worry, his broken nose more than makes up for it.’
‘And?’
‘And I don’t think we can rule out the possibility that he had something to do with Mathilde’s disappearance. Frederic is violent, arrogant and thinks he’s untouchable.’
‘Sounds a little like someone else I know, minus the arrogance of course.’
‘I’m never unnecessarily violent.’
‘Who said I was talking about you? I’ve come across plenty of men in my time who accurately fit that description.’
Veronique rolled her eyes. ‘Back to Mathilde. I need to do some more digging, find out about Frederic’s past.’
‘I can do that. George owes me a favour.’
‘Fine, but don’t let him in here. I can’t risk having anything traced back to my IP address, not now we’re being watched. I also need to get to the boss before Guillaume.’
‘Where did the girl work? Perhaps I can meet George there, scout out the place for you, faire d’une pierre deux coups and all that.’
‘A bar near Montmartre.’
Christophe pulled a face. ‘When you say “bar”, do you mean upstairs or behind the curtain?’
‘No idea. All we have is the name of her boss, Valentine Dubois, which just so happens to be the same name as the eyewitness the police were too quick to dismiss. Guillaume is bound to go back and question him, unless I can get there first.’
Christophe looked at her. ‘Promise me this is about the girl and not him.’
‘It’s about the girl. And he wasn’t the only one to blame.’ Veronique’s phone beeped and she slid her thumb across the screen, frowning at the reminder that popped up.
‘All the more reason never to go back there, no matter how good the sex was.’ Christophe peered over her shoulder. ‘You can’t keep avoiding that.’
Veronique tucked the phone in her pocket. ‘Who says I’m avoiding it?’
‘I’ll come with you. Isn’t the clinic on Boulevard Jourdan? I know a girl from the clinic who lives there and used to work in Montmartre. If Mathilde was more than just a barmaid, Giselle might recognise her or at least point us in the right direction.’
Veronique looked at him then drained her coffee and rinsed the cup in the sink before placing it in the dishwasher. ‘Fine. But you’re not coming in with me.’
‘No need to be so shy, darling,’ he whispered into her ear, ‘it’s not as if I haven’t already seen what you’ve got.’
Veronique
‘I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.’ The doctor sat down opposite Veronique and opened a file.
‘I wasn’t sure myself,’ Veronique replied. ‘It’s good to see you, Mingxia; it’s been too long.’
‘Well I’m glad to see you now.’ Mingxia glanced at her notes, running a finger down the page. ‘I have the blood work back and everything looks normal. Your testosterone levels are still slightly elevated, but nothing to be concerned about so we can proceed as planned.’
‘I’m not comfortable with the idea of an operation.’
‘Of course, but it’s relatively non-invasive. We would keep you in overnight for observation and the risk is minimal.’
‘It’s just that if it doesn’t work…’ Veronique looked over at a board on the wall, full of smiling cherubic faces and letters of thanks from their parents. How many more faces were there telling a different story, of lost hope?
Hope. A single word containing so much possibility. What was it that she hoped for? The confused prayers of a young girl were now so far behind her that Veronique couldn’t recall ever feeling truly hopeful. Her foster father had made sure of that.
Mingxia clasped her hands together. ‘I understand, but I wouldn’t be recommending the procedure if it weren’t the best option for treating polycystic ovary syndrome when all other factors have been ruled out.’
Veronique crossed and uncrossed her legs. ‘About the other option you mentioned…’
‘What does Guillaume think?’
‘We’re not together any longer.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Mingxia removed her glasses and closed the file. ‘I can’t pretend that it would be easy, but I can certainly put you in touch with someone who would be able to give you a better idea of how it all works.’
‘And what about my past?’
‘What about your past?’
‘Does it put me at a disadvantage?’
‘I’ve told you before, I’m not qualified in this area, but a person’s background should have no legal basis on which you could be disqualified from applying. If anything I would think it would put you at an advantage, being able to identify with a child about the care system, explaining how you overcame the difficulties of your upbringing.’
‘Meaning I’d have to go and see a shrink.’ Another person asking questions Veronique herself didn’t know the answers to.
‘A psychological assessment is a legal requirement, yes. But this is the same for everyone.’
How could she teach a child to dream? To wish, to aim for the stars when she herself had never had someone to show her the endless opportunities life had to offer? If only you were willing to take a chance, to risk it all, safe in the knowledge that there would be someone to catch you if you fell.
‘I don’t know how to be a mother.’
Mingxia reached across the table for Veronique’s hand. ‘Does anyone? Mine pushed me as far as she could. Wanted to prove that her own upbringing wouldn’t restrict the ambitions she had for me.’
‘She loved you.’
‘Yes, but as a child I wanted bedtime stories and fairy cakes we’d baked together rather than another teacher. It means that one day I will be different with my own children, because I choose to show them how much I love them. You have that choice too.’ Mingxia looked at the clock on the wall behind Veronique’s head. ‘I’m sorry, but I have a meeting to get to.’
‘I know, I was late. I’m not usually late.’
Mingxia stood and pulled Veronique in for a hug. ‘Don’t be a stranger, Veronique. Just because I’m your doctor doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends.’
‘Thank you, Mingxia.’
She released
