‘Oui, it’s tradition in France. We leave our shoes in front of the fire, with a carrot for Gui. And, if we’re lucky, we’ll wake up in the morning and find the carrot has been replaced with a gift.’
‘Ah,’ Noah says. ‘I see.’
Manon and JP join us in the library wearing matching Christmas jumpers. ‘Yes, we’re already at the matching clothes stage. I’ve heard it enough already,’ she says.
‘Shall we open presents now?’ I ask, standing in front of the crackling fire. Soon our guests will join us for Christmas Eve drinks and nibbles.
‘Oui,’ Manon says, and she takes a present from her pocket for JP. He opens it to find a key. ‘The key to my heart.’ I’m stunned silent, wondering what the punchline is, because this isManon, but instead, she steps towards him and gives him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Look after it.’
‘Aww.’ I’m genuinely choked up by her gift to him, but try not to show it or she’ll harp on about me and my feelings again.
I go to the tree and find a small box with a gift card bearing Manon’s name.
She tears off the wrapping with no concern for preserving the paper. She squeals. ‘“Manon De la Croix – Manager”,’ she reads from the small A-frame desk nameplate.
‘I thought I’d make it official.’
‘I love it,’ she says, giving me a hug.
‘And for you,’ Noah says, handing me a gift.
I open it to reveal a stamp. It reads:A gift from L’Hôtel Bibliothèque Secrèt.
‘It’s a book stamp for the books you gift your guests, so they remember their stay here.’
It’s the perfect bookworm gift. ‘Merci, Noah. It’s sweet. And for you…’
I find a large gift-wrapped box and pass it to him. Unlike Manon, he takes his time unwrapping the gift. ‘A bucket?’ he queries.
‘There’s more!’
He falls back laughing when he figures it out. ‘A new squeegee?’
‘Not just any squeegee – it’s a brand new and improved one that will leave you with a streak-free shine, even in winter.’
‘I do like a clean window.’
Juliette and Kiki join us, bringing a bottle of wine. ‘Merry Christmas! Timothee and Zac will be here soon. They’re just finishing their very last shift at the market.’
‘Great. Let me get the Christmas charcuterie. We can eat in here.’
‘I’ll help you,’ Juliette says.
We return with platters full of cheese, cured meats, olives, terrine and fresh baguettes, and our family of six joins in the fun. The children are busy leaving their shoes by the fire and demanding more carrots for Gui. Even Renee joins us, giving me a tentative smile when I offer her a glass of wine.
Margaret arrives, smiling. ‘Anais! Your manuscript! Messy, yes, but what a feat! It’s going to be your biggest yet!’
I have Noah to thank for that. It turns out my neighbour makes a very dashing hero when I don’t kill him off in the second sentence.
We spend the evening playing Christmas games with the children before they go up to bed. We continue the festivities, including partaking in the thirteen desserts, a French Christmas tradition.
47
CHLOE’S LAST LETTER
I write this last letter and enclose it in my manuscript. This manuscript is my most important work to date. It is more than a memoir; it is a love story that I hope will last through the ages.
It is the story of my life, my marriage and subsequent disappearance. It’s about a man who terrorised me and took my voice away. And then my beloved found me. Lily-Louise appeared when I had given up all hope. I escaped to her family hotel and assumed another name so he could not find me. I left a note for him, alluding to the fact I was taking my own life and hoped he would believe it.
