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Robert flung his keys on the coffee table in the salon and disappeared into the kitchen. I heard glasses clinking, followed by the distinctive sound of a cork popping. The apartment appeared even bigger after time spent in Claudette’s bijou space, but I had no wish to sit in my favourite chair, so remained standing. A tiny flutter of excitement at Aunt Ada’s presence quelled the bubble of anger and questions.

Aunt Ada held out her arms. ‘Come here, Maisie. I need a big hug. You’ve no idea how good it is to see you.’ I could feel her shaking when she hugged me.

‘It’s good to see you too. I missed you so much.’ My voice cracked. ‘But why this elaborate plan? All you had to do was talk to me and tell me about Bella and the pen name.’

‘I tried to encourage you to become an author. You don’t listen to advice and are fiercely independent like me, so I decided to hook you into a mystery and get you writing. I set up the clues before I left Heatherbridge.’ When she talked, I noticed she did not have any eyebrows and her skin was pale and translucent. There was something wrong.

Aunt Ada and Robert watched me, pleading with their eyes for me to understand.

Stranded near the window of the large salon, I peered down to the street below to gather my thoughts. It felt like sand was scratching my throat. Breathing in a sob, I swivelled around to face them. ‘I’ve been so sad and lost without you. I just can’t take this in.’ My aunt’s gaunt appearance made me lower my voice. ‘I’m flipping angry you deceived me but so happy they were wasted tears.’ Conscious I could cry any minute, I looked down.

‘Please forgive me. I didn’t know you thought I was dead. It hurts to think you suffered on my account. I had to get away because... I wanted you to wonder why I had left so suddenly and follow me here to Paris.’

‘Surely Felix told you about headlines in the local news?’ Aware my aunt looked frail, I pointed a finger at Robert, directing my frustration at him.

‘Maisie, please. There’s no need to raise your voice.’ Robert held Aunt Ada. ‘I told you, my house in the countryside is off grid. I read Felix’s emails when I got back.’

Aunt Ada adjusted the scarf on her head and her hand shook. ‘And he emailed me as soon as he could, but I lost my phone and when I found it there was no charge on it. I’m so forgetful these days.’

Remembering the notebook where she had reminders about her tea parties, I nodded. Worried her forgetfulness might be linked to the decline in her health, I paused for a beat. ‘It’s terrible you are losing your memory. Poor you.’

Aunt Ada did not say anything. But when the sun shone in the room, I noticed her pale skin and dark circles around her eyes. A niggle of worry returned again and I stated, ‘You don’t look well.’

‘I’ve got cancer.’ Shaking her head, she made it clear she did not want any sympathy. Even when ill with a stroke years ago, she became very angry if anyone fussed over her.

‘Aunt Ada?’ Feeling awful for my earlier outburst, I studied the parquet floor, noticing some pieces of wood were not fixed down. ‘Why did you leave? I would have looked after you.’

‘I’m so sorry, love,’ mumbled Aunt Ada. ‘I couldn’t cope with pity and sadness and so left when I had the cancer diagnosis.’

‘Oh no.’ Sadness was the only emotion I could recognise.

She rubbed gently at the frown on my forehead and kissed me. ‘I was sad at first but when I got here I bought a campervan so I had flexibility to travel and rest. I planned to visit Robert before booking into a private cancer hospital somewhere in France. If you’re going to be ill, you may as well go somewhere glamorous with good food. Robert organised treatment here in Paris and then I convalesced at his artists’ retreat. It was just the two of us as he cancelled all the other guests. I blogged and he painted. I became lost in creating a mystery for you. It gave me strength to think about your future and Bella’s, even if mine was uncertain.’

Tension pushed down on my head, and I stared at her. ‘But…erm Cancer,’ I whispered. ‘Will you be …’

‘It is bowel cancer but I’m doing OK.’ She cupped my face in her hands. ‘Don’t worry. Staying with Robert and passing on the pen name to you has given me so much hope.’ She hugged me again. ‘I’m really, really happy. I didn’t think I’d recover, but with spring came new possibilities.’ She looked away so I could not see the tears shining in her eyes.

‘It’s wonderful you’re feeling better.’ I swallowed a sob.

‘I’ll be OK. You’re not getting rid of me, not yet. Tell me, why did they assume I was dead?’

‘They found your stuff abandoned on the boat. You must’ve been on there.’

‘Let me try to remember.’ Screwing up her face and placing her hands at the side of her head, she appeared to be forcing herself to relive events. ‘Yes. I was on the boat as a tourist, collecting conversations for a story before we went away to the retreat. I stepped off at one stop when I noticed pickpockets about to move in on an unsuspecting young tourist. It’s easy to miss the edge in Paris when absorbed in the beauty. The boat departed without me. I had coffee and wandered all the way back home, but I left my bag on there and forgot about it. I went to Robert’s house in the country that night so I could disconnect from the world and recover. She sat down. ‘And eventually I just knew my number wasn’t up, quite yet. Here in France, I connected with my youth and found new energy.’ She held my gaze with her sparkling eyes and when she moved her hands to talk, her long sleeves wafted around.

Aunt Ada was there in front of me and it filled me with joy, but I was leaving the next day. ‘When’re you coming home? I’ve been making some changes. There’s more to be done but …’

‘I’m home. Tanglewood Cottage is yours. My future is here in Paris with Robert.’

‘Does Dad know?’

‘Not yet. I called straight away but your mum answered. She said he’d been ill and she would talk to him. I’m phoning back in about an hour.’ She placed her hand on her chest and struggled to breathe. ‘Can we change the subject for now? Tell me what changes you’ve made to the cottage. What’ve you been up to? Tell me stories to cheer me up.’

‘I’ve been painting the cottage and set up a book barrow where people can buy unwanted books. I’m using the money for now but will pay it back when I get my job and donate it to charity.’

‘What a great idea. I hope Nora and Camellia didn’t get their hands on the Bella Mysteries. They’re naughty but nice, those two.’

‘I nearly sold the Bella Mysteries to Felix, but I googled the books and realised they were worth money. He saved me from myself.’

‘I love Felix.’ She glanced at Robert. ‘We need to tell him about us. I’m not sure how he will feel about me here in his maman’s apartment.’

‘He seems to be a man of the world.’ Heat rose in my neck when I remembered the misunderstandings. ‘He was patient when I thought he was a murderer.’ I spoke slowly, placing emphasis on the last word.

‘What?

‘Amelia poisoned his dog by mistake, and I saw Felix moving the body wrapped in a throw.’

‘It was my fault for writing murderer on Felix’s photo, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, and a knife went missing when he’d been making breakfast, and I assumed the worst.’ I sat in my favourite armchair, allowing myself to relax.

Aunt Ada put her hands over her mouth and laughed. ‘Oh no! I used the photo of Felix because I thought he’d make a great character in a mystery novel. I left it there for you as a prompt. Silly of me.’

‘Well, I didn’t know if I could trust Felix for a while. And he’s so charming that it’s difficult to know if he’s sincere.’ Realising Felix’s father was in the room, I wanted to cover my mouth.

Aunt Ada’s eyes widened as she took in the information, and I wondered if she was spinning another story. ‘Life is often better than fiction.’ Silent for a few seconds, she observed me. ‘You’re thriving in Heatherbridge, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, Heatherbridge is great.’

‘And you found the clues I left for you?’

‘Yes, I did. Grant thinks it has made my imagination go wild and also my dress sense. I can’t wait to tell Grant I wasn’t going crazy, and you’d been training me to become a sleuth.’

The smile on Aunt Ada’s face vanished. ‘No. You can’t tell anyone, only your parents at this stage. That’s a condition of this gift. Secrecy is key to Bella’s success, and good writing - of course.’

Robert handed me a glass of champagne.

‘Writing a full novel scares me.’ I visualised myself locked in the potting shed with writer’s block. I did not really have any ideas so far and had simply elaborated on the clues she had presented for me. Sipping more champagne, I tasted a zingy freshness. ‘What if I can’t write it? I’ve no real ideas about the plot.’

‘I believe in you. Begin with the files I left in the potting shed.’

I laughed. ‘It’s your plotting shed, not a potting shed, isn’t it? I love it. But I think Nora and Camellia have found out about it. What should I do?’

‘Have they? They must’ve been snooping in my absence. Be careful of those ladies because they pursue the trophy for the Short Story Bash with venom. They’re probably hoping to find my story and bag the prize.’

‘They also suspect you’re still alive. I think they’ve been sleuthing.’

‘We need to get them off the scent.’ Now she rubbed her hands. ‘I can’t wait.’

I surrendered my glass to the last drop of champagne from the bottle. My aunt was alive, and I had the chance to be an author but needed to balance it with my new job. My stomach fizzed with excitement and champagne.

*

Edith Piaf music sauntered into the summer’s night as I waited for my aunt to call Dad. She decided to speak to him alone and went upstairs to the studio. At first, I could hear her footsteps above me, but they stopped and I heard her distinctive laughter. My muscles relaxed, I closed my eyes and imagined Dad’s shock and elation. I had seen her, and Dad had to rely on the reassurance of her voice. It had been the strangest couple of days, but I had a feeling this was a taste of my life now. Emotions collided and I was exhausted. The familiar sound of my aunt’s voice and memories of the time with Danny made me smile.

Aunt Ada wagged her finger at me. ‘Right! I told your dad.’ Her eyes were bloodshot and face blotchy from crying. ‘Let’s celebrate this evening together. We’ve ordered some divine food from Chez Sylvie. I’m not going to worry about the fact you’ve only got hours left in Paris, we’re going to enjoy every single moment. You won’t be going to bed tonight. I’m going to mix you some great cocktails because it’s about time I took you to my other world. I mix a mean cocktail called Staying Alive. I make it with a very good coffee liqueur, brandy, champagne and a blast of espresso. But that’s for later on.’ She walked over to the oak drinks cabinet in the salon and began to search for some bottles. She hummed something out of tune as she worked.

The thought of writing a whole book rested heavy on my mind. ‘Aunt Ada, would you read my book when it’s finished?’

Glancing up she said, ‘Absolutely not. I’m biased and want to love it. No! I’m too close to you to give an objective opinion. It has to be Felix. He’s read every Bella Mystery and will give you great advice with the structural edits. He’ll be the best. It’s better to hear harsh words from Felix and, believe me, you will have to learn to live with criticism. And you’ll have to be prepared for rejection. I’ve passed on your name to my agent but you’ll have to earn representation.’ She gave me a pink cocktail in a long glass. ‘This is to cleanse the palate.’ She removed the cardboard lids from the foil containers. ‘The food is very simple. We have snails, coq au vin and then Illes flottantes to finish.’ She sniffed the large container and inhaled. ‘The garlic. How I love garlic.’

We ate outside on the balcony and Robert served us. Though Aunt Ada mixed the cocktails, she only drank water. After the initial shock of eating snails, I found them delicious if I didn’t chew or think about the beasts marching through my flowerbeds. Aunt Ada and Robert never took their eyes off each other and entwined their fingers as they sat listening and chatting. Both asked me about the book barrow and requested me to email the photos. Robert loved a photo of me wearing the floral dress and wellies. I did not understand their interest but emailed the photos from my phone instantly.

I stretched my arms in the air and blinked just to check I was not dreaming. ‘I wish I could stay longer,’ I complained.

‘We’ll meet again before you start your job. I promise. Dear Bella, you’ve got a book to write. All we have is the title page and a couple of clues. Your characters aren’t happy and need your care and full attention.’

Bella. I had to get accustomed to this new name. ‘OK. I’ll try my best but it’s difficult.’ Sipping a fruity red wine and relaxing into the chair, I watched my aunt so full of joy. I thought of her driving off alone in the campervan without knowing if she would ever return. ‘Aunt Ada, I’m so pleased you found your happy ending.’

‘I’m so lucky in love, unlike poor Claudette.’ Aunt Ada was serious again and turning something over in her mind.

‘What will happen to Claudette?’ I asked, before popping the last snail in my mouth as if I had eaten them all my life.

Aunt Ada sipped some coffee. ‘I’m going to tell the police to drop any charges if Claudette gets rid of her partner, Luc. He pushed her into the plan.’

‘They kidnapped you and Claudette went along with it. She is also guilty.’

‘I know, but I could tell she had a heavy heart when locking me in the attic, and she was nice to me when Luc wasn’t there. She cooked me the most delicious food.’

Thinking of Claudette almost pushing me down the steps, I tried to understand my aunt’s perspective. ‘I know you always want to see the best in people. But she kidnapped you.’

‘She’s clever, creative and needs to believe in herself. I want her to have a chance because I have a good feeling about her future.’

There was no point in trying to argue, but I was not sure the police would agree. ‘What was this Luc hoping to achieve by kidnapping you?’

‘Luc was going to try and blackmail Robert for money not to reveal my identity.’ She wafted her hands in the air and excitement gleamed in her eyes. ‘Claudette was blinded by love, and I understand that.’ Ada kissed Robert, straightened her silk top and stepped forward.

‘How did they find out about Bella?’

‘Claudette caught sight of me editing an old manuscript to adapt it for the film version, so when we took the photos of her for the blog, she put two and two together. I was so pleased with myself for never ever admitting who I was, and I knew I had already passed on the pen name to you. I didn’t follow my own rule of never missing a detail. I printed off my manuscript for one last check and it disappeared for a day. I blamed it on my memory again but saw a copy of it on the couch in her flat. When you’re writing, don’t leave the manuscript lying around. And you need to send Nora and Camellia off on another trail, away from Bella when you get back.’