I’ve thought about this, too.
“I loved him before; I can love him again. We have a lot in common, it’s a life I understand and can make successful. Alice Trapper, the person I used to be, she was really good, a political aidepar excellence.”
She just looks at me with her wide, dark eyes.
“Laura, I have to try. For my daughter’s sake. I can’t say no to a real family when the alternative might just be growing up on the margin of Brandon’s life. Please don’t argue for me to stay when it might mean,”– I correct myself – “When it will almost definitely mean watching him come here on holiday with future girlfriends. Or avoid coming herebecausehe is with another girlfriend. It’s too hard. I can’t.”
She places the night-light into the suitcase next to the pomegranate cushion that the women’s centre made for me. “You’ll always have a home here. Please come back to visit.”
“Are you joking? Of course, I’ll visit. And if I need new furnishings, I will be placing a huge order for curtains, bedspreads, and cushion covers that remind me of La Canette.”
We hold each other for ages before I can bear to let her go.
Chapter Forty-five
Brandon
Almost everybody comes to wave us goodbye at the quayside. We all stand in a disorderly group outside the ferry terminal. A stack of suitcases and last-minute packages and gifts have all been collected by the harbour master and his assistant and loaded on trollies. They will wheel them on board for us as soon as the ferry is ready to leave.
Doris, along with two teenagers from the Lady Isobel Centre, are here with a garland of wildflowers for Malinara, and a pressed seaside daisy in a frame for Lessa.
Hal and Elodie give us a bottle of mead and some salad dressings to “See you through your first dinner in your new home when you have no time to go shopping.”
They think Lessa and the baby are coming with me to live in Amsterdam because of my job.
We decided not to tell anyone we’re going our separate ways. It had been our original plan to pretend to divorce. But that was last autumn before we made friends who care about us. We never expected these friendships to mean so much in so little time, yet each and every face here is one I’ll remember forever. It would upset them so much to see us ‘break up’ so spectacularly that we’re leaving the island.
As for the truth…neither of us has the heart to tell our friends that we’ve been lying to them all this time.
Pierre’s eyes brim with tears when she hugs me hard. “Please come often. We lost Liam, we can’t lose you as well.”
Gabriel claps me on the back. “You’d better come here for Christmases and Easters and summer holidays so I can take portraits of Malinara as she grows up.”
A few people must know the truth, though. Lord M, of course. He couldn’t come all the way to the harbour, but he sent us a set of beautiful picture books about La Canette and a letter saying he hoped we would always think of it as home.
George du Montfort obviously knows because Clive went to see him when he was looking for Lessa. He’s busy at the Municipalité, but his wife is here. It’s hard to tell if she knows because Millie is very tactful and gives nothing away, the ideal Seigneur’s wife.
Yes, I’ve become the kind of man who thinks about ideal marriages. I’ve changed more in the last few months than in all my thirty-three years.
Hal doesn’t just shake my hand; he grasps my entire forearm. “Let us know your concert schedule and we might fly over to see you play.”
“I’ll gladly send you tickets, you and your entire family.”
His smile slips.
“Everything, okay?” I ask, surprised by the suddenly worried expression.
He starts to shake his head then says, “I’m anxious about my sister. She was supposed to come here for a holiday then cancelled last minute. And she almost never answers the phone, anymore. I’m sure her husband is being a problem.”
I search for something comforting to say, but I’m not good with such things. Lessa is so much better. In any case, we don’t have time; the harbour master nods towards me and starts wheeling our luggage up the ramp.
This is our signal to make a move. I look around for Lessa and see her talking to Millie, they’ve moved a little away from the group.
As I approach, I hear her Millie speaking, “George has lots of contacts in London. If you’re ever in difficulty of any kind you only have to call.”
London? So, she must know Lessa is going there, and not to Amsterdam with me.
“You know,” Lessa tucks Malinara into her pram. “One of my best memories when I first got here was your mint and raspberry cheesecakes which saved me from morning sickness.” Lessa’s voice wavers as she and Millie hug.
