Page 59 of The Little Provence Book Shop

Lili was finally asleep and, barely daring to breathe, Adeline stood and made her way out of her little girl’s bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. She felt a flood of tiredness as her body finally acknowledged that she was exhausted – and still aching a little from her fall earlier.

Thinking of the fall made her think of André. The softness of his lips on hers. How, suddenly, he’d gone from being a virtual stranger to someone quite different. He’d pulled back. ‘Do you think Monique has got the message?’ he’d asked.

So it had all been for Monique. ‘Yes, I think so,’ she’d said, suddenly shy. ‘Thank you.’

‘And have you?’ he’d added, his tone slightly faltering.

‘What do you mean?’

He had stepped back slightly, his eyes glancing at her face then over her shoulder, avoiding eye contact. ‘I like you, Adeline,’ he had said.

She touched her lips now, feeling a mixture of pleasure and anxiety. He’d asked for her number and had already sent a message asking her out for a drink that week. And she’d foundthat although she was checking her phone for messages from Sophia, she was also now hoping to see messages from André too. She couldn’t seem to help it.

She’d resolved not to get involved with anyone. Not to complicate her life when the pieces it had fractured into weren’t yet set into place. But when his name flashed up on her phone, her reason seemed to go out of the window.

Downstairs in the living room, she sank into the chair and picked up her notebook from a side table. Using the Emily Dickinson book as a rest, and feeling slightly guilty about it, she turned over a new leaf and began to make a list.

Things I’ve lost:

Connection with friends – especially Chris

Sense of purpose?

Sense of home/family

She chewed the end of her pen thoughtfully, thinking of the things that had fallen away from her life in recent months – friends, colleagues, even her sense of what she wanted, where she wanted to be…

Her relationship with Kevin had been damaged over the last year: they’d stopped joking, stopped talking about trivialities and instead spoken almost exclusively about Mum’s care, the finances, how they would split their time; then the will and funeral arrangements.

Their argument and Adeline’s subsequent escape to France had severed their bond completely for a while. Now, it was time to rebuild. Try to find the kind of playful, supportive relationship they’d had before. Something both old and brand new.

Before finding the papers, she’d had a sense of where shebelonged; she’d grown up in London and had lived there all her life. But finding her true birth certificate had thrown even that into question. She’d raced to France, convinced she was getting in touch with a piece of herself, but looking back, she’d been running away.

Michel was right; it had been a devastating time, but she could see that there were opportunities on the horizon too. To find a home that was right for her and Lili, to reconnect perhaps with her birth mother. To make new friends and rediscover old ones.

The sudden trill of her mobile phone sent her pen scuttering across the pad. She reached into her handbag and brought it out, convinced for a moment that it must be her birth mother – although of course she hadn’t given out her number. Instead, the screen read ‘Monique.’

‘Hello?’ she said, answering.

‘Hello, Adeline. I’m sorry to call you in the evening.’

‘It’s OK. How can I help?’

There was a silence for a moment, the sound of breathing. Adeline realised suddenly that Monique was crying.

‘Are you OK?’ she asked.

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