Page 40 of The Village Cafe in the Loire

‘Just… remembering things. Silly, really,’ she managed to say.

She paused at the back of the room to look at some photos and artwork scattered around the walls. It was less uniformthan in the corridors – the frames were mismatched and although there were a couple of landscapes, there were pictures of pyramids and sun-drenched Moroccan markets; of small children playing on a dusty street, a man silhouetted under a street light, printed in black and white.

‘She travelled?’ Becky’s voice registered surprise. Somehow, she always imagined Maud having a rather small life; lovely, of course. But small.

‘Oui, yes, when she could,’ Pascal nodded. ‘She loved to travel, meet people, take photographs.’

‘Look at this one,’ Amber said, touching a small frame close to the work surface.

Becky looked. A picture of a child, barefoot, in a muddy dress, her hair tangled and tousled from play. Her face, despite her unkemptness, beautiful and open and smiling unselfconsciously.

‘Recognise it?’ Pascal said, as Becky picked up the frame for a closer look.

Becky’s mother’s photo collection contained shots of them at weddings, on holidays. Neat, orderly, obediently saying cheese. This photo was like nothing she’d ever seen. Yet she knew instantly who it was and where it had been taken.

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘It’s me.’

A few minutes later, they were up in the kitchen again, Pascal returning to the café.

‘Well, that was a turn up for the books!’ Amber said. ‘Your aunt was amazing!’

‘Yes, she really was.’

The sun was shining almost directly through the kitchen window now, and as it fell against Amber’s face, Becky was struck again at just how pale her friend looked. ‘Shall we go for a walk or something?’ she suggested.

‘Yes, why not. Not too far though, I haven’t been to the gym for about two months and I’m so unfit!’ Amber replied, linking arms with her friend. ‘I got breathless climbing the stairs to the flat the other day – did I tell you? Such a couch potato.’

‘I’ll go easy on you,’ Becky said, trying to smile. In truth, part of her wanted to sit and have a good cry – at the missed opportunities, at the innocence of her past self and for the woman she was only getting to know properly now it was too late.

But Amber was here, now. And she didn’t want to waste a minute with her friend. ‘Let’s go.’

16

Amber hadn’t been lying when she said she was tired. The next day, despite retiring at just 9p.m. the night before, she slept until almost 10a.m.

And although they took things slowly, meandering down to the restaurant for a light lunch before Amber’s taxi arrived, the exercise seemed to absolutely exhaust her. ‘Are you feeling OK?’ Becky asked her, as she stopped for the second time to catch her breath.

‘Yeah,’ Amber said. ‘Too many late ones at work, not enough good food. You know what it’s like when you’re cooking for one.’

‘Sandwiches every night?’

Amber nodded. ‘That’s about the size of it. I’ve put on a ton of weight recently.’

‘Really?’ Becky glanced at her friend’s still slender frame. ‘Well perhaps you needed it.’

‘I need muscle mass maybe, but not… mayonnaise mass.’

Becky laughed. ‘Well, how about when I get back, we hit the gym together?’ she suggested, putting her arm around Amber’s back.

‘So you are coming back then?’

‘Of course I am!’

‘Just… you seem really happy here.’

‘Well… I am. Perhaps it’s just because I didn’t expect to be happy at all. It probably makes the happiness more noticeable. But you may have forgotten I have a job? A mother? A flatmate? I can’t abandon any of them.’

‘I don’t know, I’ve heard some strange rumours about the flatmate,’ Amber joked.

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