Page 27 of The Magic of Provence (A Year in France #3)

‘They’re going to send him home soon,’ she said.

‘In a day or two, perhaps. It might make it easier to meet him somewhere that’s…

neutral ground? Where there are no ghosts of the past and no connection to the future if you decide that you don’t want to see him again?

Because you don’t have to see him again, any of you, if you don’t want to.

But you won’t really know what you want unless you do see him at least once. ’

Fiona was the first to speak. ‘I’ll go,’ she said. ‘I want to see him.’

Laura glared at her. ‘ Why ?’

‘Because he’s our father. Because what happened wasn’t his fault. He was sick and that was something he couldn’t control. And… and I think that people deserve a second chance. A new beginning.’

It looked as if she might be about to cry, Jeannie thought.

‘Everyone is worthy of being loved,’ she added, her words ending with a shaky intake of breath. ‘And that starts with your family, doesn’t it? And your friends.’

Ellie was crying. She sniffed and then hugged her sister. ‘You’re right, Fi. And I want to come with you. I want to see him, too.’

Laura was looking at the old beams in the ceiling, as though she was halfway through rolling her eyes.

‘ Grand ,’ she muttered. It sounded as if the word came out from between gritted teeth. ‘I’ll suppose I’ll have to come as well, then.’

* * *

Maybe this had been a mistake.

You could cut the atmosphere in this small hospital room with a knife.

Laura, Fiona and Eleanor were standing against the wall.

If they’d stretched an arm out, they could have touched the end of the bed that Gordon Gilchrist was sitting up in.

Final tests were being done today so that he could be discharged, and he’d just come back from having an MRI scan of his brain.

He looked tired and he was wearing a hospital gown that made him look so vulnerable.

Facing the jury of his daughters was making him look…

…unbearably sad.

Jeannie had ushered the sisters into the room and introduced them. They were all staring at their father but nobody was saying anything.

In the end, it was Gordon who broke that horrible silence. His gaze was fixed on Laura, and Jeannie could see the moment he recognised her. She could feel him reaching towards his firstborn child even though he hadn’t moved a muscle.

‘ Lulu ,’ he said. His lips trembled and then began to form a smile. ‘Lulu,’ he said again.

Laura’s face crumpled as she struggled not to burst into tears. The sisters leaned closer to each other.

‘Fiona.’ Gordon let his gaze rest on her face for the longest moment. ‘I’d forgotten,’ he said quietly, ‘how beautiful your mother was when I first met her. But now I remember because you look so much like her.’

He was speaking in English. His voice was soft but his Scottish accent was as strong as it had always been.

‘Eleanor,’ he said, as he shifted his gaze. ‘Wee Ellie… Your mam tells me that you’re the one who has my painting.’

Ellie nodded. ‘It’s in the cottage,’ she said. ‘La Maisonette. The house your brother owned.’

‘I’ve never been there,’ Gordon said. ‘Did I have a brother?’

‘Jeremy,’ Jeannie put in. ‘He was a little older than you. You hadn’t seen him for years before you lost your memory, so it will be hard to remember him. He’s dead now. His house went to our girls because they couldn’t find any other living relatives.’

Our girls…

Jeannie didn’t dare look at her daughters.

‘It was the painting that led us to you,’ she said. ‘I knew there was something that felt familiar about it and then I found some sketches you’d done before… before you got sick.’

‘I wanted to tell you how much I loved that painting,’ Ellie said softly.

‘That night in the market. But I couldn’t speak French well enough then.

Julien told me how to say I really liked it but what I really wanted to say was that it was pulling me in.

I wanted to walk into it and touch the stones of that ruined building and feel the sunshine on my skin. ’

‘So did I,’ Fi said. ‘When I just arrived in France and I was tired and sad and I wanted to be in that place so much. I wanted to be walking in the grass with bare feet and picking flowers and… and it made me feel happy.’

‘Thank you.’ Gordon’s voice was a whisper. ‘That’s how I felt when I painted it.’

‘Ellie’s an artist, too,’ Laura said, her tone even sharper by contrast to her father’s. ‘She’s very talented.’

Gordon closed his eyes in long blink but he had a faint smile on his lips. In some part of him, did he remember that Laura could become prickly when she was overwhelmed or afraid of something? Or had this simply become too much for him to cope with now?

‘I think that might be enough for a first visit,’ Jeannie said. ‘Your dad’s very tired after all the tests.’

Ellie was the last to say goodbye and then she turned back before she slipped through the door.

‘I’d like to see some more of your work,’ she said. ‘Can I come and visit your studio one day?’

‘Yes.’

Gordon’s response was no more than that single word, but Jeannie found herself close to tears as she followed Ellie from the room.

It had begun.

A way forward.

She walked with her daughters until they reached the main doors to the hospital.

‘Are you coming with us?’ Ellie asked.

‘Not just yet,’ Jeannie said. ‘There’s something I need to talk to Gordon about before I come home. We don’t know if he’ll be allowed to go home even if the test results are all okay.’

‘Why not?’ Fi looked anxious.

‘Because he has no one to care for him.’

They were all silent. All looking at her. Ellie’s eyes were soft, as if she knew what Jeannie was going to say next.

‘I need to tell him that he does,’ Jeannie said.

‘He has a family again and… and I’m going to take care of him if he will let me.

I can go and see him every day – it’s not that far to drive.

’ She smiled. ‘And I’m here if you want to talk to me about anything, but I think you girls need some time without me watching you to get used to this.

Believe me, I know how big this is. I’m still trying to get used to it myself. ’

As she had when she’d first suggested taking this step of seeing their father again, she looked at each one of her daughters in turn. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked. ‘Did it help to see him?’

This time the response was far less divided.

Aye. They were okay. Or would be. They needed some time to process what had been such an intensely emotional occasion and to absorb its implications. Tears would, no doubt, be shed and Jeannie suspected that Laura had more bottled up than either of her sisters.

In the meantime, what they all needed was a family hug.