school and she’d been subjected to the kind of put-downs that women could be so good at. The way a conversation would stop the instant she walked into the post office. The flick of a glance down her body and back up, to meet her gaze so fleetingly it was a blatant dismissal of any worth she might have. She ignored it, to try and protect her girls, and maybe they did the same, to protect her. Never talking about it was the easiest way to try and move on. To let their lives heal.
To hope that hearts could also heal.
Was it possible that this was actually the real beginning of that happening?
‘On one condition,’ Jeannie said. She took another breath to emphasise how important her next words were. ‘Don’t you ever say it wasyourfault, either. None of it. Your daddy leaving us made life hard and we all did the best we could. That another man could have hurt you even more makes me sick to my stomach…’ Jeannie had to stop speaking and press her fingers to her mouth. ‘I don’t know how to help you,leanna… I wish I did.’
‘It helps that you’re here.’ Fi said softly. ‘That it’s not a secret any longer.’
