They didn’t even get up as she’d slowly approached them. She didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. It felt like something in her chest – something spiky and heavy – was getting big enough to choke her. It was hard enough to breathe, let alone try and talk, but maybe the donkeys didn’t need to hear her voice to remember who she was. Or maybe they could sense her need to be close to them.
She’d knelt down in front of them, extending her hands, palm out so they could sniff her and, after what felt like too long to hold her breath, she felt the velvet tickle of their nostrils and could see the movement of their ears coming forward. Fi had wriggled closer and wrapped her arms around Marguerite’s neck and even that wasn’t enough to make the donkey scramble to her feet.
Itwasenough to make Fi bury her face against the shaggy coat that felt like an old doormat compared to the glossy horses she was so used to. It also felt like the biggest, and, okay, probably the dirtiest teddy bear ever, but it was enveloping her with the most astonishing sensation of comfort.
Of safety.
Of being home.
And that was when Fi let that comfort seep inside her, deep enough that its warmth could start melting that spiky lump that was filling her chest and crushing her heart. It melted into hot, stinging tears that she had to push out before they had the chance to go solid again, because she’d been living with that lump for too many years already and she had the horrible feeling that, if she couldn’t get rid of it now, she never would.
Fi hadn’t cried like this in… well, she’dnevercried quite like this.
She hadn’t visibly cried at all since she’d learned that tears were a form of applause for bullies, letting them know that they’d achieved what they’d set out to do in making you feel smaller. Less of a desirable person. Unimportant and unwanted, even. She’d learned to shield herself so that the barbs of the taunts about her body shape or hair or that her daddy was a murderer couldn’t penetrate far enough to make her eyes leak and provide proof that they’d found their target.
She cried now until she was drained of all those tears that had been behind a dam for so many years, and then she found that the last of her energy had been washed away as well. The emotional and physical exhaustion of days of travelling that had felt like a fight for survival had finally caught up with Fi and it felt like her bones had melted along with enough of that lump to make breathing easy again.
She couldn’t move.
But that was okay. The donkeys didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get started on their day, so Fi could just sit here with them.
And wait.
She didn’t even have the strength to wonder what it was she might be waitingfor.
Until she looked up to find that her sister, Ellie, was walking slowly towards her, the look on her face a mix of concern, a plea to be allowed to come closer and an offer of the kind of unconditional acceptance and love that Marguerite and Coquelicot had wrapped her in from the moment they’d whiffled her hands with the feather-soft touch of their nostrils and lips.
Aye… this was what she’d been waiting for. Maybe – finally – she was ready for this. She needed to reach out and see if she could keep a grip on it, even, because it felt like she might not be strong enough to survive without it any longer.
Family.
3
‘Come inside?’ Ellie’s invitation was gentle. ‘Let me make you a cup of tea.’
Fi was still sitting on the dry grass. Marguerite and Coquelicot had unfurled their legs and scrambled to their feet to go and greet Ellie and gently inspect the bump of the baby tied to her chest, the dangling legs limp enough to suggest that she was sound asleep. They ignored the small, scruffy white dog who had tucked himself between her feet. Fi cast a sideways glance at the big house on the other side of the olive grove. Ellie’s husband, Julien, would be in there.
‘I didn’t mean our place.’ Ellie had always been a little too good at reading her sisters’ minds. She turned her head so that the little stone cottage beyond the lemon orchard was directly in her gaze. ‘I meantyours. Which it is, for as long as you’d like it to be. There’s clean sheets on the bed and milk in the fridge because I thought Mam might change her mind about where she wants to sleep?—’
‘Mam’scoming?’
‘Yes. She’s arriving tonight. It’s Lili’s first birthday the day after tomorrow. She wanted to come a day early so she can help get ready for the party.’
Oh,no… How had she completely forgotten that her mother would be in France in the coming days? Fi had swerved her first instinct to run home to the safety of her childhood to try and spare Jeannie Gilchrist the pain of the trouble she’d got herself into, but it suddenly felt like she’d chosen the wrong direction in the maze. She had a dead end right in front of her and she was simply too tired to turn around just yet to find a different way.
Ellie was turning back before Fi could try and hide her dismay.
‘But she doesn’t want to stay in La Maisonette,’ Ellie added quickly. ‘She even said she’d like to stay in that little hotel in Vence that we all like so much. Laura wants her to stay with them so she can get full birthday party immersion. I said I’d love to have her inourspare room so she can get full Bonnie immersion. Whatever she chooses, I think we all know why she’d rather not be in this wee house, so it really is all yours. Mam doesn’t even need to know you’re here, unless you want her to?’
Maybe Ellie could sense that it was the last thing Fi wanted. The smile she offered faltered and she looked away, bending her head to brush just the tips of her daughter’s hair with her lips. The delicacy of the touch reminded Fi of the way the donkeys had welcomedher. She felt her breath escaping in an inaudible sigh. Maybe she hadn’t chosen the wrong direction, after all.
The tufty hair was all Fi could see of Bonnie in the wrap, apart from small dangling legs and feet encased in the soft fabric of a sleepsuit.
Baby hair…
She could feel the shape and hardness and weight of that lump in her chest again now. No surprises there, when a part of it was the shape of a tiny baby. This wasn’t the first time she’d recognised the irony that something so ethereal could still feel so solid. So heavy…
Her earlier tears had melted enough of the lump for it not to be interfering with her breathing now but the core of it was still there. She knew how to push it into a space where it could be hidden, however. Goodness knows, she’d had enough practice, including her brief visit at Christmastime with the challenge of meeting her sisters’ partners and her new niece. But Lili had been well past the newborn stage by then. Spending time with Bonnie was going to be so much harder.
