Page 60 of The Little Provence Book Shop

‘Everything is fine, but I need you to mind the shop tomorrow. Will that be OK? You have your key.’

‘Of course!’

‘Because I have to take a trip.’ A pause. ‘I have decided to go visit my mother.’

‘Oh my God. Monique! I mean, that’s wonderful,’ she said, hoping this was the right response. ‘Terrifying’ might have been a better word.

‘Oui, it is perhaps. I have called. I spoke to my sister. She was a little cold. But I understand. And my mother, she is quite old now. Almost ninety. A little frail. But she has her mind. It wasonly when I came to call that I wondered whether it might be too late, that I might have lost my chance.’

‘Oh, Monique! What did she say?’

‘Ah, nothing. I did not speak with her. She was in bed. But my sister told me I should come. That she would talk better in person. And I am sure she is right. I cannot wait now that I have decided. So I will take the train to Paris, early. And be back, I hope, by the evening.’

‘That’s fine. Of course. Longer if you need.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I can…’ Adeline began.

‘Pardon?’

‘I can come with you, if you need,’ she offered.

There was a short silence. Then, ‘Non,’ Monique said. ‘But thank you. That is a kind offer.’

‘It’s fine. Just take care, OK?’

The next morning, the shop felt odd without Monique’s presence. Although Adeline had been left in it alone many times previously, Monique had never been far away – either busying herself in the apartment above or out running errands and calling in and out as she did so.

Today it was as if something was missing from the small space – an energy that was usually there. Adeline smiled, greeted customers and tried as best she could to watch Lili who was alternating between being wonderful, reading or colouring at her small table, or racing around the shop to expend excess energy and occasionally having a near miss with an unsuspecting browser.

There was a steady stream of customers, once in a while aqueue would form at the counter which was almost unheard of when Adeline and Monique were both in position. Once, Adeline lost sight of Lili for a moment and worried she’d taken the opportunity to exit through the open door and onto the sunny street outside. But then she’d spotted a little blonde head behind one of the stacked tables and felt her insides relax.

When lunchtime arrived, she was relieved to be able to turn the little sign in the window to ‘Closed’ and lock the door on any customer who might try the handle just in case. With Lili in tow and the shop busy, she hadn’t felt able to go up to the flat and make herself a coffee; her throat felt dry and her whole body heavy and tired. It wasn’t just the busyness of the shop, or the need to look after her child – or at least keep half an eye on her – while working. It was the thought of Monique, too, somewhere on a train or walking towards her childhood home, her head full of questions, that weighed on Adeline’s mind.

‘Come on, Lili, Monique said we could use the apartment for lunch. Shall we go up?’

Lili – clearly delighted – raced up the stairs and through the door before Adeline got her shoe on the bottom step. Once Adeline reached the top, she’d already flung herself on Monique’s special chaise longue, a piece of furniture that Monique guarded fiercely and had only let Lili sit on once, after removing her shoes and making sure that her hands weren’t sticky.

‘Off that,’ Adeline said.

Lili acquiesced sulkily and plonked herself in her usual chair at the table, slumped. It was at times like this, when defiance broke through her daughter’s happy exterior, that Adeline wondered exactly what might be waiting for her when puberty hit.

Luckily, at five, the mood didn’t last long and was cured by the offer of baguette with Nutella and a glass of milk.

Adeline watched her child dig into her rather unhealthy lunch and sipped from her own cup of tea. She’d cook something proper for dinner, but right now she just wanted to take a weight off.

She dug out her phone and unlocked the screen for the first time since she’d opened the shop, seeing several notifications flash up. A sale at one of the stores she’d frequented back in London, an offer for virus protection for a laptop she no longer owned, a newsletter from an IT specialist she couldn’t remember signing up to, and a message about a book she’d enquired about online.

A text pinged in from André and she opened it with a smile. He asked her to call past the patisserie on the way home. He had a cake he’d saved for her and Lili.

And then she saw the last message in her inbox. A notification from the DNA site.

In all the chaos and busyness, she’d forgotten her usual email refreshing. And of course that had been the moment when her birth mother had decided to get in touch. She felt suddenly cold as she tapped the link and entered her password to get onto the site. And finally read the words, written in French.

Adeline, my baby girl. I am so glad to hear from you. Of course I would like to get to know you.

It was impossible to eat. To drink. To do any more than act asnormal as possible on the surface and get through the rest of the day.

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