Bella had relived this moment hundreds of times since – when Kitty had given her the news about Mum’s accident; when Dad had come home, ashen-faced, and told her the same story all over again; that night when she’d been lying in bed and it’d felt like the house was holding its breath; and in the morning when she woke up feeling normal, and it had hit her thirty seconds later – a blow enormous enough to take her breath away.
She’d thought back to that final exchange and hated herself. Why hadn’t she turned and given her mum a hug? Slipped her arms around her and leant into her and sniffed her lily of the valley perfume and just said something like ‘I love you’. It would have taken a second. Maybe if she’d said that, things would be different. Somehow it felt as if Mum hadn’t died because of the van that had ploughed into her car at a roundabout, but because Bella hadn’t loved her enough, hadn’t made it impossible for her to leave.
A woman turned and looked at Bella, her face creasing in sympathy, and Bella looked sharply away. All people did now was look at her, or ask her how she was. Even Kitty, with her sad face, her worried questions.
Of course she wasn’t OK. Nothing would ever be OK again.
After the service, they all crowded back to their three-bed detached house and ate sausage rolls and little sandwiches. They drank tea and coffee and orange juice.
As soon as she was able to, Bella escaped to the garden, away from the gaping mouths filled with half-chewed bread, the inane chatter, the ordinariness of it all. The funeral had been awful, but the sandwiches were worse. They reminded her of packed lunches and picnics and boring ‘this will do’ teas. Of everyday things that had come before and would come again. She couldn’t understand how easily people could put food in their mouths and chew and talk about what a lovely woman her mother had been.
She couldn’t understand why people wanted sandwiches.
She’d had one forced into her hand by Kitty, and as she stood behind the huge oak tree in their garden, she shredded half of it into crumbs and threw it, piece by piece, to a blackbird that was hopping at a safe distance, regarding her with its side-facing eye, its head on a tilt.
The bird table was empty. Mum had always been the one to cover it in titbits for the birds, to hang disgusting fat balls from its special hook. Bella walked over and crumbled the rest of her unwanted sandwich onto its surface.
As she turned away, she noticed a feather at the base of the structure. Bending, she picked it up, remembering times when she’d done so as a child; how exciting it was to find one. And she thought of Mum. And she tucked the feather into her pocket before making her way back into the house.
7
NOW
As the train jolted, Bella’s forehead banged lightly against the window. She sat up with a start, realising she’d fallen asleep. The man opposite was looking at her with undisguised amusement. She glared back, feeling her head throb, and he looked back down at his phone screen as if nothing had happened.
Checking her watch, she saw that there was now only an hour to go until she reached Versailles. She felt the familiar spike of anxiety that she’d kept experiencing ever since she’d made the arrangements.
The call about the job had come unexpectedly. The woman’s voice on the phone had been clipped; efficient. ‘Is that Madame Baker? It’s Claudine from Hôtel Benjamin.’
‘Yes. Speaking.’
‘I’m calling about your job application.’
‘Oh. Yes. Great.’
‘I appreciate this is short notice, but the person we’d offered the job to has had to pull out. And you mentioned on your application form that you don’t have to give notice on your current position, is this correct?’
‘Yes. I mean, there isn’t really… no, there’s no notice period.’ It wasn’t technically a lie after all.
The woman had asked her a few further questions; and Bella had expected to perhaps be offered an interview. Which meant she’d been stunned at what had happened next.
‘So, this is a temporary position, with the possibility of permanence after six months.’
‘OK.’
‘And if you are still interested, we’d like to offer it to you.’
‘Yes! Of course. Yes, please. I mean, I’d be delighted.’
‘Wonderful.’ The woman had given her a start date and details and simply hung up.
In all honesty, it had sounded like it might be a scam. But Bella had looked up the hotel website again and found Claudine on it. The CEO.
Then an email had come, confirming her appointment, and she’d begun to feel more than a little excited.
‘So what exactly is the job?’ Juliette had asked, as they’d walked the length of the small village a few days ago. Jolie was bouncing on her lead, anticipating a longer walk and not realising they were only going as far as the café.
‘I’m not completely sure,’ she’d admitted. ‘I applied for so many. Something in the admin department, I think.’
