Page 115 of The Secret House of Honey and Hope

“Why, where are you going?” I reach up and lay a hand on his shoulder and he … he doesn’t actually move, but something feels like he's shrunk into himself, away from my touch.

“Hal?” I ask in a small voice.

“I’m going for a walk.” He says and now he does step back.

“But we need to talk.”

He meets my eyes, hesitating. “You are still determined to protect your grandfather above all else?”

“I have to protect him, he trusted me…” I begin.

Hal is already turning. “Then there is no more to say. You’ve chosen which side to take.”

“Hal!” I call after him.

He’s already back over the Bridge, walking fast, away from me. I wait and watch him, but he doesn’t turn, not once.”

Chapter Fifty-One

Elodie

Pierre is dozing in the rocking chair and starts when I open the front door.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Everything is as far from okay as it’s possible to be, but I’m too heartsick to explain. Besides, if I don’t say it out loud it won’t become true, and tomorrow it’ll all be fixed. “Come, let’s make you a bed in one of the spare rooms.”

She gives me a quizzical look but doesn’t press me to explain. We go upstairs and I find clean linen, towels, and give her a T-shirt of mine to sleep in. Then I go to my own bed.

Surprisingly, I fall asleep quickly, exhausted after the three-hour walk and the emotional triathlon. But a couple of hours later I wake up and stay awake. Thoughts chase one another in my head, round and round like clothes in a washing machine. There must be something, a solution that doesn’t involve humiliating Grandad. By five-thirty, the only answer is that I am determined to find a way. I refuse to be defeated by those two horrible men.

The positive determination, and a hot shower, with lots of nice-smelling shampoo, makes me feel much better. The sunrise from the bathroom window is beautiful, things can’t be that bad. I know Grandad is not senile. Yes, he’s forgetful at times, yes, he dwells on his favourite subjects, but that doesn’t make him gaga. I’m not going to swear in court that I think my Grandfather is senile because I don’t actually believe it. I’m not going to lie. I know Hal is scared, I am scared too, but we are both intelligent, professional people, surely between us we can find a way.

The positive feeling lasts until I get downstairs.

No coffee waiting for me on the kitchen window.

For the first time in two months, the mug of steaming aromatic coffee that Hal makes and leaves for me is conspicuous by its absence.

So, he really meant it was over between us.

There is a noise behind me as Pierre comes down the stairs and into the kitchen. I wipe my cheeks quickly, but not before she notices. Without a word, she throws her arms around me and lets me cry.

“I’m s-s-sorry.” I hiccup a little later, pulling away and tearing some kitchen towel from the roll to wipe my face.

“Do you want to talk?”

“Hal broke up with me.”

Her eyes widen. “When?”

“Last night.”

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “How long were you together?”

“Two months,” I say miserably. Two months only. My shortest relationship, ever.

So, I tell her everything. Because I need to tell someone, and she’s the closest thing to a best friend I have right now. And probably the best bestie I ever will have because she listens and hugs me and tells me all kinds of encouraging and supportive things. She even stays to give Grandad his breakfast and sit with him while I go to open the shop.

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