the bright blue gaze, while Kirstie had skipped a generation and inherited Francine’s mother’s fair colouring. ‘They’ll be longing to see you both, but we are going back to France the morning after New Year’s Day. OK?’
There was silence and she hoped it was because they were both tucking in to the food she’d just put in front of them, but it was not to be.
‘We don’t want to go,’ Kirstie said apologetically, almost as if she understood how much it was going to upset her, and Ben, with his head bent over his meal, mumbled his agreement.
‘Supposing I said you had to come with me? That you couldn’t please yourselves. What would you do then?’
There was no reply forthcoming and she went into the kitchen and stood gripping the edge of the worktop until her knuckles shone white. Kirstie came to stand beside her and said awkwardly, ‘We could still go to Paris for our holidays, Mum.’ To Ben, who had sidled in behind her, she added, ‘We would like that, wouldn’t we, Ben?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, as long as Dad is there too.’
‘So it’s all right if I go back without you, is it?’ Francine asked, and was rewarded by consternation on both their parts.
‘No! We want you to stay with us. Don’t go back to Paris,’ Ben begged.
‘Why didn’t you tell me before that you weren’t happy there?’
‘Well, we were at first. It was exciting, different, it was like being on holiday, but Bluebell Cove is where we want to live.’
Francine thought wretchedly that to a lesser degree than her own the children she adored had been made to feel homesick to satisfy her own longing. There was no way she could continue to inflict that on them, so what was the answer?
Go back to France alone? She couldn’t bear the thought of it. But if she didn’t do that, it would be a case of returning to Bluebell Cove defeated by her own shortsightedness, and Ethan wasn’t going to welcome her back with open arms, was he? She’d felt like an intruder from the moment of arriving.
Two pairs of eyes were watching her anxiously and she managed a smile.
‘All right,’ she said comfortingly. ‘I’ll think about what you’ve said and see what I can do, but why didn’t you tell me this before?’
Ben didn’t reply, he just stood looking down at the floor, but Kirstie had an answer for her. ‘Because you kept crying all the time, Maman, that’s why.’
They were off sledging again once their stomachs were no longer empty, with a strict warning to be back before it was dark. The moment they’d gone Francine put on her outdoor clothes and went into the centre of the village with a heavy heart, passing the surgery on her way and wondering what Ethan was going to say when he knew that she’d coaxed the truth out of the children.
He would have to be pleased, it went without saying. Only she was devastated by what Kirstie and Ben had said.
When she went into the estate agent’s the face behind the counter wasn’t that of anyone she knew, for which she was thankful. The doctor’s wife enquiring about rental property in Bluebell Cove when from all accounts she’d moved to France would have caused raised eyebrows, though no doubt it would soon get around no matter who attended her behind the mullioned windows that looked out onto the busy main street.
‘Do you have any properties for rent?’ she asked a smartly dressed young assistant.
‘If you’d asked that in summer, the answer would have been no,’ she was told, ‘but at this time of year we do have a few. Top of the list is thatched Thimble Cottage, detached, fully furnished, with three bedrooms, bathroom with shower, sitting room, dining room and kitchen. All beautifully set out to match the age of the property. It is centrally situated next to the church. Are you familiar with the village at all?’
‘Yes,’ she said flatly.
‘Thimble Cottage is available for twelve months. I’m not sure about afterwards,’ she was told. ‘Would you like to view it? I can take you now if you like.’
‘Yes, that would be fine,’ she agreed. ‘If I am interested, I would want to move in immediately.’
The young assistant nodded. ‘That would be no problem. Shall we go? I’ll lock up here for a while.’
Francine had seen Thimble Cottage many times over the years but had never been inside, and when she did her first thought was that the estate agent hadn’t been wrong in the way she’d described it. It was a very attractive property and might go some way towards lifting the gloom that had descended on her after talking to the children.
‘This will suit me perfectly,’ she said. ‘I’d like to rent it for the twelve months it is available, so can we go back to your office and get it sorted?’
When the children came up the drive they were smiling and rosy cheeked from their exertions, but when she opened the door to them the uncertainty was there again in their expressions and any doubts she might have had about what she was intending disappeared.
But it was not yet the moment to tell them. Ethan had to be told first and though she was expecting him to be pleased that she’d had to give up some of her original ideas, she wasn’t sure if he would be happy to have her back in the village, complicating their lives even more by living across the way from him.
When he came in it was half past six and she asked, ‘How was your day?’
‘Long and busy,’ he said evenly, and went upstairs to change.
The children had already eaten. They’d been too hungry to wait and so it was just the two of them sitting down to the food she’d cooked.
When the meal was over and he was relaxing by the fire, she said tentatively, ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’
‘I hope it isn’t that you’re planning to take the children back to France before New Year,’ he said immediately, ‘because I won’t allow it. Mum and Dad will be bitterly disappointed if they’re not here when they arrive.’
‘Do you honestly think I would do that, knowing that they are coming?’ she choked out.
His expression was bleak. Returning from a busy day at the surgery and finding her there would have been wonderful if the circumstances had been different. As it was, it had been bitter-sweet and he told her levelly, ‘I didn’t honestly think that you would ask for a divorce, Francine, but you did, so don’t blame me for being concerned about what you might spring on me next.’
‘What I have to tell you is the exact opposite to what you were thinking,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I’m not taking them back to France at all, except maybe for the occasional holiday. Are you pleased?’
He was observing her in jaw-dropping amazement.
‘I might be if I knew why you’ve come to that decision, and then again, I might not. So what is going on, Francine? Is it because of what they said last night? Have they been on about it again?’
She shook her head, ‘No, not exactly. I asked them outright if it was true and they said it was. They want to stay here—and want me to stay here too.’
‘I see,’ he said slowly, ‘and what did you say to that?’
‘I didn’t say anything. Instead, I went out and did something. I’ve rented Thimble Cottage for twelve months and am going to live there with the children during the week, which is your busiest time, and will fly to Paris every weekend when they can stay with you. That way we will all be happy. Kirstie and Ben will be where they want to be, you will see a lot more of them. And I—’
‘You will be sacrificing your dream for their sakes and mine.’
‘I’ll still have some of it if I go to France every weekend.’
‘You