time she’d finished work for the day though, she’d made one of three important decisions. She’d tell Nigel she’d decided she didn’t want to work with the new owners and would therefore resign. Apart from the fact that working for somebody other than Nigel and Molly in what for her would always be their hotels didn’t appeal, Belinda was starting to think that all her current problems were a sign. A sign that it was time she moved on with her life. The next two decisions would follow on from that one. She’d go home at the end of the month, pack the flat up and move in temporarily with Chloe. If she hadn’t found a new job and a place to live when they moved, she’d go with them for a few weeks and, after that, who knew? The Vendée might be the place for her too, although if she was going to live in France, she realised she’d prefer to live in Brittany. She just had to trust that she’d make the right decision when the time came.
She was relieved too that Chloe knew she needed to talk to her when she came. As well as talking, she’d give her a guided tour of the places she’d known when growing up. It wasn’t fair to keep Chloe in ignorance about her grandparents; their history was part of hers and she had a right to know.
Belinda sighed. Life was being a bit of a bitch right now, but at least she was making plans to sort things out. Besides, no one could ever predict what the future might hold, could they?
The next few days passed in a blur of work. Belinda and Alain left Marie in charge of the office and concentrated on getting the café and its kitchen ready for the inspectors’ visit. After her initial visit to the café and Belinda’s surprise job offer, Fern had agreed to become the part-time manager of the café as well as supplying cakes and some meals. Most days she joined them for a couple of hours, helping to get the café ready. Alain had put the word out in the village that they were looking for catering staff and Fern joined them when they interviewed the five or six people who applied for jobs.
One afternoon, Fern arrived to tell them about a delivery for the next day and also to give them a broccoli quiche for supper. ‘It a different recipe – a bit spicier than I usually make it. Need to know what you think.’
Belinda picked up a crusty baguette and prepared a salad to go with the quiche when she got back to the cottage that afternoon. Placing the meal on the table, she called out ‘À table’ to Alain, who’d gone upstairs to take a shower, just as her mobile rang. Fern. They’d only said goodbye half an hour ago.
‘Hi, Fern. Everything all right?’
‘I thought I’d let you know, Anouk heard from a friend this afternoon that your father has been moved into the hospice this morning. So, if you do decide to go and say farewell, you wouldn’t have to go to the cottage. You might still come face to face with Helena at the hospice though.’
Belinda closed her eyes and sighed. The message was clear. Her dad was edging closer to the end. If she was going to see him alive one last time, then she would have to visit soon. She thanked Fern and ended the call as Alain came downstairs and she went into the kitchen for the wine to accompany the meal. She poured two glasses and handed one to Alain.
‘My father has been moved into the hospice.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Did you mean what you said about taking me? If you did, I think I’d like to go the day after tomorrow if possible.’
‘I’ll take you,’ Alain said gently. ‘But you must eat something as well as drink, otherwise you’ll be too weak to go anywhere,’ and he pushed the quiche towards her.
38
The morning of the visit to the hospice, Belinda showered and, feeling foolish, hesitated over what to wear for meeting her dad after such a long time. What did it matter in the scheme of things what she wore? But somehow it did matter. Dad had always liked to see her dressed stylishly. Belinda smiled to herself. He’d have been horrified if he’d ever seen her during her goth phase. The problem was her current wardrobe was