Christmas In Bluebell Cove. Abigail Gordon

before you go jetting off to Paris?’

      She shook her head. ‘It will be easier for us all, doing what I suggest.’ She glanced towards the sitting room where Kirstie and Ben were watching television. ‘So shall we tell the children and put their minds at rest? They were both reluctant to repeat what they said last night, but wanted me to know that it was how they felt.’

      ‘Yes, all right,’ he agreed, ‘just as long as you are sure you want to do this.’

      ‘It was the only solution I could think of.’

      ‘Mmm. I suppose so,’ he said dryly, and thought there was another one that she obviously wasn’t going to consider. She could come back to him and tell him that it had all been a mistake.

      But he knew that wasn’t how she felt and he wasn’t sure how he felt either. She’d been his love, the light of his life, and he’d lost her. Not to another man, but to a country and a house.

      The children were slow to show their delight at the new arrangements until Francine held them close and told them that she was looking forward to living in Thimble Cottage, but would be going to Paris every weekend.

      ‘So, you see, the three of us will live in the cottage during the week, and when I’m away at the weekends you will stay here with Dad,’ she explained. Ben gave a whoop of delight, but Kirstie’s expression was still anxious.

      ‘We did like living in France, Maman,’ she said guiltily. ‘It was just as nice as here. What we didn’t like was Dad not being there with us, and you not with us when we’re here in Bluebell Cove. That’s what was wrong.’ A smile broke through. ‘But what you’ve arranged will be super because we’ll be near you both, and when you go over there at weekends we’ll know that it isn’t for long. So when can we go to see the cottage?’