I don’t see why you shouldn’t be there. Mum and Dad might feel hurt if you can’t be bothered to spend some time with them. After all, they are not to blame for this situation.’
‘And I am?’
‘We both are,’ he said grimly, ‘but it’s past. We’ve made our beds and must lie on them. To get back to what I was saying, it would do you no harm to see them. You’ve known them long enough. If Dad gets out of hand about the divorce, I’ll deal with him.’
He was asking her to be polite to his parents, Francine thought wretchedly, polite to the kind mother-in-law that she loved. Jean Lomax had only moved from northern England to the south when she’d married his father, but had known what homesickness was and had understood how much she’d wanted to live in Paris in the house that was the only thing she had left of her parents.
She’d been sympathetic and supportive, but she loved her son and had accepted that he had to support his family and keep to the promise he’d made when he’d taken over the practice. Like someone on the rack, Ethan had been pulled both ways and she knew that he had stood his ground with an aching heart,
Her father-in-law, more volatile than his wife, had been furious with the French daughter-in-law that he’d always adored, and made no bones about it. The thought of coming face to face with him again made a chill run down her spine, but she would cope somehow for Ethan’s sake.
‘All right, if that is what you want.’ she replied, wishing herself miles away. With tears threatening, she told him thickly, ‘I’m taking the children back to France the moment New Year is over. I should never have come. It was stupid of me to think it could be civil between us, and as I’m already here it will save you having to bring them back the following weekend.’
He’d been putting crackers on the table while she’d been busy at the stove and knowing she was close to tears was gripping the back of a chair to stop himself from going to her and taking her in his arms. What would it achieve if he did? It was all too late, he told himself as he’d already done countless times before.
Their marriage was on the slippery slope, had been for months because he’d made a commitment that he’d felt he was not in a position to back out of, and Francine, who was usually most understanding and logically minded, hadn’t been prepared to back him up on it.
When the four of them were seated around the table for what Francine was expecting to be a travesty of a Christmas dinner, Ethan produced the gifts that he’d told her about earlier, and with Kirstie and Ben watching intently she unwrapped them slowly.
The belated birthday present was a book that she’d once said she would like and she thought how achingly different it was from the lingerie that he usually chose with care.
There was an unwritten, unspoken message in the gift he’d given her and she understood it all too well. It was the same with the Christmas present, an exquisite gold bracelet decorated by a jeweller with tiny shells that he’d gathered from the beach. It was another reminder of what she was missing, she thought, beautiful Bluebell Cove with its golden sands and breathtaking countryside—and him.
‘Thank you Ethan,’ she said in a low voice and when Kirstie insisted on her wearing the bracelet she slid it
carefully on to her wrist.
That night, sleepless once more in the spare room, Francine’s mind was going over the day just gone and the strange mixture of it. The children’s pleasure had been the highlight, and the giving and accepting of gifts between Ethan and herself bizarre and hurtful when she thought of how it had once been. Yet she was still wearing the bracelet, couldn’t bear to take it off.
New Year’s Day was going to be strange too with the visit of Jean and Lawrence Lomax planned. At the beginning of the marriage break-up Ethan’s father had told her angrily that a wife’s place was with her husband and if this was where he earned his living it was where she should be prepared to stay.
The dread of meeting him again was still with her, but he was the last person she was going allow to tune into the state of panic-stricken indecision in which she was floundering.
In the meantime there was a week’s grace before she had to face them. She was going to keep a low profile where Ethan was concerned, spending all her time with the children or on her own. The feeling of panic was still with her, the choking sensation every time she thought of the years ahead without him.
If she were to tell him that she’d changed her mind and was going to forget about the house in Paris, would it make any difference? she wondered. The scars on their relationship were not going to heal overnight, if ever.
When she discovered that the children had been invited to the home of one of their friends for Boxing Day she decided to spend the time they were absent walking along the coast road and stopping off for lunch somewhere.
As soon as they’d left she went to get ready and came down within minutes dressed in a warm jacket, jeans and her boots. Ethan was reading a medical journal in the sitting room when she appeared and asked, ‘Where are you off to? There’s still a lot of snow around after the heavy fall on Christmas Eve.’
‘I’m going to walk along the coast road and will eat out at lunchtime.’
He nodded and went back to his reading. There had been a time when he would have been beside her, she thought, happy that they were spending some time alone together, but not now. He was probably feeling relieved that she was going to be out of his orbit for a while as her role in his life had changed from cherished wife to intruder.
Outside there was a cold wind that stung her cheeks and the snow that had been there on the day of her arrival in Bluebell Cove still lay thick and crisp beneath her feet. Down below she could see the beach and the cold blue expanse of the Atlantic surging in once more.
In past summers when Ethan had finished at the surgery they’d spent lots of time down there, with the children fishing in rock pools and playing in the sand, and all of them swimming when the sea wasn’t too rough.
It was far too cold for that sort of thing now, but she hoped he would still take Ben and Kirstie down there when they came to stay with him in the spring. The beach and the sea were two of the delights of Bluebell Cove, as was the enchanting village surrounded by the rolling green fields of the Devonshire countryside.
If she were to put all that on to one side of the scales of life, and on the other side place living in a house she owned on the outskirts of one of the most famous cities in the world and the place where she’d spent her childhood, but had sacrificed her life with Ethan because of it, which way would they tip? she wondered.
The wind continued to bite. She pulled her jacket more closely around her. What was the point of thinking those sorts of thoughts? She’d made her choice and her life was a mess.
It was going dark in the cold winter afternoon and Ethan kept looking at the clock. Where was she? he wondered, the pale and drawn-looking stranger who not so long ago had been happy to live with him here, and now incredibly was back as a visitor, sleeping in the spare room instead of next to him in the double bed they’d shared.
But, he thought bleakly, he wasn’t there to watch over her in Paris, so why get all steamed up because Francine was late from a walk that they’d done countless times before? Yet he couldn’t help himself.
When their marriage had started to collapse she’d been immovable in her desire to live in France and in the end he’d given up on her and after being stunned by her request for a divorce had agreed.
But she was different now, he thought, lost and vulnerable, but not so much that she hadn’t been quick to remind him when he’d seen her in the square on Christmas Eve and joy bells had rung in his heart that she was only over on a visit to see the children.
He was going to have to keep a tight hold on his emotions because she’d been the one who’d wanted to end