by Lost
Esther looked excited. ‘Are we? I’ve never done that before. Can I put the macarons in the boxes? How much are they?’
Coco laughed. ‘I know all this stuff. I’ll help.’ She went behind the counter and started serving.
Sophie, Eloise and Raff headed into the house, and Mariele and the man followed. He made sure Mariele was positioned in the centre and sat down. Fifi came in and squeezed Mariele’s hand.
‘Shall I leave?’ Raff asked.
‘Don’t be silly,’ Mariele said. ‘You’re just as involved as the girls here. You helped me with the shop, and I know you’ve been supporting Sophie through this.’
Raff sat down and Fifi took a seat next to him. Eloise and Sophie remained standing.
‘Where have you been?’ Eloise cut in.
‘England,’ Mariele replied calmly.
‘What?’ Sophie was stunned. ‘You’ve been in England? And you sent me over here?’
Mariele smiled at her weakly. ‘Well, actually I didn’t send you over here. I asked Eloise to get you. And you came. Which made me so happy.’
Sophie was clueless. ‘Why? Why was it so important for me to be here? And for you to be there?’
‘Because Raff was here. And the shop. And Paris,’ Mariele replied.
Sophie was dumbfounded.
‘And I had to be in England because I needed to have a heart operation,’ Mariele continued. ‘I was very ill and there was a specialist there. In London.’
‘A heart operation?’ Sophie gaped.
‘Yes.’
‘Oh my God.’ Sophie put her hand to her face. ‘I can’t believe we swapped places,’ she said, vexed. ‘All the time, I’ve assumed you’ve been in Paris and I’ve been searching and searching, and you were in England all along.’
Mariele reached out and took Sophie’s hand. ‘I’m so sorry, ma chérie.’
‘What was wrong with your heart?’ Eloise asked, her bottom lip trembling.
‘Something very complicated and I will tell you all about it. I nearly died, but I didn’t.’ Mariele glossed over this huge fact quickly. ‘And it took me a long time to recover. I was in a hospital in London for weeks, and then I went to Surrey to get better. I was very ill for a while… in a coma.
‘In a coma?’ Eloise echoed, staring at Mariele.
‘Surrey.’ Sophie stared at the man who had brought Mariele in. He had taken a step backwards into the edge of the room. ‘You.’ She pointed at him. ‘It’s you, from the photos.’
Mariele looked startled. ‘The photos?’
‘You have photos. Of this man. You’re Theo.’
He nodded and stepped forward. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘You have a pâtisserie in Surrey,’ Sophie added, remembering what Jo had said on the phone earlier.
Theo looked impressed. ‘You’re quite the detective.’
Mariele was flabbergasted. ‘How have you managed to get all this info, Sophie?’
‘A pâtisserie?’ Raff frowned. ‘So that’s how you know one another.’
‘Not as such…’ Mariele glanced at Theo. ‘Well, kind of.’
Theo sat down near Mariele. ‘We trained together. Here in Paris. And then… a few things happened…’
They exchanged another significant glance.
‘And then I went to England,’ Theo continued, ‘and opened a pâtisserie there. Mariele opened the macaron shop here.’
Mariele nodded. ‘But we… always stayed in touch. And then when I needed him, Theo was there for me. He is… the other piece of my heart. The one I lost all those years ago. And it was my fault.’
‘It was both of our faults,’ Theo corrected her.
‘You wrote those texts,’ Eloise said suddenly.
Theo looked up.
‘You wrote those texts,’ Eloise repeated. ‘Not mum. You. Mum was in a coma.’ She turned to Mariele. ‘You were in a coma. How did you call Sophie that time?’
Mariele sighed. ‘I came out of the coma and I called. But I got very sick again after that. I wasn’t capable of calling or texting. So Theo took over again.’
‘Right.’ Sophie nodded rapidly. ‘I knew there was something strange about the texts, but I forgot about it after the phone call. The texts… they were you, Mum, but not you.’ She frowned at Theo. ‘But how could you know all of those things? About our childhood? About mum? About us?’
‘Because…’ Theo started then hesitated.
‘Say it,’ Mariele said, clutching his hand.
‘Because I’m your father,’ Theo said, his voice thick with emotion. ‘That’s how I know all of those things. I was there, for some of it, but you don’t remember me. And then I wasn’t there, but Mariele told me everything. We have talked almost every day for several years. As friends.’
Sophie and Eloise found themselves holding on to one another.
‘But… but you said he was a waste of space,’ Eloise stammered. ‘No good…’
‘No, I didn’t,’ Mariele said. ‘You assumed that and I let you think it.’
‘But why?’ Sophie whispered.
‘Because I made a huge mistake,’ Mariele confessed. ‘I thought I was too young to settle down. I didn’t know I was pregnant with you two. I sent Theo away because I was too proud and too pig-headed and stubborn.’ She gave Sophie a pointed glance. ‘And then when I had you, Theo wanted to be in your lives and I wanted him to be, but I still didn’t feel ready for a relationship. How stupid is that? I sent him away and didn’t speak to him for years.’
‘It was a bad time,’ Theo admitted. ‘Eventually I met someone and we married.’ He shook his head. ‘But it didn’t work out because I was never truly happy.’
‘Theo got worried about me when he didn’t hear from me for a few days and when we finally spoke and he realised I was ill, he was there for me, immediately,’ Mariele said, starting to cry quietly. ‘He nursed me back to health and he kept in touch with you. It’s my fault we’ve been apart for so long.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Theo stood up. ‘Girls, I know this must be really strange for you, because you don’t know me, but I feel as though I know you both so well. Mariele has told me everything over the years.’ He sounded as though he could barely speak. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’
Eloise tentatively went into his arms. ‘We missed you too. Even though we didn’t know.’
Sophie held back. Could she just accept this man as her father? He hadn’t been there for them… but maybe it wasn’t his fault.
Mariele met her eyes. ‘It wasn’t his fault, Sophie. It was mine.’
Sophie went to him and he held her in his strong arms and she sank into them. There was so much talking they needed to do.
‘Don’t make the same mistake I made,’ Mariele said to Sophie in a low voice. ‘Do not let him get away. Not this time.’ She nodded at Raff.
Sophie felt shocked, but she knew what she had to do. ‘Raff, can we talk?’
They went to one side.
‘Are you ok?’ Raff said. ‘That must have been such a shock.’
Sophie nodded. ‘I’m fine. I’ll get my head around it later. I have to say something to you. That thing I said about going back to England… I just mean that I have to go and pack my life up there.’
‘Oh.’ Raff looked relieved.
‘And then I’ll be back. To Paris. For good… with you.’
Raff kissed her. ‘I couldn’t bear it if you left again.’
‘Neither could I. And I won’t. Because… you’re the other piece of my heart,’ Sophie said with a sheepish grin.
‘And you are definitely mine,’ Raff told her, sinking his hands into her hair. ‘I lost you and now I’ve found you again. And I’m not letting you go.’
‘You’d better not,’ Sophie said. ‘We’ve lost too much time as it is. Me, you, Paris…’
Raff grinned. ‘Shall we sneak off for a while? Leave everyone to it?’
Sophie thought for a minute. ‘I’m not sure I’m ready to leave mum just ye
t, not now I’ve got her back.’
‘You’re right. And we have the rest of our lives to be together. Oui?’
‘Oui,’ Sophie agreed. ‘But I don’t see anything wrong with you kissing the life out of me for the time being…’
Wrapping his arms around her, Raff willingly obliged.
First published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by Canelo
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
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Copyright © Sasha Wagstaff, 2019
The moral right of Sasha Wagstaff to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788633192
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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