‘Delphine,’ Jacques said. ‘Until this is moved you cannot have customers accessing this aisle. Someone will get hurt.’
‘Or lost!’ Gerard remarked, pulling an ornate Christmas cracker from his beard.
‘Ah, is that so?’ Delphine said, a twinkle in her eye. ‘Yes, I fear you may be right. Isn’t it lucky that I have you here to help me decorate?’
‘Oh, no, Delphine, I have beer arriving in an hour and I need to move my stock around. They have put off the delivery for over a week because of the weather so I cannot miss it and Saint-Chambéry cannot run out of beer,’ Gerard said, side-stepping a currently flat but very large inflatable angel.
‘Gerard—’ Jacques began.
‘You must go, Gerard,’ Delphine interrupted. ‘Jacques can help me.’
Now he saw the woman’s vision. She had deliberately unpacked this here knowing it would cause an issue that needed to be solved and that he would not be able to leave without assisting her. And Gerard didn’t need to be told twice that he could escape from this mayhem. The bar owner had untangledhimself from a string of coloured lights and moved like a cheetah towards the back of the store and freedom…
‘I do want to talk to you,’ Jacques said when they were alone, the conversation from the café area and light festive music the only sounds around them.
‘I know,’ Delphine replied. ‘But you also know that this conversation will kill me quicker than any cancer. So, we will do it my way. While making this store look like a Christmas wonderland.’
She had planned this. Like she planned everything. He had no other choice, so he picked up a line of maids-a-milking.
‘Where do you want these?’
‘So, you can ask now,’ Delphine said, as Jacques, on a stepladder, tied another garland to the rafters.
‘OK,’ he replied.
‘OK,’ she repeated.
As they had begun decorating, Delphine had told him she did not want to start straight into talking about her illness, that they needed to do good work first and then she would be ready to confide in him. He knew there was no way he was leaving the shop today without getting his answers but he also appreciated how hard it must be for her. But with a whole stream of questions fighting their way to be first, whatdidhe begin with?
‘Are you in pain?’ he asked.
‘Sometimes,’ she said with a sigh. ‘But it is manageable.’
‘You have medication?’
‘I do.’
‘What kind?’
‘The pain-killing kind. The type that puts it in the background so I can live without it taking over everything.’
‘Whereabouts is it? Do you have to have an operation?’
‘My stomach. And nobodyhasto have an operation.’
‘Delphine, what does that mean?’ he asked, storming down the steps of the ladder until he was opposite her. ‘Does it mean that you can have an operation to fix this, but you are refusing to have it?’
‘There is no point. I will be away from the shop and the village for too long, the chances of it working are not high enough, then there will be more draining treatment and more time away from Saint-Chambéry so?—’
‘So you’re just going to give up and… die?’
His heart was beating in his neck, throbbing so hard it was making the skin hurt. This was worse than the cancer itself. How could someone with so much vitality decide to just let that slip away?
‘I have decided to do everything I can to live the fullest life possible until God decides it is time for me to stop.’
‘Delphine—’
‘Stop!’ she ordered, stamping her feet. ‘You can ask me anything but you cannot tell me what decision to make.’
