by Jo Thomas
‘Mums know you don’t really mean it,’ says Rhi.
‘I’m just glad we didn’t have children. I wouldn’t have had a clue what to do,’ says Lou. ‘Patrick was enough for me at the time. We were completely in love. We didn’t need anyone else,’ she adds, in a rare moment of letting down her guard.
‘Having JB was enough, too,’ Stephanie says quietly, and we all turn to look at her. Her head is lowered, and I can feel her pain.
‘You don’t have to say if you don’t want to.’ I put a hand on hers.
‘It’s okay,’ she says. ‘He was the good bit in my life.’ She looks at Tomas. ‘I didn’t have the best start. My mother was not a good mother. She drank and smoked and eventually drank herself to death.’
My heart twists.
‘But I got myself to school when I wasn’t looking after her. After she died, I got a little lost. I knew JB from school. He and I got together, but the other boys teased him, saying I was the scruffy kid, from no home. But I always kept our little flat nice. When I got pregnant, I ran. I didn’t want to ruin his life. He didn’t need a child and to have the other lads tease him. I didn’t want to tie him down.’ She pauses. ‘I came here with no plans. If it wasn’t for the support of the others by the riverside clearing, and people like Henri, I don’t know what would have happened to me.’
I hear a sniff from Rhi, and Lou has something in her eye too.
‘And now you,’ she says quietly, and I squeeze her hand.
No one speaks. We all watch Tomas being a frog as the sky turns to an amazing shade of light purple, of lavender.
‘I don’t think Tomas could ruin anyone’s life,’ I say. ‘And I think he is very lucky to have someone like you to love him.’
‘We should find this JB!’ says Rhi, banging the table, making the empty bottles rattle. ‘Let him know he has responsibilities!’ And I get the feeling she’s referring to her own experience as a young single mother, and Michael, who walked out on her and the kids. She ended up working at the department store with Lou and me one Christmas to afford presents for the kids, but later, when they were at school, she went back to college to retrain. ‘I’ll give you a good haircut too! It can really change how you feel about yourself,’ she says. I’m hoping she means in the morning, not now.
‘She’s right,’ says Lou. ‘JB might be delighted to find out he has a Tomas in his life. And a good haircut really does make you feel great!’ She holds up a finger shakily. ‘Nails too!’
My mind is whirring about what to do for the best.
‘It’s up to you, Stephanie,’ I say, clearly not having drunk quite as much as my friends. ‘If you want to find JB, we can …’
Suddenly I find myself wondering what Fabien would think of this idea and wishing I could ask his advice. But maybe Henri is the person to speak to. He has much more experience and has brought up daughters. Am I saying the right things? I think of Mum and what she might do. I can only do what I feel might be right for Stephanie and Tomas.
‘Really? You think he’d like to know?’
‘Look, there are no certainties, but maybe he deserves a chance to get to know his child.’
She looks at me. ‘Then I’d like Tomas to meet his father. I always wanted a father. Sadly, it was never meant to be.’
‘I never met mine either,’ I tell her quietly. ‘He and my mother broke up before I was born. My mum brought me up. I never felt the need to track him down. I was happy with Mum. We were a family.’
‘Didn’t you want to know? I did,’ she says. ‘I always hoped there was someone out there who’d love me like I wanted to be loved.’
I shake my head. ‘As long as you feel loved, that’s all you need.’
‘I didn’t,’ she says, with a flash of anger in her eyes. ‘My mother loved drink and drugs far more than she loved me, or she wouldn’t have left me to bring myself up, would she?’
We all fall silent.
‘It’s up to you, Stephanie. It’s your choice,’ I finally say.
‘I’d like Tomas to know his father, to know there was someone else he could turn to if anything happened to me.’
‘Then it’s a plan!’ says Rhi, banging the table, her enthusiasm fuelled by wine. ‘Tomorrow!’
Tomas falls over and cries. Stephanie jumps up and goes to pick him up, as does Rhi.
‘Ah, he’s tired,’ says Rhi, and Stephanie stares at her. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ says Rhi. ‘I have to remember I’m not a mum any more. Well, not one that’s needed. At least the salon still needs me. Must check the iPad!’
‘But you’re a good friend,’ I say, stopping her getting it out again, as she’s been doing at every opportunity. ‘And I’m so glad you came.’
‘And tomorrow we’ll find Tomas’s father,’ she says.
‘Hmm, but now we have to make up your beds,’ I say, and can see that my two wobbly friends are going to be of no use whatsoever. I look at all the lavender plants I have to deal with. There’s a lot to do. I just hope I’m doing the right thing in helping Stephanie find Tomas’s father. But I know we have to try. I’ve never felt such responsibility for someone else’s happiness before, and it’s terrifying.
TWENTY-FIVE
‘How was Henri?’ I ask Stephanie, when she returns from delivering the desserts the next day.
‘A little tired. I told him he should rest but he said he’s fine. He has too much to do to put his feet up. Too many people relying on him.’
‘Surely he could close the bistro for a week or two. Go on holiday.’
‘Henri would never close.’ She puts the money on the table, with the shopping, then hands me the receipt.
The swallows circle high in the clear blue sky, and the crickets chirp among the grassy clumps in the big empty field under the hot July sun.
‘I should plough this if I’m going to put in these plants, or weed it at least,’ I say, looking out through the French windows at the field, then across the valley to the purple patchwork quilt of Serge’s land. I look at all the lavender plants I watered early that morning in the sunlight as it reached through the tall oak trees, hanging with balls of mistletoe, like great Christmas baubles. The air was full of the smell of pine, rosemary and lavender, and I want to start digging over the soil for the new plants. But we have other things to do today, ghosts to lay to rest. I take a deep, reviving breath, feeling the calm and strength the air here gives me. I must get them planted soon and send a gift to Serge to thank him. I’ll take him some biscuits on market day, I think.
‘So, are we going? Did you mean it?’ Stephanie asks nervously, having helped me put away the shopping. The kitchen has become much more like home than the empty shell it was the day Ollie left.
‘If you want to,’ I say cautiously. It must be her decision. I don’t know JB so I can’t know if this is a good or bad thing. I can only be there for her.
‘I’ve decided. I want to find JB. I want him to meet his son,’ she says. ‘He may not want me, but I hope he’ll want Tomas. I think that’s why I like Fabien so much, because he likes Tomas. I want the best for my boy.’
My heart and stomach lurch at the sound of his name. ‘I know you do. Come on, then. Let’s find JB and see if we can introduce him to Tomas. Do you know where we’re going and how to get there?’
She nods, with an excited smile on her face.
Soon the five of us, including Tomas, are on the bus. Once Rhi and Lou emerged from their long, peaceful night’s sleep, we went into town and we’re on our way. It’s hot outside but the bus is cool. Rhi is checking the salon on her iPad, using the free Wi-Fi, checking bookings and giving clear instructions to her staff about clients she would usually handle and how they like their hair. I know what a sacrifice she has made to come out here. Lou is checking her reflection in the tinted window, thinking I can’t see her doing it but I can.
We travel to a smart, plane-tree-lined neighbouring town. We get off the bus.
‘This is lovely,’ says Rhi. ‘We could have
lunch?’ she suggests, and we all frown at her. ‘After we’ve found JB, of course,’ she adds hastily.
‘Why didn’t we just find him on Facebook, like everyone else?’ asks Lou.
‘Stephanie felt, and I agree, that Facebook isn’t the place for this kind of conversation. She’d rather meet him face to face.’ And I’m nervous for her.
It’s a much newer town than Ville de Violet. Small and neat. Everything in its place. There aren’t the older properties of our town, or its quaint cobbled streets, characterful archways and alleys. There is a cream-coloured town hall, and a sparkling fountain in the middle of the main square, a big new chemist, next to a huge supermarket, and floral decorations on the roundabout.
‘This way,’ says Stephanie, holding Tomas close to her.
We follow her off the main street into an estate of small, neat houses. I can tell we’re getting close when her footsteps slow. She seems to be making a different journey of her own.
‘Is this where you grew up, Stephanie?’
She shrugs in the way she does when she wants to keep life at arm’s length. ‘Not here, but near. That way,’ she jerks a thumb, ‘keep going out of town, past the skatepark, following the graffiti trail. Before that, we were in Marseille. Mostly Marseille,’ she says. ‘We tried living here when she wanted to get clean, but it didn’t last. She ended up spending more and more time back in Marseille.’
‘Is this …?’ I start.
‘She died in Marseille. The gendarmes came to tell me,’ she says. There’s a hollowness in her eyes I haven’t seen before. A deep well where the love is missing.
‘Maman,’ says Tomas, too tired to walk now. Maybe we should get a pushchair for him.
Stephanie scoops him into her arms. Then she looks at me. ‘Here, take him,’ she says, and hands him to me. ‘I’ll go there alone and see if JB’s in. If he is, I’ll speak to him first. Then I’ll come back to you if he wants to meet Tomas.’ The hand-over happens without me thinking about it.
‘You sure you don’t want me to come with you? Rhi or Lou could look after Tomas.’
She shakes her head. ‘You look after him, please.’
She’s entrusting me with everything that means anything to her in the world.
‘We’ll take a little walk over to that bit of greenery,’ I point, ‘and look at the flowers, les fleurs, eh, Tomas?’
She drops her head and walks away just as she did when she arrived, like a whirlwind, in my life just a few weeks ago. Both our lives have changed since our worlds literally collided. Ralph pulls at his lead, wanting to sniff and explore. What an unusual bunch we must seem: Lou, with her Dolly Parton looks, Rhi on her phone, ringing the salon back home, me, Tomas and Stephanie, all of us here for each other. All of us with a past that’s left its footprints in the landscape of our lives.
I put Tomas down and he runs around chasing bees and butterflies in the unrelenting July sunshine, while Rhi and Lou head for the shade of a big tree. I can just see Stephanie from where I am. She’s standing on a doorstep talking to someone. She isn’t invited in, and I’m indignant on her behalf. I can just see the person pulling the door closed behind them and joining her on the front doorstep. It must be JB. My heart lifts for her and Tomas. They’re talking. That’s good, I think. I watch intently, hoping that, any minute now, they’ll walk this way together for Tomas to meet his father. I check his face and give it a quick polish with a wet wipe, then turn back. They’re not standing on the doorstep any longer. The front door is shut and I have butterflies. Then I see Stephanie appearing from behind a large yellow flowering bush. I can’t see JB. Is he following her? Or is she walking back to us on her own?
TWENTY-SIX
Her head is held high. She says nothing. Scoops Tomas up and holds him close to her, despite his protests. She looks at me with angry tears in her eyes, and I feel their fury burrowing into mine. She turns and walks, without a word, towards the bus stop. We follow her silently, and return to Ville de Violet and Le Petit Mas. None of us speaks because there is nothing you can say when the father of your child has just refused to see him or have anything to do with you. I feel wretched, and angry, and I want to go back and tell JB what a mistake he’s making, what a wonderful mum Stephanie is, what a precious little boy Tomas is. I want to tell Stephanie how brave she is. But, right now, I think she blames me for the pain she’s feeling.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Next morning, after a sombre night, I walk downstairs, wondering how to make things right with Stephanie. I need to tell her how brave she is, and what a great job she’s doing with Tomas. As I come downstairs, I hear the front door click shut. Strange. Stephanie must still be avoiding me. Or maybe it’s the wind whipping up outside again. The mistral is back. The shutters are rattling on their hinges. I walk into the kitchen. Tomas is sitting at the table, Ralph at his feet.
‘Stephanie,’ I call. Maybe she’s nipped back to the caravan, knowing I was here to keep an eye on Tomas when she heard me coming downstairs.
‘Would you like some chocolat chaud, Tomas?’ I ask. Usually Stephanie has started to get out the ingredients for the next recipe in the book and decide what she needs to buy when she walks into town to deliver that day’s desserts. Today the work surface is empty and she hasn’t turned on the oven to warm up.
‘Stephanie,’ I call again, looking outside towards the caravan. There’s the toot-toot of the bakery van, and Tomas jumps down from his chair, clutching Monsieur Lapin, which he never goes anywhere without, and the two of us run down the drive to buy bread and croissants for everyone’s breakfast. I hand over a box of biscuits to Simone, the baker, and receive our baguettes, croissants and Tomas’s pain au chocolat. He insists on carrying the baguettes, which are far too long for him and almost topple out of his arms. It makes me smile, until I remember Stephanie’s tears when she walked away from JB’s home. Today we will throw ourselves into our work and hope that it helps to mend her broken heart.
We walk into the house as Rhi and Lou are coming downstairs.
‘Coffee? Tea? Breakfast?’ I ask. ‘Stephanie!’
‘Maman!’ Tomas shouts, carrying his bread with pride into the kitchen.
It’s only then I see a note on the table.
TWENTY-EIGHT
I snatch it up and read it, the blood draining from my face. Suddenly I’m freezing cold despite the sun warming the day outside. My phone rings. I spin to left and right, looking for where I’ve left it. Rhi and Lou join in. Rhi sees it in the fruit bowl and hands it to Lou, who tries to pass it to me but it slips through my hands on to the floor with a clatter, making Tomas jump. He drops the baguettes and bursts into tears as Ralph snatches one and runs off with it.
‘Allô! Stephanie!’ I shout, into the phone. I scoop Tomas on to my hip and sway gently to soothe him.
‘Del? It’s me!’
My heart plummets.
‘Ollie,’ I say flatly, disappointed. ‘Look, I’m really sorry but I can’t talk right now.’
‘Del, I really need a conversation with you.’
‘Ollie, there’s something I really need to do.’
‘Del, after ten years of marriage, it’s the least you can do. Just hear me out!’
I take a deep breath. Tomas has settled and Rhi has handed him a pain au chocolat, which he is eating, scattering crumbs over my right shoulder. I try to put him on a chair, but he starts to cry again so I stand up and hold him.
‘What’s that noise?’ asks Ollie.
‘Oh, nothing, just a chair, squeaking.’ I look at Rhi and Lou.
‘So, Rhi and Lou are there. I asked them … I wanted to be sure, Del. Is this what you really want?’
‘Is what what I really want, Ollie?’ I snap.
‘Is it really over for you? Is there no way we can get over this?’
‘No, Ollie, it’s really over.’
‘You’re sure? I want to be clear that this is what you want.’
‘I’m sure.’ I sigh, needing to get off the
phone. ‘We agreed. You get the money in the account and I get the house.’
‘And that’s okay with you, is it?’
‘Yes. If you need me to sign something, just send it on. Now, I’ve really got to go, Ollie.’
‘And you’re staying in France for good,’ he says.
I sigh again. ‘If I can, yes, I’m staying right here in Le Petit Mas.’ My home, I think.
Suddenly there is silence and I wonder if he’s going to say something else. But I really don’t have time. ‘Okay, Ollie? I have to go.’
‘Right, but, Del?’
‘Yes?’ I’m about to press ‘end call’.
‘I’m sorry, okay?’
‘Really, nothing to be sorry about. We just have to be happy in our new lives,’ I say, and mean it. ‘But I have to go.’
‘I feel I should explain,’ Ollie says.
My heart sinks. We’re about to go over old ground. ‘Ollie, I’m sorry. We’ve been over this. No need for any explanations. We’re living our own lives now. I have to go.’
‘Goodbye, Del.’
‘Goodbye, Ollie,’ I say quickly. I throw the phone on to the table and pick up the note again.
‘What’s up?’ says Rhi.
‘Is Ollie okay?’ asks Lou. ‘Did he talk to you? He said he was going to phone. Explain.’
‘It’s not Ollie that’s the problem.’ I look at the two of them, who glance at each other. ‘It’s Stephanie!’ My mouth goes dry. ‘She’s gone!’
TWENTY-NINE
‘Gone?’ they say at the same time.
‘She can’t have gone! Not with Tomas here!’ says Rhi. If they’re looking as devastated as I feel, this must be happening.
‘Look.’ I hold out the note and slowly lower Tomas on to the chair, his ever-faithful companion Ralph by his side. He reaches out and puts one hand on top of his head.
Rhi takes the note and passes it to Lou.
