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“Says who? How do you know they didn’t cry themselves to sleep every night?”
“Because they belonged here, it’s a community. And before you say we were never part of it, did you know Dad used to help out at Apple Tree Farm?”
“No. What’s this got to do with the price of dogs?”
“And they helped him and stood by him. Eileen still remembers your favourite cheese.”
“And that’s it? You’re staying for the cheese?” She scoffs.
“No, I’m staying because I belong. I was born here.”
She draws a loud breath, preparing herself for another attack, I’m sure. “You know David Bowie was born in Brixton. Rod Stewart was born in Walthamstow, and Eric Clapton was born in Surrey. But they didn’t go back to live in their little hometown.”
If she’s listing music trivia, she can’t be very upset, so I risk a joke. “Well, not being a multi-million-dollar recording artist, I am coming home.”
“It’s a woman, isn’t it?”
Mum’s ability to ferret out secrets has always stunned me.
“I’m not staying for any woman; I’m staying because it makes sense. You know I’ve not been happy in my job, here at last—”
“Don’t lie to me, Harrison.” She interrupts me. “I’ve always been able to tell when you’re lying. Who is she?”
There has to be a way to redirect the conversation. Elodie was worried that telling Hedge about us might complicate the discussion about the land. So, we behaved like cordial strangers in front of him and it worked. Telling my mother now would be ten times worse. It’s the one detail that will upset her even more than my decision to move to La Canette.
The moment it takes for me to think of an answer proves her suspicion.
“Don’t tell me she’s married.”
“Of course not.” My answer is too quick, too sharp. It’s a further clue which my mother’s radar picks up.
“Oh God,” she says with more pain. “You’re in love with this one, aren’t you?” She sighs. “You’d better tell me.”
There are families who don’t pry into their children’s lives, who don’t get involved. Until recently, I thought we were such a family. My mother would never interfere in Haneen’s marriage. But La Canette turns Mum insane.
“Her name is Elodie.”
“Elodie…who?”
If La Canette makes my mother insane, then the LeFevre name breaks her heart.
Sitting on the steps to Rowan’s front door, my back against the wall, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. For the next half hour, I try my best to prove that I haven’t lost my mind, that Elodie is a wonderful woman, that she has tried to mend fences between me and the locals, and between me and her grandfather. That I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about her, and no one has ever made me as happy. I explain how she inspired me to create something amazing… On and on I talk while Mum weeps silent tears on her end of the call.
At the end when we are both emotionally drained, she says, “If she really loves you, then why doesn’t she move to England for you?”
“Because like me, this is her home.”
“Because she wants it all on her terms and you are going to give her what she wants. What about what you need, what you want?”
How can I expect her to understand? Mum, who was born in Plymouth, never had a reason to love La Canette, never felt at home here.
“This is what I want.”
“It’s what you think you want because you’re blinded by her. But here’s how you find out.” She challenges me. “Try asking her to move for you. See if the LeFevres really have changed.”
I hate upsetting my mother, and I’ll do what I can to look after her and Haneen. But I’m thirty-four and know what I want. Yes. I finally,finally, know what I want to with my life.
Later, sitting on one of my new balconies, I watch the sun setting. My head rests against the freshly painted wall, painted the same faded sage green that grows all around us. The stone corners used to belong to the historic Montague house that stood here for centuries. The floor is made of cedar wood that came from the island. I can feel the rightness of my decision, a sense of belonging.
