‘I’ll take you,’ Alain said gently. ‘But you must eat something as well as drink, otherwise you’ll be too weak to go anywhere,’ and he pushed the quiche towards her.
38
The morning of the visit to the hospice, Belinda showered and, feeling foolish, hesitated over what to wear for meeting her dad after such a long time. What did it matter in the scheme of things what she wore? But somehow it did matter. Dad had always liked to see her dressed stylishly. Belinda smiled to herself. He’d have been horrified if he’d ever seen her during her goth phase. The problem was her current wardrobe was purely practical: a couple of pairs of jeans, sweatshirts, T-shirts and two or three white long-sleeved cotton shirts. She felt ridiculously pleased when, having decided on a sweatshirt and jeans, underneath the sweatshirts in the drawer, she found the Breton striped top she’d bought on her visit home and hadn’t yet worn. Perfect with her best jeans and her wedge sandals.
There was no sign of Alain when she went downstairs, but the coffee machine was on and there was a note propped against it. ‘Bernie will have BB for the day. Can you walk BB down to him? As soon as Marie arrives, we’ll go. P.S. You need more than coffee. Have a croissant.’
Belinda forced herself to eat half a croissant and washed it down with her coffee. The way her tummy was churning she prayed it would stay put during the journey. Clipping BB’s lead on, she walked down to Bernie’s cabin. Still early, there were a few campers sitting out enjoying the early-morning sunshine quiet and eating breakfast outside. Bernie was sitting outside his cabin with a mug of coffee on a small table next to him, waiting for her. Ging was curled up again in the bicycle basket.
‘Demat, Bernie,’ Belinda said.
Bernie smiled. ‘Demat, Belinda,’ and he held out his hand for BB’s lead.
‘Trugarez,’ Belinda said, remembering the word for thank you in Breton. She bent down and stroked BB, who was already curled up at Bernie’s feet. ‘You be good. Au revoir,’ she said, trusting it was such a universal word that Bernie couldn’t fail to know it and waved before turning to walk back to the cottage to collect her bag, car keys and jacket.
There was a large Mitsubishi 4 x 4 car parked outside the office when she went to find Alain. Hopefully Marie would be able to deal with whoever had arrived and not delay Alain and her leaving. Belinda stood by her car waiting and wondering whether she should go and seek Alain out. Before she could climb the steps to the office though, he appeared.
‘Ready?’
Belinda nodded. ‘Yes. Who does that belong to?’
‘Me,’ Alain said, pressing the key fob. ‘Come on, in you get.’ He opened the passenger door for her.
Belinda couldn’t contain her surprise. ‘Yours? You’ve traded the 2CV in?’
Alain shook his head. ‘Non. The 2CV is for local trips and is fun. This, this is for serious journeys.’ Once she was in, he closed the door and walked round and got in the driver’s seat. ‘I’ve set the satnav for the quickest route. Should take under an hour.’
Belinda, thankful she didn’t have to concentrate on driving, sat lost in thoughts and memories that chased themselves around and around in her head as the miles flashed past. The car radio was switched to a classic station playing gentle piano music, the sort that could send you to sleep if you weren’t careful, Belinda thought. Alain, concentrating on his driving, glanced across at her once or twice but didn’t attempt to make conversation, something for which Belinda was grateful.
‘I’ve forgotten to buy him something. I should have brought a gift,’ Belinda said, suddenly in a panic at the thought of the forthcoming meeting. ‘Flowers or something.’
‘I think seeing you will be a gift enough,’ Alain said.
Belinda sank back down into her seat. ‘I hope you’re right.’
When Alain pulled up into a visitor’s parking space to one side of the hospice, Belinda didn’t want to get out of the car. Her legs seemed to be frozen into position and wouldn’t move.
‘Alain, I don’t think I can do this,’ she said.
‘Yes you can,’ Alain said gently. ‘Take deep breaths and think positive thoughts. You want me to go first and see if Enzo is well enough for visitors? I tell them who you are? I make sure that you don’t bump into Helena.’
‘Please.’
Alain got out of the car and walked round to Belinda’s side. ‘Come on, out you get. There’s a bench by the main entrance, you can sit there and wait. The fresh air will be good for you.’
Belinda sat on the bench waiting for Alain to return, trying not to shake with nerves. She’d had over twenty-four hours to psych herself up for this visit and suddenly it wasn’t enough. She needed more time – except there would never be enough time. She stared at the modern L-shaped single-storey building. Her father was in there dying. Wouldn’t it be better to keep her memories of him intact? Not destroy them by seeing him as an ill old man. What if he didn’t recognise her? What if he told her to go away? Round and round the questions went until she felt dizzy.
‘The nurse is with him at the moment, once she’s finished, you can see him.’ Alain’s quiet voice broke her out of her reverie. ‘And Helena is not expected until after lunch today.’ He held his hand out. ‘Come on. I’ll take you in.’
Taking a deep breath Belinda stood and reached out for Alain’s hand. This was it, now or never. She could choose to walk into the hospice and see her father for the first time in thirty-five years or she could walk away.
A nurse smiled her welcome at Belinda. ‘Mrs Marshall? I’ll take you through to see your father.’
‘Does he know I’m here?’ Belinda asked nervously. ‘We haven’t been in touch for a very long time. I don’t want to upset him. If you think it’s a bad idea, I can leave.’
‘Yes, he knows you’re here. I’ll come in with you and if I think it’s too much, I’ll ask you to leave, okay? Here we are,’ and she pushed the door open onto a light airy room.
Belinda studied the face of the man who lay in the bed by the window for several seconds, unable to move forward.
The nurse was at his side, speaking gently, ‘Enzo, your daughter is here to see you.’
Enzo turned his head to look at Belinda standing at the foot of his bed. ‘Blindy.’
Belinda, forcing back the tears that threatened at the sound of the old nickname, smiled. ‘Dad,’ she said as she cautiously made her way towards the side of the bed and sat on the chair the nurse had placed there.
‘Oh, Blindy, I never thought to see you again,’ Enzo said, reaching out with his hand for hers.
Belinda gently took the liver-spotted hand with its arthritic swollen knuckles in hers. ‘I love you, Dad. I’ve missed you so much.’
Enzo shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry. I’ve missed you too.’
‘Shh. We’re together again now, so let’s make the best of it. We’ve a lot of catching up to do.’ She sat looking at him, gently stroking his hand and wondering where to begin after all those years of not being in touch.
‘Is… is Jean with you?’
Belinda’s hand stilled and she bit her lip. He didn’t know. She shook her head. ‘No. She died three years ago.’
Enzo closed his eyes but couldn’t stop the tears sliding down his cheeks. Belinda took a tissue from the packet on the bedside table and gently wiped his face. She sat there not speaking, holding and stroking his hand, waiting for him to come to terms with the sad news.
It was several moments before Belinda saw Enzo’s chest heave as he took a deep breath before opening his eyes. ‘She was the love of my life and I failed her. Did she ever forgive me?’
‘Mum urged me to come to Brittany and lay the ghosts to rest,’ Belinda said. ‘She told me she was sorry too.’ She couldn’t in all honesty say whether her mum had forgiven him, she didn’t know, but Enzo seemed to accept her answer and squeezed her hand. ‘I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come and find you. I wish… I wish I’d come three years ago when I promised Mum.’
She fought ba
ck the tears, inwardly berating herself for allowing the feelings of abandonment to overrule her need to have contact with her dad. Seeing him, like this, she knew she would have given anything to turn the clock back and grab whatever extra time with him she could.
‘You’re here now. That’s all that matters.’ Enzo closed his eyes again and they both sat in silence for a few moments, Belinda struggling with her emotions and suspecting that Enzo was the same.
The nurse came in, quietly and efficiently checked everything was all right, smiled at Belinda and left the room again.
‘You look like your mum,’ Enzo said quietly, opening his eyes to watch her. ‘Beautiful. Tell me about your life.’
‘I have a daughter, Chloe, your granddaughter, and she has twins, Charlie and Aimee, which makes you a great-grandad. I have some photos on my phone. Would you like to see?’
When Enzo nodded, Belinda took her phone out and scrolled through to find a couple of Chloe and the twins. She stood up and angled the phone so that Enzo could see the screen.
‘Chloe, she looks like you,’ Enzo said. ‘I would have liked to meet her.’ His words, tinged with regret, were barely audible.
Belinda hesitated, unsure if she was doing the right thing. ‘She’s actually coming to Brittany in a few days. If the doctor agrees, and you’re well enough, would you like me to bring her to see you?’
‘That would be wonderful.’ Enzo smiled. ‘You are married then?’
‘Divorced,’ she answered briefly. ‘Unexpected, but I’m happy about that now.’
‘Do you work?’
‘Yes. I qualified in hotel management and I work for a chain of three hotels in Devon, but that is about to change. At the moment, I’m helping to renovate Camping dans Le Fôret, a campsite not a million miles from where we lived.’ She smiled at her father. ‘I have to admit being back in Brittany feels like coming home.’
‘That’s good to hear. I never stopped loving you or your mum, you know. I so wish things could have been different for all of us,’ Enzo said, his eyes glistening. ‘But Helena…’ He stopped and shrugged shoulders that Belinda could see were painfully thin under his pyjama top.
‘Don’t, Dad,’ Belinda said. ‘I know we’d both change things if we could, but we can’t and now is not the time for recriminations. Now is the time to forgive.’
Enzo nodded and closed his eyes and Belinda realised her visit had tired him out and he’d drifted into sleep. Carefully, she stood up and kissed his forehead.
‘I promise I’ll come again and bring Chloe to see you if I can. Love you.’
The nurse came in as she turned to leave.
‘He’s fallen asleep,’ Belinda whispered. ‘I hope my visit hasn’t been too much for him.’
The nurse shook her head. ‘No, the drugs he’s on caused that. Was it a good visit for you both?’
Belinda nodded. ‘Yes it was. I’m glad I came and ended our estrangement.’ She looked at the nurse. ‘I did tell him that if the doctor agrees, I’ll come back with his granddaughter. Will that be possible?’
‘I’ll have a word with the doctor. Telephone me later and I’ll tell you what he says.’
‘Thank you.’ Belinda paused. ‘Does my father’s wife come at set times to see him?’
‘She comes in the afternoon and spends the evening with him,’ the nurse said. ‘I understand there is something of a family rift, so perhaps it’s best if you come late morning, say?’ she looked at Belinda.
‘I’ll ring before I come. Thank you for your understanding.’ Belinda looked at the nurse as they walked back to the foyer together. ‘How long do you think my father has?’ she asked quietly. It was the question she needed to ask but in truth, she didn’t want to hear the answer voiced.
‘One never can tell, but I doubt it will be long.’
Belinda nodded sadly at the nurse’s words. ‘If I give you my number,’ she said, scrabbling in her bag for a piece of paper and a pencil, ‘will you let me know when…’
‘Of course I will,’ the nurse answered, accepting the piece of paper from Belinda.
‘Ah, here is your husband waiting for you. Goodbye.’
Belinda went to protest that Alain wasn’t her husband, but the nurse had already turned away.
‘Are you all right?’ Alain looked at her anxiously.
Belinda nodded and smiled through the tears that were now coursing freely down her cheeks. ‘He called me Blindy. The worse part was I had to tell him Mum was dead. He was so upset. Oh, Alain, what a dreadful waste the last thirty-five years have been.’
When Alain pulled her into a fierce hug and held her tight, she didn’t protest. She simply gave herself up to the feeling that everything would be all right if only Alain could be around in her life to hug her whenever she needed a hug. Even as she stood in the shelter of his arms Belinda caught her breath at the unexpected thought. Where had that come from? It was just the emotion of the day getting to her – wasn’t it?
39
Back at the campsite, Alain said he’d go and check on Marie and collect the lasagna he’d ordered from Fern for their supper while Belinda walked down to Bernie’s cabin to collect BB.
Walking through the campsite, thoughts about the visit to her dad were still swirling around in her brain. As she’d said to the nurse, she was happy the estrangement was over, but in reality the visit was too late to talk in-depth about the whys and the wherefores of what had happened to their family all those years ago. So many questions would remain unanswered forever because of Enzo’s illness, but she’d be forever glad that she’d kept her promise to her mum. Her dad had always loved her.
Bernie was working in the small garden he’d created in the small strip of land down the side of his cabin. BB was lying on the path watching him and jumped up wagging his tail when Belinda appeared.
Bernie straightened up and smiled at her. ‘Ça va?’ he said slowly.
Belinda nodded. ‘Merci. BB bon?’
Bernie smiled and nodded.
Belinda didn’t have the energy to search her brain for Breton words to have a stilted conversation with Bernie, so she simply smiled when he held out BB’s lead and said, ‘Merci. À demain,’ and hoped he’d understand and forgive her for not staying.
She started to walk away but felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Bernie, with a smile on his face, was holding out three large Marguerite daisies for her. Daisies he’d clearly just picked from the large plant growing at the front of the cabin. Touched, she took them before leaning in towards him and kissing his cheek. ‘Merci, Bernie.’
Fighting back the tears at Bernie’s unexpected kind gesture, Belinda walked on towards her favourite place: the bench by the river. Ten minutes here would calm her and restore her equilibrium before she returned to the cottage for supper with Alain. She pushed open the gate in the hedge and sank down gratefully on the bench. Her presence disturbed a heron standing on the bank just metres away and she watched as the large bird took off to fly downriver before curving towards the opposite bank and landing on the mud at the water’s edge.
Belinda sat there letting her mind wander over the day. The way her father had been so pleased to see her. The way he’d said Jean was the love of his life. The way he’d spoken the name Helena and shrugged.
A question that only he could answer, but one that Belinda knew she could never ask him at this stage of his life, dropped into her mind: Had he been truly happy with Helena? Or had he, like her mum, lived the last thirty-five years with the biggest mistake of his life?
Belinda sighed. She’d never know the whole truth. Neither would she tell him how unhappy Jean had been living her life without him.
Her mobile rang at that moment. Alain.
‘Are you okay? Where are you?’
‘I’m fine. Sitting down by the river.’
‘Supper is ready when you are.’
‘Okay. On my way back. And, Alain, thank you. Thank you for today.’
Belinda sniffed the air appre
ciatively as she walked into the kitchen. ‘Supper smells delicious. Meals like this are going to be so popular in the café. Fern will be the making of it. I hope the new owners will appreciate her.’
Alain glanced up from the salad he was preparing. ‘If they’ve got any sense they will.’
Belinda put the cutlery and glasses on the table and started to tell Alain about the decisions she’d made.
‘I haven’t told Nigel yet, but I’m not going to work for the new owners. At the end of this month, I’ll go home, work a month’s notice, clear out the flat, move in with Chloe, start job hunting and hope and pray I have a new job and home before they move to the Vendée.’
Alain poured them both a glass of wine and they clinked glasses before Belinda continued.
‘I’ve also told my friend, Jane, to visit before the end of the month. I don’t want the new owners sending me a bill for an unauthorised holiday.’
‘That won’t happen,’ Alain said, laughing.
‘You can’t be sure; I know what these hard-headed businessmen are like.’ Belinda sighed. ‘I can’t believe how much I’m going to miss this place.’
‘Then stay. Work with me. You are good, together we could make this place really work.’ Alain stared at her, waiting for a reply.
Surprised at the way her heart jumped at his offer and filled her with the overwhelming desire to do just that, Belinda knew that it was an impossible dream and pushed the thought away.
‘Nice idea, but no. And, just so you know, it’s not you, it’s them.’ Which was the partial truth. She longed to say yes to working with this new gentler Alain, someone whom she was getting to appreciate having in her life, but who knew what the new owners were going to be like?
‘Well, if you ever change your mind, let me know. Come on, let’s eat,’ and Alain took the lasagna out of the oven.
After they’d helped themselves and started to eat, Alain glanced at Belinda curiously.
‘Did you ever have a dream when you were younger? Something that you wanted to do so badly it became an obsession?’
A French Affair Page 20
