Mia passed back the photographs, sad they hadn’t been able to discover more.
‘Did you have his name, by any chance?’ she asked.
‘His name was Gus,’ came a softer voice from behind them. ‘I’ve always remembered it because when I sat beside her bed to give my own mother a break, that was the name she’d whisper.’
‘You never heard her say the name Hope?’ Mia asked, knowing it was a shot in the dark.
‘I’m sorry, it was only ever Gus.’
They looked around a little longer, hearing about how gin was made and how absinthe would have been distilled and hidden in order to transport it to Paris and other villages, and then it was time to leave.
‘Thank you for welcoming us into your home,’ Mia said as Joe shook their hands.
‘I hope you find the answers to what you’re searching for,’ the woman said.
‘May I leave my email address with you, just in case?’
‘Of course, and I’ll ask around some other relatives, see if anyone knows anything that may be of use to you.’
‘Thank you. Anything at all, I’d love to hear from you.’
And as she walked to the car, Mia looked back over her shoulder and wondered if there was something she was missing, wondered if Hope had ever walked this exact same path that she was walking now. It was silly, she knew, but somehow she could imagine her aunt as a young woman, glancing over her shoulder, looking back at the distillery.
‘Well, what do you want to do now, Mia? Do you want me to drive you back to your hotel?’ Joe asked.
No. That was the very last thing she wanted. She’d come so far, yet she still didn’t have all the answers she needed. It might sound irrational to anyone else, but she just wasn’t ready to give up. She didn’t want to go home yet, even if that did mean delaying her flight again.
‘Or we could spend the next few days road-tripping through the countryside, if you’re not ready to say goodbye to France just yet? We could keep asking around, see if anyone we come across in other villages knows anything?’
‘The second option,’ she said, laughing as Joe’s eyes met hers. ‘But there’s one thing.’
One of his eyebrows arched in question.
‘I want to take photographs along the way, so you’ll have to be patient with me every time I ask you to stop the car.’
Joe’s fingertips brushed her cheek then followed the line of her jaw, eventually pausing gently at her throat as he leaned in to kiss her.
‘I think we have a deal.’
She kissed him back, not wanting to imagine what it would be like to say goodbye, how she was going to go home and forget about him, when he was the one who’d reminded her of who she used to be.
But she wasn’t going to worry about that now. The next few days were for letting herself believe in love again, and celebrating that she finally knew even just a little of Hope’s history.
‘You’re not too disappointed that you didn’t find out more today?’ he asked.
‘I am, but it was still worth coming. I feel connected to this place in a strange way, and I have to trust that eventually I’ll find the answers I’m looking for.’
She hadn’t learnt everything she’d wanted to discover, but for today, it was enough, and as she pressed her forehead to the window and watched the countryside, her eyes catching on a dilapidated stone shed with a thatched roof, set back off the road, she knew that she’d remember this trip for as long as she lived.
25
FRANCE, 1938
It felt like it had been one of the longest days of her life waiting for him to return. When Gus had left four mornings ago, he’d pressed a kiss to her forehead and stood there so silently, his face impossible to read as he’d said goodbye and slipped out the door. But part of her had felt as if he was walking away from her forever, that she’d never again feel the warmth of his embrace, that he’d realise what a terrible mistake he’d made and would choose his family over her. That she’d be faced with the reality of him never returning.
So instead of waiting in the apartment for him to come home, she’d left a note for him and gone to the one place where they were both happy. There was a small lake not far from the distillery, where they’d often walked when they needed a break, where wild roses grew furiously, tangling together and never failing to remind Hope of the beauty in the world. Which is why she’d chosen that place to wait for him.
And just when she’d wondered if her faith in him was misplaced, when she’d begun to picture him taking another path, she’d seen him walking towards her, his long stride covering the ground quickly as his gaze found hers. Her heart felt like it was going to beat straight from her chest as he ranthe last few steps and reached for her; his face showing his pain, but also reassuring her that he had missed her as much as she’d missed him.
