Page 31 of Falling for Provence

‘You’ve done a great job. I like the stone wall that’s getting exposed, too. I think it’s about time we took some photos and started the advertising campaign.’

‘But there’s still so much to do.’ Ellie found she was fighting a wave of something that felt like alarm. ‘I’ve still got a huge list. I’ve got Mike the plumber who’s said he’ll come back soon with a builder friend to look at all sorts of small jobs like repairing that shutter. I haven’t started on the front garden, and the glazier hasn’t even been yet to put in the new window upstairs. It’s not ready. It might take weeks longer.’ It suddenly struck Ellie that she was nowhere near ready, either. She didn’t want to even think about the house being sold yet. About having to leave. ‘There’s a boundary fence that needs fixing as well.’

The boundary fence between herself and Julien…

Okay, maybe that task would be better left for as long as possible.

‘That’s okay. We’ll just photograph the bits you’ve done. I need a meeting with Noah, anyway. We’re making good progress on the brochure, but there are some things I want to see for myself.’

‘Like what?’

Ellie wasn’t listening properly, however. By shifting her gaze just a fraction, she could see those pots by the fireplace. She knew that crumpled ball of paper was still in one of them, a reminder that she had been irresistibly drawn back to doing something that she loved. Something that was a part of her and not simply a way to make a living.

‘Like the Rosary Chapel in Vence that Matisse considers to be his greatest work,’ Laura said. ‘There’s a mosaic work in thecathedral done by Chagall, and did you know that one of Vence’s claims to fame is that it has the smallest cathedral in France?’

‘No. I didn’t know that.’ Ellie’s feet seemed to be moving without any instructions from her brain, taking her towards that set of pots. She pulled the crumpled ball of paper from the pot and put it on the table so that she could smooth it out.

‘So—’ Laura cleared her throat, signalling a brisk change of subject. ‘There’s a good reason for me to pop over, just for a day or two. I’ll let you know when I’ve scheduled it. There’s a useable spare bed in the house, isn’t there?’

‘Mmm… well, there’s a bed, but it’s very small.’ Ellie could feel a knot of anxiety forming in her belly. She hadn’t been in that room again since she’d slammed the door shut. If Laura wanted to use it, she’d have to force herself to go in there and clean it up properly. ‘The window needs fixing, too,’ she added hurriedly. ‘And there’s just a board there to keep the bats out at the moment. I’ll give Mike a call tomorrow and see if I can speed up the glazier coming.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Do you want me to clear that room out and see if I can buy a bigger bed?’

‘No… don’t do that. It’s a good marketing move to have a room set up for kids.’ But Laura’s hesitation revealed that she understood exactly why it would be hard for Ellie to sort that issue. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ she added, quickly. ‘I’ll sort that room when I come. I can always sleep on the couch,’ she added. ‘Or go back to that little hotel we used in Vence. In fact…’ There was an uncharacteristically dreamy note in Laura’s voice now. ‘I think I might rather like to stay there again.’

Ellie let her breath out slowly. Maybe she should feel hurt that her sister didn’t really want to sleep under the same roof, but she was too grateful that she wasn’t going to have to deal with that room. She could already feel that unpleasant knot beginning to unravel.

‘We do need to get the window fixed, though.’ Laura sounded crisp and organised again. Back to normal. ‘It would be great if you could find the time to have a go at that wilderness of a front garden, as well. I can see a great photo op with your bicycle propped up on the stone wall by the front door – maybe with a bit of the iron gate in the shot too. Just to make it a bit arty, you know?’

‘Aye…’ Ellie was smiling. Not at the thought of contrived ‘artiness’ in a photo, however. She had completely forgotten about the upstairs room because she was looking at her watercolour sketch of the lemon tree branch, with its leaves and fruit, and the carefully crafted words that danced on the paper around it. To her surprise, it didn’t feel threatening any longer. In fact, she liked the way it made her feel. As if there was a tiny piece of her own soul smudged into this crumpled sheet of paper, which was how she’d always known whether what she created was something she could be proud of.

‘Anyway…’ Laura’s tone suggested the conversation was being wound up. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

Ellie was ready to go, too. ‘I’d better get started on everything that needs doing before you arrive. I think I’m going to be a wee bit busy.’

‘Can you manage? It’s not going to be too much, is it?’

‘Au contraire,’ There was satisfaction to be found tossing in a French phrase. ‘I think I’m ready for a bit more of a challenge.’

Because a challenge would mean less time to think about other things.

Like having to leave this place sooner rather than later.

Like handing over Pascal for someone else to look after him for the rest of his life.

Like Julien…

It was proving disturbingly difficult to stop thinking about her.

Julien knew he should apologise. Again. But not for being impolite this time – quite the opposite, in fact. He’d been too… warm? He’d held Ellie in his arms because the urge to comfort her had been overwhelming.

She was far more courageous than he’d given her credit for. When that choking child had recovered consciousness and cried out for her mother, Julien had been aware of a sharp pain in his own chest – as if his heart had cracked wide open, even though he knew perfectly well that that was a medical impossibility. It seemed as if he could share what Ellie had to be feeling in that moment. It made no difference that her own son had not been old enough to start calling herMaman; it was the meaning of the word and the darkness that would always be there for her, having lost something so precious.

It was the word that she’d heard from his own son when she’d been holding him in her arms. And, on top of all the huge emotions that were already there, the word had been a cry of victory for a small girl who had come terrifyingly close to death.

Ellie hadn’t run from facing such a difficult situation. She’d embraced it. She could have coped with it all without any support from anyone else and, if he hadn’t offered her that comfort, she probably wouldn’t have cried in front of anyone. But he couldn’t havenotheld her then. The urge to offer that comfort, the need to protect, had been as powerful as any he ever felt for Theo. Or Theo’s mother.

The people he loved the most.

That said something about the attraction this woman held for him, which made it imperative he didn’t get too close, but what had he done then?

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