pushed a file across the table towards her. It was pale beige and looked official.
She flipped it open and gasped. A picture of her and Alex from ten years ago in Paris.
He shrugged. ‘It always bothered me that you never got my message. I trust my Head of Security. If he said he sent it I know he did. I had to work out what went wrong.’
‘After all this time?’
It had always bothered her too. She’d assumed an absent-minded clerk just hadn’t bothered passing the message on.
She looked at the file again. Read the notes. All of them were about her. It was more than a little unnerving. Then she let out a gasp. ‘Oh, no!’
His hands closed over hers. ‘What is it?’
She smiled at him. ‘Hotel du Chat. That’s not where I was staying. It says in the notes that your Head of Security left a message at Reception there.’
Alex’s brow furrowed. ‘He did. But that’s what you told me.’
She squeezed his hand. ‘Hotel du Champ, Alex. Not Hotel du Chat.’ She shook her head. ‘After all these years I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.’
Alex put his head in his hands. ‘I was so sure. So sure you said Hotel du Chat.’
‘It was noisy, Alex. It was New Year’s. You’d just had an urgent message about your father.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Mistakes happen.’
His finger reached up and touched her cheek. ‘I hate mistakes,’ he whispered.
‘So do I.’
They sat in silence for a few seconds. Both of them letting the revelation wash over them. For Ruby, it felt like a relief. It didn’t matter that Alex had assured her he’d tried to contact her. There had always been a tiny sliver of doubt.
But he had. And, strangely, it made her feel good. Maybe life would have been different. Who could possibly know? What she did know was that they couldn’t change the past.
‘What did the message say?’ She couldn’t help but ask. It had always played on her mind.
He gave a little nod and held her gaze. ‘It was simple.’ He shrugged. ‘We’d just met and barely had a chance to get to know each other. It said that I was sorry I couldn’t meet you, that I really wanted to see you again but had been called away to a family emergency—something I really wanted to explain to you. I left my number and asked you to call as soon as you got my note.’
She gave a sad kind of smile. ‘And that—as they say—was that.’
They sat in silence again for a few seconds, thinking of what-might-have-been.
There was no point second-guessing now. Time had passed. They’d found each other again. What happened next was up to them.
Alex pointed back to her soup. ‘Better eat that before it gets cold.’
She nodded and picked up her spoon. ‘This makes me feel as if I’m in one of those boarding schools that Enid Blyton wrote about and we’re having a midnight feast.’
His brow wrinkled. ‘She was a kids’ author, wasn’t she? I must have missed those books.’ He gave her a wink. ‘Boarding school wasn’t so bad.’
‘You went to boarding school?’ She was fascinated.
‘Not until I was twelve. I went to primary school here in Euronia. The same one that I’m planning on sending Annabelle to.’
Her bread was poised over the cup. ‘Do you plan on sending her to boarding school when she’s older?’
It was almost as if a little breeze had chilled her skin. It was all right joking about these things, but the thought of Annabelle going to boarding school in a few years made her blood run cold.
‘I don’t know that much about girls’ boarding schools. Maybe... I’d need to see how she was doing first.’
It was a touch of relief, but not enough. She had no business saying anything. But she didn’t care.
‘I don’t think you should.’ The words were out before she’d thought about them.
‘You don’t?’
He seemed surprised. But the atmosphere between them was still relaxed. She felt able to continue.
‘I just wonder if that will be the right environment for Annabelle.’ She leaned across the table and touched his arm. ‘I’ve something to tell you about today.’
‘What is it?’
She gave him a smile. ‘Today, when I was at the nursery watching Annabelle, I’m almost sure she spoke to another child.’
‘What?’
She nodded. ‘She was with a little boy. They were playing together. I was at the other side of the nursery but I saw her look up and her lips moved. The little boy’s head snapped up, so she must have said something. But at that point she resorted to signing again. It was almost as if his reaction reminded her that she didn’t talk.’
Alex looked as if he could hardly believe her. His face was a mixture of surprise and relief. ‘But you didn’t actually hear her?’
‘No. I was too far away—and, believe me, it’s bedlam in the nursery. The noise levels are incredible.’
‘So, this is good. Isn’t it?’
‘I hope so. It’s one of the concepts of selective mutism that in some situations children will talk and in others they won’t.’
‘What do you think?’
‘I think that I can see changes all the time, Alex. They’re slow, but steady. In my head, Annabelle is a little flower with all its petals tightly closed. It’s only now that she’s starting to bloom. We need to nurture her. We need to keep letting her develop at her own pace, her own speed.’
He nodded. ‘I think so too. I didn’t want to say anything, but when we were flicking through the pictures the other day it was almost as if the “mmm” sound was hovering around her lips. It wasn’t quite there, it wasn’t quite formed, but I could almost hear it in the air around us.’
‘You think she was going to say Mum?’
He gave a rueful smile. His fingers moved. She was still touching his hand and this time he interlinked his fingers with hers.
‘You think I’m just being silly? Is it just a father’s wishful thinking?’
She shook her head. He was so sincere.
‘I think you’re being the same as any parent, Alex. You’re putting the welfare of your child first.’
‘And so are you.’
He
