Page 120 of The Secret House of Honey and Hope

I almost laugh. Of course, it will change everything. I have no doubt they will make as much noise and destruction as possible to put off any customers and drive me out. And on Sunday morning in ten days, there’ll be a crowd of workers outside my door waiting to evict me and Grandad.

For the first time, I actually begin to consider doing what George suggested, going to court to say Grandad is mentally incapacitated. My insides twist with pain at the thought.

“Do you want me to send them an order to not come to your shop?” Myles asks.

“Of course,” Pierre answers for me.

“It’ll be done.” He pulls out his phone to make a note or email someone.

I am grateful, of course. But it’s only a short-term measure. Their horrible visit has made the whole thing much more real. I can’t stop thinking about it all day. Even Pierre is a bit subdued.

Grandad. My poor Grandad. Either I call him senile, or he’s going to lose his home and be evicted in ten days. Two choices each worse than the other.

When Pierre bids me goodnight later, she gives me a hug and tells me, “Don’t give up hope. We won’t give up. we’ll go down the hill on Tuesday. And if there is anything that has a bearing on the dispute, we’ll find it.”

“Is Gabriel coming with us down the hill?” I ask.

She nods. “And Hal of course.”

Chapter Fifty-Three

Elodie

In the end, I bite the bullet and talk to Grandad. Friday morning, when he’s fresh and at his best.

I tell him about the sale of the other house on our other side, the demolition that’s going on. The threat of eviction in ten days, and then with a slow, slow tongue, I tell him about the possibility of voiding the sale by claiming mental incapacity.

Grandad’s reaction is nothing like I expected. He’s furious, face a livid red, he literally heaves himself out of his chair. “Then they will find out they messed w’ the wrong man. I will fight until the last drop of blood in my veins dries up. We fought the German two hundred and sixteenth infantry division and the three nineteenth. I’m not goin’ te’ be bested by two boys who never fought nothing harder than a buttered slice of bread.”

It takes me ages to calm him down. And even when he’s back sitting down with a mug of tea by his side, he lets it go cold while he tells me he’d rather sleep in the street than lie down and give up. “You never saw the prisoners of war, even starving and cold, they didn’t lie down and give up. They never stopped trying to escape, to survive. If you saw that, you’d never be in any doubt what to do now.”

So, that’s as clear as it gets.

I find a little peace in knowing what he wants me to do. Or at least what he doesn’t want me to do. But finding a way to fight back isn’t going to be easy, either.

The night before the trip, I can’t sleep, wondering if Hal really will come with us.

My determination to be independent and proud crumbles under the pull of my longing to see him, to talk to him and find a way out of this stupid breakup.

Should I talk to Hal about what Grandad said?

No. We already said everything that night in the field.

Then how can I fix this?

Don’t be a fool. Don’t run after him.It was him who called it off, it should be him to come back.

Okay. How should I dress and act?

That’s just another kind of running after him. Besides, I could wear a potato sack and it wouldn’t matter; he knows what I look like.

But men are visual, everyone knows that. If I look nice...

If he needs me to look nice to love me then this relationship isn’t worth having.

I finally fall asleep around four in the morning, and the sun streaming through my window wakes me up at seven. Too late for anything like a long bath, body exfoliating, leg shaving or deep moisturising. I barely have time to dry my hair and throw on clothes suitable for a trek down the hill.

My choice is a flattering pair of beige linen trousers. They’re probably too warm, but I can roll up the legs which always looks nice and shows off my slim ankles. The scratchy bushes means no short sleeves, so I wear a cotton vest with a loose white shirt on top which I keep unbuttoned and tie the ends in a knot around my waist. The idea is that if we get too hot, I can always take the shirt off.

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