Page 49 of Falling for Provence

‘Thanks, but it’s already organised.’

‘But you don’t need to go to the expense of renting a car this time.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Taxis are even more expensive.’

‘I’m not renting a car or getting a taxi.’ Laura’s increasingly impatient tone was a warning that Ellie was getting out of line. And then she visibly sucked in a breath and broke eye contact. ‘Noah’s picking me up, okay?’

‘Noah? The estate agent?’ Ellie was blinking in astonishment now. ‘You’re not going on the back of his motorbike, are you?’

‘What if I am?’

‘What about your suitcase?’

‘I’m only coming for a couple of days. I could put my toothbrush and some clean knickers in my handbag if I need to.’

Ellie was silent now. Laura had never done anything remotely impetuous in her life, let alone something as wild as putting a pair of knickers in her handbag and climbing on the back of what she remembered being a rather large and powerful motorbike.

‘Oh…’ It was Laura who broke the stunned silence. ‘I meant to tell you – don’t worry about dinner for me that night. Noah’s taking me to some posh restaurant that he thinks I should see. He says it’s famous enough to be worth mentioning in the advertising blurb for the house.’

‘He’s taking you out to dinner? Have you been online dating without telling me?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Laura’s laugh sounded perfectly genuine, and she had no hesitation in rollinghereyes. She even tossed in a shake of her head, making her silky, straight bob shimmer as it brushed her shoulders. ‘Even if I was desperate enough to do something like online dating, do you really think I’d ever be remotely interested in someone like Noah Dufour?’

Ellie echoed her laughter. ‘Not in a million years,’ she agreed.

‘He’s being helpful, that’s all. And the sooner we get it all sorted and the house sold, the better, yes?’

‘Mmm…’ Ellie tried to sound enthusiastic, but it was too difficult.

She wasn’t ready to leave yet. The weather was glorious. The limoncello wasn’t ready to drink, and she’d thought of half a dozen more things that she could be doing to the little house and garden to make it even more appealing. She hadn’t given any thought to what arrangements might be necessary to take Pascal back to Scotland with her, and… and what about Julien…?

She was nowhere near ready to leave him yet.

But she turned her half-hearted agreement into a bright smile.

‘Wait till you see how it’s looking,’ she told Laura. ‘There’s a reason I haven’t been sending you any photos lately. I want it to be a surprise.’

The biggest surprise of all was that she wanted to spare Laura the task of dealing with the second bedroom. Because she wanted her sister to know that she had found the courage to do it herself. Not just to thank her for her support – and the push – she had given Ellie, as well as the inspired gift of the wonderful red bicycle, but to show her that being herehadbeen exactly what she’d needed. That she was healing. That it felt like she was really starting to live again. And, for that, she would owe her big sister a debt of gratitude for ever.

But time had almost run out. She would be arriving in only a couple of days.

So Ellie didn’t give herself time to even remind herself of the get-out-of-jail-free card Laura had offered by saying she wouldsort that room. As soon as she ended the call with her sister, she walked straight up the stairs to open the door.

With her knuckles white from the strength in her determined grip, Ellie twisted the brass doorknob and almost flung the door of that room open – as if she was about to confront an intruder.

But had merely opening the door drained the reserves of her courage?

Ellie had taken only a single step into the room before she stopped. She could feel the thump of her heart against her ribs, and her throat was tight. Too tight to release the air in her lungs. She knew the cot was there, of course, but if she stared straight ahead at the newly replaced pane of glass in the window, the baby’s bed was only a pale blur in her peripheral vision, so it was possible to ignore. Then she looked down at the mess the glazier had left on the floor, which included some shards of the old glass amongst a scattering of bat droppings.

Sharp, dangerous shards, which Pascal was heading straight towards.

‘Ohno…’ Ellie stepped forwards to scoop a surprised little dog up into her arms. ‘You can’t walk there,’ she told him. ‘You’ll cut your paws. And those bat droppings might be poisonous, for all I know. That’s the first thing we need to clean up, isn’t it? Let’s go downstairs and find our dustpan and broom. And you’ll have to stay down there until it’s safe.’ She held Pascal close, resting her cheek against his head, more grateful than ever for the warmth of the little creature who was sharing so much of her life. ‘D’accord?’

It was easier to walk into the room the second time, but Ellie still avoided looking directly at the cot by keeping her gaze down. There was an old rag rug in the middle of the floor. Handmade, with braided strips of fabric carefully stitched into an oval shape with scalloped edges like a big flower, and another flower, with petals, in its centre. It was so dirty that it was hard to see whatthe original colours might have been, and Ellie might have been tempted to throw it away except… except that the flower in the centre of the rug reminded her of the stone mosaics in the paths of St Paul de Vence.

The flowers that had been the reason she’d stayed here in the first place.

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