Page 76 of The Magic of Provence

‘Donkeys can live for a very long time,’ Christophe murmured. ‘I believe I’ve heard of one in theUKthat lived for more than fifty years.’

She loved that look she could see in his eyes. She could feel it in the spiral of sensation it ignited in her body. He was about to kiss her again.

‘I’m not sure if that’s quite long enough,’ she whispered.

‘I agree.’ Christophe’s lips were close enough to hers to make them tingle. ‘We’ll just have to make the most of every moment, yes?’

‘Aye…’ Fi closed her eyes and closed that tiny gap between them. ‘I couldn’t agree more.’

* * *

EPILOGUE

CHRISTMAS EVE, TWO YEARS LATER…

The ancient church in the main square of Tourrettes-sur-Loup – the Église Saint-Grégoire – had not only been the beautiful setting of Ellie Gilchrist’s wedding, it was the perfect backdrop for a nativity play that seemed to be including as many children as possible from the local primary school.

It was getting dark on this chilly but dry late afternoon, which made the sparkle of fairy lights more magical. Strings of the tiny lights were draped through the bare branches of the plane trees in the square and outlined the archway over the tall wooden doors that were the main entrance to the church. Spotlights picked out the small statue in the alcove above the doors, the round window above it and the cross on the roof. The spire and belltower were also illuminated but the bell had stopped ringing now.

It was almost time to begin.

Marguerite was looking fabulous, beautifully brushed and not wearing her saddle, so that the dark cross on her back and down her shoulders could stand out and look appropriately biblical for her task of carrying Mary to centre stage. An antique wooden cradle was positioned there, in the middle of a semicircle of haybales, that the youngest children in the school were already sitting in front of, wearing the cutest fluffy lamb onesies.

Fi had one hand on the halter, ready for the signal to move forward when the choir of little angels had finished singing their first Christmas carol. On Marguerite’s other side a young boy dressed as Joseph was standing tall and proud, holding the donkey’s lead rope – and probably holding his breath as well in anticipation of his starring role. Theo had been beyond thrilled to be chosen to be Joseph. He was wearing a robe with a tasselled belt and a long vest that Ellie had made for him. She had used a tea towel for his head covering and twisted a length of fabric to hold it in place as a headband. He had black face paint smudged on for a beard and Julien had found a shepherd’s crook that was taller than Theo even though he was nearly eight years old now.

Fi had a lead rope in her other hand but it was only for show. Bouton had decided as a foal that she would follow Fi anywhere she chose to lead her, and she was the happiest and most well-behaved donkey in the world. Her favourite thing was an outing where she could meet people and get cuddles, and she often visited nursery schools and old people’s homes. An appearance at a Christmas market or a nativity play was just as much fun. She didn’t live at La Maisonette any longer. Neither did Marguerite or Coquelicot. After the problem with the dust in the summer, and knowing that the olive grove was really too small for two donkeys, let alone three, a family decision had been made to let them go and live with Fi and Christophe on the property they had purchased up in the hills between Tourrettes-sur-Loup and Vence.

Their home was a ranch-style dwelling with stunning views of both mountains and the sea and more than enough room to cater for the small riding school that Fi was running. It had forest on all sides and, along with the ponies for children to ride, Fi was expanding into treks where people could lead a donkey into the forest and enjoy the serenity of both the trees and the company of these animals she adored. Sometimes, if it hadn’t been possible to go to work with Papa, there would be a large, gentle dog plodding along behind the line. Heidi was in the back of Christophe’s car tonight, however. Theo’s teacher had been thrilled at the idea of having a real donkey in thejeux de la Nativitébut she had shaken her head firmly at the idea of creating a role for a dog.

The angels, all wearing white dresses with wings on their backs and halos on their headbands, had finished singing and the audience of proud family members were clapping.

Fi looked up at Theo’s friend, Genevieve, dressed in a beautiful blue dress with a white shawl over her head and shoulders. She was sitting on Marguerite’s bare back, using handfuls of the tufty mane to keep her balance.

‘Tu es prête, chérie?’

‘Oui.’

‘Theo? Are you ready?’

‘Oui.’

‘C’est parti.’ Fi clicked her tongue and Marguerite obediently started walking. Bouton gave a little skip and nudged Fi’s elbow to let her know she wasn’t far away.

There were gasps and then audible happy sighs from the crowd as they came around the corner to lead in a large cast of characters. Around another corner of the uniquely shaped church a child dressed all in yellow and holding a huge, cardboard star on a long stick was waiting for their cue to walk on next, leading the three wise men in their robes and golden crowns.

Fi and Theo led the donkeys to centre stage and the narrator began the Christmas story as Joseph and Mary sat on one of the haybales. Christophe, who’d been discreetly to one side, went in to lay a well-wrapped bundle in the cradle in front of them and then lead Marguerite to where she would stand on the edge of the group. Fi took Bouton to stand beside him and they exchanged a look that told her Christophe was loving this Christmasspectacleas much as she was.

Not that it would last long. Families needed to get home for their Christmas Eve family feast. That’s where Fi and Christophe would be going, too, as soon as they’d taken the donkeys home. All the food, from the smoked salmon and oyster entrée to the Christmas Yule log cake and champagne for dessert, was ready and waiting at Laura and Noah’s house and the entire family would be gathering.

Not that Laura would be enjoying the champagne, being heavily pregnant with her second child. Fi could see her now, standing to one side of the audience. Was she trying to relieve her backache or had three-year-old Lili decided she needed to stand on Maman’s chair so that she could get a clear view of her cousin Theo in the play? Bonnie was standing on the chair beside Lili but her little feet were on Julien’s legs and he was holding her around the waist. Ellie had her head against Julien’s arm and, as Theo waited for Mary to sit down first, Fi saw them exchanging the kind of look that parents gave each other to acknowledge that their child thoroughly deserved the amount of pride they had in them.

Shepherds appeared to mingle with the sheep and the Christmas star was carried aloft to lead in the three wise men and their gifts. After that came characters that Fi had never seen in a nativity play before but she’d been in France long enough now to know that thesantons– the figurines that represented not only the traditional characters in the Christmas story but every person in the village – were a big part of Provençal Christmas traditions. Children dressed in costumes and carrying accessories crowded in around the edges. There were bakers and butchers, girls wearing the traditional costumes of heavy dresses with white aprons and frilly hats, some carrying bread sticks or bundles of dried lavender.

Everybody had a part and, as the grand finale, they all sang ‘Il est Né, le Divin Enfant’. Fi had to smile as she saw Lili and Bonnie dancing on the edge of the audience now, holding hands as they turned in circles. Laura was sitting down beside Noah but two other family members had got to their feet to watch over the little girls. Jeannie looked just as happy as Lili and Bonnie and, beside her, stood the rock of a grandpapa that Gordon Gilchrist had become. He still couldn’t remember everything of his life in Scotland and he would never get back the years he’d lost of his children growing up, but they were all adjusting to something new and, it seemed, better.

Jeannie and Gordon were both living in La Maisonette at the moment, after selling the cottage in Oban they’d been spending a lot of time in over the last couple of years. They hadn’t quite found the perfect house in this part of France yet, because it needed to be close to Saint-Martin-Vésubie, within easy driving distance of their growing number of grandchildren and with a big enough space to give Gordon the studio he needed to keep painting. Noah was working on that. He thought that maybe they should think about a gallery space as well – perhaps in Saint Paul de Vence. Ellie and Fi might like to share the space to display their pebble mosaic work and the hand-forged, wrought-iron sculptures that were becoming very sought-after additions to beloved gardens.

The final song was met with clapping and cheers but it wasn’t quite the grand finale after all.

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