Page 11 of Falling for Provence

‘Thisisyour property, then.Yourfence. Your fence on the other side, too, where it joins my property, and that is in the same state of shameful repair.’

Oh, help… this wasn’t the best way to be meeting her first neighbour, was it? Ellie could understand why he might be so angry.

‘I’m sorry… I didn’t know.’

‘Donc… now you do.’

He turned away again and kept going, but Ellie was still processing what he’d said and she could feel a new, sinking sensation in her stomach.

‘Excuse me,’ she called.

He either didn’t hear or was choosing to ignore her, but she had to try again.

‘The donkeys,’ she shouted. ‘They’re yours, yes?’

He still didn’t pause, but she could hear his response floating back through the olive trees.

‘Of course not. They are also yours.’ The hand that appeared in the air gave a very Gallic gesture of exasperation. ‘Now you can finally start taking care of them yourself.J’en ai marre.’

He vanished into the lengthening shadows on the far side of the olive grove.

Very slowly, Ellie shifted her gaze to something closer.

Disconcertingly close now. As if underlining the information that had just been delivered, the donkeys had moved closer while she’d been watching the man and child retreat. They were almost within touching distance on the other side of thatinadequate fence. Standing very still again, as if they were all in the middle of a game of Fairy Footsteps, a game she remembered from her primary school playground that involved sneaking up behind the back of whoever was ‘in’ and trying not to get caught moving as that person turned around. They were staring at her, their ears pricked forwards.

It had to be her imagination, but Ellie had the distinct impression that they were both amused by her new predicament. Smiling, even.

The potential malevolence of smirking donkeys, along with the echoes of that angry male voice, followed Ellie back into the house, but the ache in her chest that was making it difficult to breathe was due to the muscle memory of holding that small boy in her arms, and she was afraid that that ache was going to escalate into the kind of pain she’d actually hoped was becoming part of the past.

But there were other things to worry about now.

Like what she was supposed to do about the two wild donkeys that had apparently come with this house.

And the fact that it was dark. What did those bats do once night fell? Wake up and fly around the house? Bite people and give them rabies?

Ellie’s first instinct was to call her mother. Or one of her sisters. She picked up her phone, but her fingers fumbled the swipe and the screen remained blank. She still felt shaky, she realised. And if she heard a comforting voice, she would probably burst into tears, and she could just imagine the flurry of calls or texts that would ping between members of her family after that. If Fi hadn’t already been informed of developments,she’d be dragged into the situation now, and Ellie could almost hear snatches of the conversations.

I knew she wouldn’t be able to cope.

It’s hardly a surprise, is it? She’s barely been coping for months and now she’s alone in a foreign country.

Who would have thought there’d be a wee bairn next door, though? Poor Ellie… that’s just cruel.

But what are we going to do?

I suppose I’ll have to organise a ticket for her to get home. Oh… I wonder if I can get a refund on that bike?

I really thought that this might be the answer…

Well, it isn’t, is it? Look at the mess she’s in already. She’s too scared to even go upstairs because of the cot and the bats and now she’s had a stooshie with a neighbour.

What’s the big deal with a couple of donkeys, anyway? If she wasn’t so pathetic, she’d pull herself together and get on with it.

Don’t be so mean. She can’t help it…

Ellie scowled at her phone and then dropped it onto the kitchen bench beside the half empty bottle of rosé. Maybe shewaspathetic, but she didn’t need people talking about it behind her back. Even imaginary conversations. She didn’t want her mother lying awake tonight and fretting about her, either. She’d probably talk to one of the doctors at the medical centre she worked in about getting her an appointment with someone who could dish out antidepressants.

She didn’t want to go home with a cloud of failure hanging over her.

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