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‘Hello, Mum!’ she said brightly, newly ensconced in her room after her humiliating rendezvous with the mayor. ‘How are you?’

‘Why is the line crackling, Rebecca? Where are you?’ Her mum’s instincts were wasted in her job; she should have become a detective inspector.

‘I’m… well, I’m – look, don’t get mad.’

This was a red rag to a bull moment. ‘Mad! Piffle! I’ll have whatever emotions I choose, young lady. And I’m assuming by your reluctance to tell me that you’ve gone to France. Am I right?’

‘Well, yes, but?—’

Her next words were drowned out by a breathy snort. ‘Oh, Rebecca! That’s the last thing you need.’

‘I’m sorry. I just… well, I think it’s the best thing, Mum. I want to sort this ridiculous legal business out and it’s always easier to do things in person, don’t you think?’

‘Hmm,’ her mother said. And the one syllable expression said more than a thousand words could have. Mother wasn’t pleased.

‘Well,’ Becky stuttered slightly, then regained herself.

She was a fully grown woman, and while her mum was a forbidding character, they did still love each other.

Mum wanted what was best, that was all – she was just worried.

‘I’ve already had a meeting with the maire about the legality of the… situation.’

This seemed to perk her mum up a little. ‘Oh really?’ she said. ‘Well, I’m impressed. And was it productive?’

‘Um. He certainly seemed sympathetic.’

‘Good. Well, that’s a start. And when are you home?’

Becky scrunched up her face. ‘Um, not sure yet,’ she said.

‘Well, don’t hang about too long. Best to be in the thick of it. Relaxing is overrated,’ her mum said.

‘Sorry, what?’

‘Relaxing. People seem obsessed with it these days. But really, how does one get anything done?’

‘Mum, it’s OK to relax a bit sometimes.’

‘Yes, of course! At a class, or coffee with a friend. But that place…’ Mum paused, selecting the right words. ‘Mark my words: it gets into your blood if you’re not careful. It did for Maud, and I’d hate you to go the same way.’

‘Mum, I am not going to go the same way, whatever way that is. I’m getting out of here as soon as I can.’

‘Good. Good.’

The relief over the phone was palpable, but confusing. Why did her mum so desperately want her to leave? It wasn’t that she could get back to work; and Maud was no longer here to influence her.

‘Is that why you fell out?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Is that why you argued with Maud all those years ago? You thought she was… relaxing too much?’

‘Of course not! Live and let live. It was the effect she was having on you. And your father, actually. You seemed… different when we were there. And she filled your heads with all sorts of thoughts about education. You told me that “school wasn’t everything” and being happy was more important than being clever.

Which is all very well for people who aren’t clever to say.

But you? You were bright as a button – still are.

And I didn’t want you to waste all that potential. ’

‘You fell out over me?’

‘Not solely. If I’m honest, the rift happened years before.

When she left. Of course we made our peace, but things weren’t perfect after that.

There was always… hurt. Then we rowed over some of the things she was filling your mind with, and other things came out…

you know how it is. Daddy and I cancelled our trip the following year and I suppose…

well, after a while it was just easier not to stay in touch. ’

‘Poor Maud.’

‘Poor Maud indeed. She could have ruined your life, Becky. You’d always been such a motivated girl.

Daddy was a bit more forgiving, wanted to make more of an effort with her.

Always such a softie, that man. And perhaps if he hadn’t…

if he were still around, things might have been different.

’ Her mum’s voice faltered a little. ‘Your poor father,’ she added, her tone more subdued.

‘Oh.’ The mention of her father brought to mind, as it always did, a vision of the last time she’d seen him. His gentle eyes, the smile. The way he’d wrapped his arms around her when she got home from school; had always had time to hear her prattle on about this and that. Poor Dad.

‘Anyway, after Daddy died, things were very difficult for us financially. Precarious even. I never mentioned it, of course, you were so young. The life insurance didn’t pay out on a technicality and…

we almost lost the house. But it worked out for the best in the end.

’ Cynthia’s voice returned to her normal, direct tone.

‘I was driven to push harder, work more. And look where I am today.’

‘You did great, Mum.’

‘Yes. I did. And it taught me something too. How important it is to be secure – financially. And secure in oneself. The ability to be independent, make money, stand on your own two feet. Especially as a woman. It’s the best protection we have.’

Becky leaned against the wall, feeling the uneven texture of the paper against her head. ‘Protection against…?’

‘Life. Men. Whatever either of those throws at us.’

Becky laughed. ‘Oh Mum. But you’re OK, aren’t you? We both are.’

‘Of course. And I couldn’t be more proud of you, darling.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Except for this silly burnout nonsense, but I’m sure that will all be resolved soon.’

‘Yes.’

There was a pause.

‘Do try to get back soon, Rebecca, won’t you?’

‘I will.’

‘And… stay in touch. I know I can be a bit… pushy. But I only want what’s best.’

‘I know you do, Mum.’

Ending the call, Becky lay back on her bed and sighed.

She often felt exhausted after conversing with her mother – always adapting what she was saying to keep things on an even keel, trying to balance truth-telling with the likely impact of her words.

She’d somehow managed to give her mum the impression she was going to sort things out from a legal perspective and that she’d be home soon, when in reality that seemed further than ever from the truth.

As she often did in these situations, she dialled Amber. The first call went to voicemail but on the second, Amber answered almost immediately. ‘Sorry,’ she said, her voice hushed. ‘Had to pop to the loo to take the call.’

‘Seriously? You’re sitting on the lav?’

‘Yes. I’m not peeing or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about! Just, new rule. No personal calls at work. Apparently, productivity is down.’

‘Blimey.’

‘Yeah. I told you about Rufus. The new manager guy? Ruthless more like.’

Becky laughed. ‘Sounds like a right jobsworth.’

‘You have no idea. Anyway, can I help? I’ll need to be quick.’ Amber’s voice sounded unusually on edge.

‘Just mother issues. And French café issues. The usual.’ She quickly offered her friend a condensed version of the last twenty-four hours. The trip to the maire ’s office, the call with her mother. ‘Now I’m back to square one!’ she said. ‘I’ve no idea what I’m going to do!’

‘No offense, but we talked about this last night. You know what I think. And I’m at work. It’s difficult?—’

‘Sorry. I know. I just thought?—’

Amber sighed, her tone softening. ‘Look, I know you’re dithering. But like I said last night, the way I see it, you only have two options. You can cut and run, come home and just be a little patient about things. Cancel the flat reservation. There will be other flats.’

‘OK.’

‘Or, you can stay and jump through these hoops your aunt has set for you. You have the time – and that’s not likely to happen again.

And what are you going to do if not? At least you won’t be bouncing around the flat, stressing out, thinking about work…

worrying. It just seems obvious to me. Get on with it and get it done. You’ll feel better.’

‘You know me too well,’ Becky said, imagining how she might spend her days if she did return to London – the free time stretching away in all directions. She shivered. Too much time to think about what she’d got wrong.

‘And, if you need more incentive to stay, I was thinking last night that maybe you could, well… work your magic while you’re there.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, you’re in advertising, right? So you know a bit about selling. You’ve already told me that the café isn’t being run to its full potential. Maybe the month won’t be a complete waste. Maybe if you modernise it a bit, build the business, make it look… snazzy.’

‘Snazzy? Have you been talking to my mum?’

Amber laughed. ‘OK, modern – is that better? Make it look great. Increase the value, increase the chance of it selling. Stay, but on your own terms.’

Becky was silent for a moment. ‘You make it sound so… logical.’

‘Well, I am an accountant.’

‘True.’

‘So?’

‘I guess I could try,’ she said. ‘I like the idea of… adding value.’

‘I thought you would.’

‘It was just being forced to…’

‘I know. Classic Becky!’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You hate being told what to do. Always have.’

‘No! I… OK, well, maybe.’

‘It’s not a criticism. You like to do things your way. I get that. And with your mum being so…’

‘Pushy?’

‘I was going to say forceful. Well, I get that you have enough… let’s say direction in your life.’

‘Exactly. I don’t need to be pushed around by great-aunts from beyond the grave.’ Becky felt a frisson of guilt in describing her aunt that way. Poor Maud.

‘But nobody is pushing you, in reality. You have choices. And you know what, they’re not too bad. You could be stuck in a job you don’t like very much because you can’t afford your rent without it.’ Something cracked a little in Amber’s final words.

‘Oh. You don’t mean you, do you?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘I thought you liked your job?’

‘It’s changed a bit, is all. I still like numbers.’

‘Well! Who doesn’t! They’re just so… so… numerical!’

‘I just prefer it when my boss doesn’t stalk around the office like he owns us outright, rather than just forty hours of our weekdays. And when I don’t have to hide in the loo to avoid another dressing down.’

‘A dressing down? What happened?’

There was a pause. ‘I’ll tell you later,’ Amber said. ‘Honestly, I’d better go. People will get suspicious if I spend any more time in the loo.’

‘OK. Well don’t let the bastards grind you down.’

‘I won’t.’

‘And Amber?’

‘Yes?’

‘You still complete me.’

Amber laughed. ‘I know.’

Quoting from the movies they loved had become their thing. An outsider might find it odd, but saying they completed each other had become their way of saying ‘I love you.’

Amber really was her missing piece, the person without whom she wouldn’t be complete, thought Becky.

Without Amber at her side, she’d have struggled at times over the last few years.

Or the last couple of decades in fact. Amber with her sage advice, her sense of fun.

The way she could look through the complex arguments given by Becky’s mother and extract the important bits on her behalf, when she got overwhelmed.

When Dad had had his heart attack, it was Amber who’d come and looked after them both. Staying overnight, making cups of tea. Just being there. She was the sister that Becky had never had. And the soft-sided relative that her mum had never been.

She hoped she’d been the same for Amber over the years. Amber’s mum was anxious, not always easy to confide in. So Becky had tried to be there when Amber’s mum couldn’t.

‘Couldn’t do it without you,’ she whispered into the ether.

Then, ‘Right!’ she said, stepping into her work persona.

She walked over to the mirror and corrected her hair, neatening up her blonde ponytail, checked her teeth and nodded.

She marched back down to the café and proprietorially made her way to the kitchen at the back.

Pascal was there, a jug of milk in his hand. Their eyes met.

‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’ve decided to stay for a while after all. There are quite a few inefficiencies here that I’d like to iron out. And a few improvements I’d like to make.’

‘So you are fulfilling Maud’s wishes!’ he said, seemingly only hearing the highlights.

‘No,’ Becky said. ‘I’m fulfilling my wishes. Getting this place shipshape for sale. And if that helps move things along for you as well, then so be it.’

‘Oh, of course,’ Pascal said, with a cheeky wink. ‘Of course, these are your wishes.’

‘No! Seriously! My wishes!’

‘Yes. I understand .’ He gave her an even more generous wink.

‘Pascal! I’m here because I want to be. No other reason,’ she said.

‘Of course ! Why would anyone suggest otherwise?’

And then, just when she was about to explain again – more forcefully this time – her eyelid decided to do the talking for her, with a quick trembling wink.

Pascal touched a finger to his nose. ‘Your secret is safe with me,’ he said. ‘I understand completely.’

He didn’t. But she was too exhausted with trying to explain. ‘Good,’ she said. ‘So that’s settled.’