Page 69 of The Village Cafe in the Loire

‘Oh nothing. It’s just… when I was growing up, she was more than an aunt to me. My mother wasn’t well. Even when I was tiny. She was in a lot of pain, didn’t have time to really do very much with me. But Maud did. Maud really took me under her wing. And when Mummy died…’ She took a deep breath. ‘Well, I always thought of her as a mother figure to me. And then she… well, she left me and didn’t come back.’ Her mother’s voice cracked a little.

‘Oh Mum.’

‘It’s ridiculous, of course. I was a grown woman by then. Had met your father. And there was an open invitation for us to go over whenever we wanted. I tried to let go of that childish feeling of… I don’t know. Abandonment. And I did! You remember, we went every year. And back then, it wasn’t as easy or as cheap to do that as it is now.’

‘But then you stopped.’

‘Then we stopped.’

‘Why? Why did you? Because of the things she said about education?’

‘Partly, but it was much more than that. It won’t make sense to you probably. You clearly love Maud. You’ll take her side, no doubt.’

‘Mum! I love you too, you know.’ And she did, Becky realised. Despite the fact that sometimes talking to her mother was an effort, despite the thinly veiled criticism and completely out-in-the-open pressure her mum always brought to the conversation, she did love her.

‘Well, all right. She started trying to take your father and you from me as well.’

‘What?’

‘We’d been going for more than a decade by that time. And it was always rather wonderful. A break from the routine. Then your father started talking about buying a property. Moving out there. You’d have loved the idea, I knew. You always became a little tearaway during our holidays – painting, getting dirty, rushing about with Maud. You’d had a tough time at school that year – a shouty teacher, a couple of bullies in the class – and when you’d got a bit teary about it, she’d told you that education wasn’t everything. And suddenly I could see it.’

‘See what?’

‘Everything I’d worked for, everything I’d built for myself. My family, you. Yes – my work. I do love what I do, you know, Rebecca. I’m proud of what I’ve achieved even if nobody else appreciates it.’

‘Mum! I appreciate it! I do.’

‘Well, good,’ her mother sniffed loudly. ‘Anyway, at the time, I felt as if Maud had abandoned me all over again. And now she was stealing you and Daddy too.’

‘Oh Mum, she’s not like that.’

‘Not intentionally perhaps,’ her mother admitted. ‘But what she suggested threatened to break up everything I held dear. My career. And my family too.’

‘Did you ever tell her how you felt?’

‘Not exactly. We just sort of… stopped going. Booked different holidays. Let things slide. Then Daddy died and…’ Her mother’s voice shook. ‘I just couldn’t face her after that.’

‘Why not? Surely she would have been supportive? Looked after you?’

‘That’s as may be. But I couldn’t bear the idea that she might think it was my fault.’

‘Your fault?’

‘Yes. That if Daddy had moved to France, relaxed more, he’d still be with us.’

‘Oh Mum. Maud would never say that. And it’s not true, you know that.’

‘Do I? Does anyone?’

Becky felt a lump in her throat. ‘So you blamed Maud?’

‘No. I just couldn’t bear her… judgement.’

‘You were afraid?’

There was a sharp intake of breath as her mother crushed down the emotions from her past.

‘Heavens, Rebecca! Not afraid! What rot! Anyway, it’s all in the past now. No good dredging that up. You’re back, you haven’t decided to throw your life away. You’re healthy. We can carry on as before.’

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