Page 2 of The Magic of Provence (A Year in France #3)

‘Is she still there?’

Ellie Gilchrist stood up from the comfortable armchair where she’d been sitting to feed her baby and shifted her daughter onto her shoulder so that she could rub her back.

From the second storey of her home, she could easily see into the olive grove that lay between this house and the little stone cottage next door.

La Maisonette.

Her whisper felt like she was passing on secret information as she leaned towards where she had left her phone on speaker, perched on the arm of the chair.

‘Aye.’

‘What’s she doing?’

‘Nothing. She hasn’t moved since I first saw her and that was half an hour before I texted you because I had to feed Bonnie.

I didn’t go rushing down, because she doesn’t look upset and, if she’d wanted to talk to us straight away, she would have texted to let us know she was coming, wouldn’t she?

She’s just sitting there. It almost looks like she’s been sitting there all night. ’

‘With the donkeys?’ Laura sounded bewildered.

‘Yes… and…’

‘And what?’

‘Well… it’s the strangest thing. I’ve never seen Marguerite and Coquelicot lying down like that unless they’re totally by themselves.

It’s very cute. They’ve got their front legs tucked in and Fi’s sitting between them, like the meat in a donkey sandwich and…

this is going to sound weird, but they’ve all got exactly the same expression on their faces. ’

The huff of sound from Laura – part fondness, but with a good dollop of exasperation – was so familiar from her childhood that it made Ellie smile.

‘They’re donkeys ,’ her eldest sister said patiently. ‘They don’t have expressions.’

‘Yes, they do. It’s that peaceful look. When they’re super chilled. Makes me think of Bob Marley and that line about getting together and feeling all right.’

Laura’s quiet laughter coincided with a loud burp from the baby in Ellie’s arms. Ellie kissed the soft fluff of her daughter’s hair. ‘There we go. That feels better, doesn’t it, ma poupée . Now we can get you wrapped up and we can go and see what your Auntie Fi is up to.’

She laid Bonnie down and picked up the long length of soft, stretchy fabric draped over the end of the bassinet. With swift, well-practised movements she wrapped it around her waist, criss-crossed it over her shoulders, wrapped and tied it again.

‘She’s such a good baby,’ Laura said. ‘I can’t believe she’s sleeping through the night at three months old. Lili’s only done it a few times and she’s about to celebrate her first birthday.’

Bonnie gave her mother a wide smile as Ellie picked her up to hold her securely against her body, poking the baby’s legs, in turn, under sections of the wrap.

‘Oh…’ Laura sounded suddenly relieved. ‘Do you think that might be why Fi’s turned up out of the blue? To come to the party? This might be supposed to be a surprise.’

‘Hmm…’ Ellie pulled up the initial wide belt she’d created with the shawl to cover Bonnie’s back and support her head. ‘I’m not sure about that. The moment I realised who it was, I felt a shiver run down my spine. And the first thing I thought was, oh my God… what’s happened ?’

‘You need to go and talk to her,’ Laura said, decisively.

‘I’ll come, too. Noah will be more than happy to look after Lili’s breakfast. Or I can wait a bit and bring her with me?

She’s due to wake up any minute. I think she knows when I’ve snuck into the kitchen to try and have a quiet cup of tea before the day gets started. ’

‘It might be better not to rush over,’ Ellie said, slowly.

‘You know what Fi’s like. If you crowd her, she’ll back off.

And if you ask too many questions, she’ll shut up like a clam.

’ She was biting her lip. ‘This feels… important. I think she’s here because she needs us, but it would be too easy to scare her off and it feels like she’s only just tiptoed her way back to being part of the family.

’ She dipped her head so that her lips were brushing Bonnie’s head.

‘I don’t want to mess this up. What I really want to do is go and throw my arms around her and ask a million questions, but something’s telling me to just leave her be a wee bit longer. ’

‘Aye…’ Laura broke the silence that fell.

‘I remember when I spent Christmas Day by myself at La Maisonette, when I was pregnant and nursing my broken heart, and I went and spent time with the donkeys and… and it did make me feel better just being close to them. That maybe everything was going to be all right.’

‘See? You did know about the donkey reggae vibe. You’ll have an earworm now and you’ll be hearing that song in the back of your mind all day.’

But Ellie could hear a sound that made her realise Laura had her baby monitor right beside her as she was enjoying her wake-up cup of tea. That made her smile again. Of course she did. ‘Is that Lili waking up?’

She heard a soft sigh from Laura and then a cup being replaced on a saucer. She could almost feel her sister dismissing any personal preferences and her smile softened. ‘Let me know if you’re coming over later,’ she said. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

‘ If ?’ She could hear Laura moving now and the sound of Lili’s chirrups was getting louder. ‘Don’t you mean when ?’

* * *

The sun had come up enough to be warming the softly scented air around Fi.

The scent of the trees laden with olives was nowhere near strong enough to compete with the musty aroma of two shaggy donkeys, but every now and then she caught a whiff of the lemon trees between the olive grove and the little stone cottage.

She hadn’t used the key for La Maisonette yet.

She’d finally arrived at some ungodly hour in the night after well over thirty hours driving and a channel crossing, spread over four days.

She’d slept in the car for a few hours until a faint bird call announced the approach of dawn, and that was when she’d finally finished her long journey to get to where she’d wanted, so much, to be.

With these two gentle, thoughtful creatures she’d fallen in love with the moment she’d met them, months ago now.

She was pretty sure they loved her back but, even if they didn’t, they weren’t going to ask her any questions she didn’t want to answer or judge her on what she looked like or what she’d done.

They would be happy to simply be with her, and that unconditional acceptance was the only antidote she could imagine to the emotional wound that was still so raw.

Who’d want you…?

Marguerite and Coquelicot, that’s who.

A ribbon of light was only beginning to ripple across the horizon as she’d bypassed the cottage and gone through the garden and the lemon orchard to get to the olive grove, but the donkeys weren’t the least bit bothered by an unusually early visit.

They’d probably woken up as soon as she’d shut the door of her car behind her but they weren’t standing up.

They were lying beneath a tree, like two huge dogs, with both those big heads – that were so out of proportion to their delicate legs and tiny hooves – raised far enough for them to observe Fi slipping quietly through the gate.

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.

It was enough 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’d never cried 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 waiting for .

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.