Living with Strangers Read Online Free PDF Page A

to encourage or support.
    I left the phone and the bar, going back upstairs to see to the washing. Marie-Claude raised an eyebrow as I went down for my shift in the evening, treating me to an exasperated shrug when I shook my head. There was coolness in our talk that evening; Marie-Claude unimpressed by my tactics of avoidance.
    ‘Why not write?’ she said. ‘It might be easier. Besides, your mother may have heard from this Alex too. It could be good for you both – a way to open things up again.’
    ‘Maybe.’ I said, ‘We’ll see.’
    I did write, though, after work, sitting at the kitchen table with the row of letters in front of me – the reminder, the stepping stones. I told them about the parcel; I wrote simply and with as much good grace as I could muster. I needed them to know that my life was fine, that I had everything I needed. At some level too, I didn’t want them to worry. The threshold I had crossed by having Chloé had shown me parenthood from the other side; it had slowly dawned that Molly and Saul, for all their apparent indifference, may just be concerned about me at some level.
    To Marie-Claude’s relief I posted it in the morning, a mission accomplished, a duty performed. I expected nothing in reply.
    But a reply did come, less than week later. Marie-Claude brought the letter up and handed it to me. Curiosity again tempered by faint rumblings of alarm, I looked at Marie-Claude.
    ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘I’ll be downstairs.’
    Inside the envelope were two sheets of paper, Molly’s large, formal writing flowing across the pages. I scanned them briefly, then stopped and read them in detail as the paper began to shake. Again, silence in the room; somewhere a tap dripped. A sudden rush of blood to my ears that swished with my heartbeat.
    Minutes later, I went down to find Marie-Claude clearing breakfast bowls from the table. She paused and looked up.
    ‘I have to go home now.’ I said, ‘I have to find Josef…’ but before I could say more she came and held me tightly while I cried a long moment, in the soft, familiar comfort of her shoulder.

Five
    With some trepidation, I phoned Molly that morning, outlining my plan to come home. At first, she hesitated, the other end of the line silent, until I heard a long outlet of breath – not impatience, but relief.
    ‘Let us know your flight,’ she said, ‘Paul can meet you.’
    ‘It’s fine, I’ll catch the bus. There is a bus, is there?’
    ‘There is but there’s no need. Paul will come.’ Molly paused, ‘We’ll see you soon then, ‘ she said, and hung up.
    I stood in the bar with the receiver in one hand and the ear piece in the other, then put them away and went outside to the street, walking up and down the wide sandy pavement, trying to catch my breath.
    ‘You’ve done it then.’ Marie-Claude came out to join me, holding Chloé by the hand. ‘You’re going.’ It was not a question.
    ‘I’m going. As soon as I can book a flight.’
    ‘Marie-Claude bent down and picked up Chloé. ‘It’s the right thing,’ she said, ‘I know it’s the right thing, but…’ she looked past me to the horizon, to the long green strips of forest, ‘I shall miss you. So much.’
    ‘We’ll be back soon. It’s only a visit, I need to see them.’
    ‘I know – of course I understand. Take no notice – I’m sorry,’ and she went back into the bar, taking Chloé with her.
    But later, Antoine spoke to me as we waited for the evening drinkers to wander in. ‘Don’t mind her,’ he gestured towards the kitchen where pans and dishes clanged with more resonance than usual. ‘She’ll be fine. You know, she was like this all the time till you came.’
    Antoine agreed to take us to the airport. Marie Claude insisted he tear himself from routine to accommodate us and he seldom refused her. Marie-Claude in any case, never drove beyond the immediate area. For some reason I had never understood, she rarely left the village. I knew only that