Page 50 of The Magic of Provence

She wasn’t planning to go back to Scotland, she’d announced. She was going to apply for a long-stay visa on the grounds of having family here, to get past the ninety-day limit for a visit, and Laura said she’d help her with an application for citizenship, which was possible when you had a French grandparent. Fi said that, if it was okay with Ellie, she’d like to stay on in La Maisonette for a while. She could pay rent. With her share of the inheritance that had come from this house being sold to Julien, she had enough money to live on while she decided what to do next with her life. She might travel, she’d said. Or get a job somewhere.

Ellie’s eyes had lit up. She’d told Fiona that she didn’t need to pay rent; caring for the house and the donkeys would be enough, especially if she was interested in working for Ellie.

‘I’ve got an idea for a business,’ she’d said. ‘I was on the point of starting it when I got pregnant with Bonnie and it got shelved. I’ve even got a name for it. Two names, I haven’t quite decided. It’s either “Stone Flowers” or “A Touch of France”. They’re going to be paving stones with mosaic flowers set into them, like small pieces of the old pathways in St Paul de Vence.’

My goodness, how excited had Ellie sounded, and looked, as her words tumbled out. ‘I’ve got bags of concrete and mortar in the cellar and buckets of beach stones I’ve already collected but I desperately need another pair of hands. Ones that aren’t going to be required by a small human at inconvenient moments, like when a batch of concrete needs to be used before it sets.’

Laura had approved of the idea.

‘I’ve got contacts,’ she’d said. ‘With interior and exterior designers – here and in Scotland. I could help, too.’

Jeannie let the flash of what had been going on with her daughters in the last few days fade from her thoughts.

Laura certainly wasn’t about to approve the idea of visiting her father. She was opening her mouth to say something else but Jeannie beat her to it.

‘They’re going to send him home soon,’ she said. ‘In a day or two, perhaps. It might make it easier to meet him somewhere that’s… neutral ground? Where there are no ghosts of the past and no connection to the future if you decide that you don’t want to see him again? Because you don’thaveto see him again, any of you, if you don’t want to. But you won’t really know what you want unless you do see him at least once.’

Fiona was the first to speak. ‘I’ll go,’ she said. ‘I want to see him.’

Laura glared at her. ‘Why?’

‘Because he’s our father. Because what happened wasn’t his fault. He was sick and that was something he couldn’t control. And… and I think that people deserve a second chance. A new beginning.’

It looked as if she might be about to cry, Jeannie thought.

‘Everyone is worthy of being loved,’ she added, her words ending with a shaky intake of breath. ‘And that starts with your family, doesn’t it? And your friends.’

Ellie was crying. She sniffed and then hugged her sister. ‘You’re right, Fi. And I want to come with you. I want to see him, too.’

Laura was looking at the old beams in the ceiling, as though she was halfway through rolling her eyes.

‘Grand,’ she muttered. It sounded as if the word came out from between gritted teeth. ‘I’ll suppose I’ll have to come as well, then.’

* * *

Maybe this had been a mistake.

You could cut the atmosphere in this small hospital room with a knife.

Laura, Fiona and Eleanor were standing against the wall. If they’d stretched an arm out, they could have touched the end of the bed that Gordon Gilchrist was sitting up in. Final tests were being done today so that he could be discharged, and he’d just come back from having anMRIscan of his brain. He looked tired and he was wearing a hospital gown that made him look so vulnerable. Facing the jury of his daughters was making him look…

…unbearably sad.

Jeannie had ushered the sisters into the room and introduced them. They were all staring at their father but nobody was saying anything.

In the end, it was Gordon who broke that horrible silence. His gaze was fixed on Laura, and Jeannie could see the moment he recognised her. She could feel him reaching towards his firstborn child even though he hadn’t moved a muscle.

‘Lulu,’ he said. His lips trembled and then began to form a smile. ‘Lulu,’ he said again.

Laura’s face crumpled as she struggled not to burst into tears. The sisters leaned closer to each other.

‘Fiona.’ Gordon let his gaze rest on her face for the longest moment. ‘I’d forgotten,’ he said quietly, ‘how beautiful your mother was when I first met her. But now I remember because you look so much like her.’

He was speaking in English. His voice was soft but his Scottish accent was as strong as it had always been.

‘Eleanor,’ he said, as he shifted his gaze. ‘Wee Ellie… Your mam tells me that you’re the one who has my painting.’

Ellie nodded. ‘It’s in the cottage,’ she said. ‘La Maisonette. The house your brother owned.’

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