Page 78 of The Little Provence Book Shop

Monique nodded. ‘I had never sought my daughter, I believed she was dead long ago. But when you arrived, I had this strong pull. I cannot explain it. I started to believe that perhapsyouwere my daughter – or perhaps I let myself believe this delusion because for the first time when I was with you, I didn’t think so often about the baby I had lost. That is why Michel and I argued. He thought I was crazy. And perhaps I was.’

‘Do you think it’s something scientific? That kind of primitive recognising that a person is connected to us through blood? Something we don’t understand, but is there anyway?’ Adeline mused.

Monique leaned forward and took her hand. ‘We cannot understand everything. I do not really understand what it is that draws me to people, that helps me to read their pain, to find a solution sometimes. But I know that this is something I can do. You can too, I think. Some people might call it science – want tostudy it and work out the way in which it all works. Other people would call it magic.’

‘And what do you call it?’

Monique smiled. ‘Ah, I think you know. And Adeline, it is not something you should fear. There are always things we can’t quite explain. We think we see something. We sense something about another person. We take a remedy not because the doctor says we should, but because our grandmother swears by it. We seek to understand, but I have learned that sometimes you can just accept. That maybe it is science, this connection, this pull between us. Or maybe it is magic. Or maybe there is something else. But whatever it is, it is a good thing. And we can embrace it, even if we can’t give it a name.’

Adeline nodded.

All her life, she’d tried to find ways to make sense of her world. But as she’d grown, more and more things had happened that she didn’t understand. Lili’s father not wanting to know her. Her own father dying. Her mother’s illness. Then finding the papers. Now, her journey to France and a brand-new family to get to know.

Life was messy. It didn’t fit neatly into a box. And nor did she, she realised. Perhaps she would never find a place where she felt she truly belonged, because there were several places where she could live and be happy and find connection. Perhaps the problem wasn’t as she’d thought – she had questions, but perhaps it wasn’t always necessary to have all the answers.

‘Thanks, Monique,’ she said.

‘For what?’

‘For all of it. For being my friend, my support, and now my family. For what it’s worth, and although I don’t believe in it, really, I do feel that all this was meant to be.’

Monique smiled, a little like a teacher at a pupil who’d finally figured out algebra. ‘Well, I am glad,’ she said.

Their smiles softened as they both relaxed and began to let sleep take over. Beside them, Lili was still snuggled up, oblivious to the world. And while they all slept, Adeline felt a sense of peace that she hadn’t experienced for a long time.

38

‘So let me get this straight,’ Stacey said, leaning forward over her glass of wine. ‘Sophia’s your birth mum, but turns out she’s also Monique’s long-lost daughter. Which means Monique’s your nan, and Sophia’s Lili’s nan, and you’ve suddenly got four generations of relatives when you barely had one before.’

‘That’s about the size of it,’ said Adeline, taking a long sip from her glass.

‘Bloody hell.’ Stacey let out an incredulous laugh.

‘Yep.’

Stacey shook her head. ‘But Monique doesn’t want to take a DNA test even though it would confirm everything, make it, like, official?’

Adeline shook her head. She gave a little eyeroll then felt a bit guilty. ‘I mean, I get it. She’s seen the photo, although… well, it’s not that clear. But she and Sophia feel a connection. They are quite alike.’

‘Seems a bit weird,’ Stacey said. ‘Sorry. I don’t mean to sound rude.’ She made an apologetic face. ‘Just… you know.’

‘It does seem a bit weird. Talking to you now, hearing it allout loud…’ Adeline admitted. ‘But when I’m with Monique, I’ll be honest, I find myself believing it all.’

‘But if she’s that certain, why not take a test?’

‘I know. I definitely would, in her situation. But whenever I speak to her, she says she’s completely certain and she feels that to take the test might be to question her good fortune, to say that she doesn’t have enough faith.’ Adeline smiled.

‘OK. I suppose that’s kind of sweet.’

‘It is.’

‘Odd though. She has her little ways, doesn’t she!’

Adeline laughed. ‘She does at that. Mind you, don’t we all. I mean, since meeting Monique I’ve realised how many things I’m superstitious about or have faith in. You know, like walking under ladders – I know it’s nonsense but I still can’t do it. And Friday thirteenths always freak me out.’

Stacey nodded. ‘I do keep this on me all the time,’ she said, drawing a battered, tiny toy tortoise from her handbag. ‘It’s like a mascot, I suppose. I’ve had him since I was about twelve; he came to the labour ward when I had the kids. My lucky charm.’

‘Aw!’ Adeline said. ‘And I have this,’ she fingered the tiny silver heart she wore on a chain. ‘Mum – my adoptive mum – gave it to me when I was a kid. And I found it when I was clearing out her stuff. I’d obviously abandoned it when I moved out. But I put it on and now I sort of… I can’t take it off. It’s as if she’s with me.’ She felt a spike of grief and took a deep breath, forcing out a smile. ‘I guess it’s no different in some ways from believing that we can manifest things, create a charm, use crystals…’

---