Evie
Evie paid the taxi driver and stepped out onto the car park above the pépinière and slowly began to make her way towards the entrance. Intent on buying a plant for Libby’s birthday, she hoped Pascal would be at work and he’d be able to advise her on which kind of plant would thrive in the auberge’s garden.
She needed to talk to him too. Tell him the truth about herself before he heard it from someone else. Libby saying she’d sent a Parisian reporter away meant that her hideaway had in all probability been discovered and it was time to own up to who she was. To try and stop the hordes of paparazzi descending.
It was important too to tell Pascal she was no longer at a crossroads in her life. To see his reaction when she told him the road she would take in the future had been decided.
The pépinière was far bigger than Evie expected and busy with people wandering around under the huge glass roof that covered a vast area with hundreds of different plants under its protective covering. Seven huge polytunnels were placed around the land with gardeners tending plants and advising people on their choices. Where to start looking?
Lola raced towards her and she bent down to stroke the dog. “D’you greet everyone like this Lola—or do you remember me?”
“Evie?”
She straightened up and smiled at Pascal who was regarding her quizzically.
“Have you come to see me?”
“Yes I want to talk to you—and I also need help in choosing something for Libby’s birthday,” Evie said.
“We’ll do that first then. Tree? Shrub? Smaller plants?”
“I’ve always adored magnolia trees,” Evie said. “I think one in the auberge garden would look beautiful.”
“Bon. Magnolias are down the far end,” Pascal said. “Follow me.”
It took some time to reach the tree and shrub section of the pépinière as several customers stopped Pascal to ask his advice, which he gave with his usual calm and courteous manner. Evie watched while he was talking and realised how completely at home he was here, his shyness forgotten as he explained how different plants needed certain things from the soil. How and when to prune an orchard was another question he answered expertly before they reached the tree section.
“You love your work, don’t you?” she said as another happy customer wandered away.
Pascal nodded. “Up until now it’s been my life. Right, here are the magnolias.” He stood and carefully looked at the trees in their pots.
“You don’t want too small a one, or too big—ah, this one is perfect.” And he pulled one forward. “Big enough to flower next year and small enough to have some growing to do before pruning.”
“Can you deliver it for me?” Evie asked.
“Of course. Right, that’s Libby’s present taken care of, now we talk,” Pascal said. “We’ll go to my cabin. We won’t be disturbed there.”
The cabin, hidden away behind the main office, had a desk with paperwork piled high over it and a tray of seedlings perched on top. Lola made for her basket under the desk and Pascal closed the door behind them.
“Malik gone back to Paris?” he asked.
“Couple of days ago,” Evie said. She looked at Pascal. “He’s a good friend. We go back a long way.” She fiddled with the strap of her watch before saying, “You know I was at a crossroads in my life—well he was a part of it.”
“Are you and he more than friends?” Pascal said.
Evie shook her head. “No. We’re close friends but never anything more.”
“You were holding hands.”
“As friends.” Evie took a deep breath. Time to tell Pascal the truth. “Pascal, I’m not really Evie Patem. Well, I am sort of, but my real name is—”
“Suzette Shelby and you’re an internationally famous ballet dancer,” Pascal finished for her. “And Malik was your dance partner before he became a choreographer.”
Evie’s mouth opened in surprise as she stared at him. “How did you know? Libby? She promised not to tell anyone.”
Pascal shook his head. “My mother. I had my suspicions from the first time I met you that you weren’t who you said you were. Mother was certain you were Suzette when she met you and Malik turning up was the final big clue. An unusual name and one my mother knew.”
Evie could only stare at him speechless. Now she knew the reason behind those awkward silences at dinner. Marquisa de Guesclin and her friends had known who she was all the time.
“My mother has always adored the ballet and frequently goes to Paris, as you know. She’s even seen you dance! Tells me you dance exquisitely. She likens you to Violette Verdy at her best.”
Evie smiled. “My mother would have adored hearing that. It was always her ambition for me to be up with the best French dancers. Verdy, Sylvie Guillem—personally I always wanted to be Lesley Caron.”
“So has being Evie Patem and staying in Brittany helped you make plans for the future?” Pascal asked quietly.
“Yes. Now my dancing days are coming to an end I intend to make a new career for myself with embroidery and haute couture.” She paused. “I’m also going to leave Paris and move to Brittany.”
Pascal gave her a broad smile. “Truly?”
Evie nodded. “Of course I have to find somewhere permanent to live and—” she hesitated “—I’d really like to stay as Evie but Libby has already pointed out the difficulties with doing that. So at some point I have to let it be known I am Suzette Shelby.” She sighed. “Then the media circus will hit town I expect.”
Pascal dismissed that with a wave of his hand. “Pff. A week or two and then somebody else will be in the news.”
“Hope you’re right,” Evie said. “I’ve loved being Evie. She’s makes me feel young again! Wish I could stay with her really.”
“You’ll always be Evie to me,” Pascal said. “Although my mother will probably insist on calling you Suzette. She’ll be over the moon that I’ve fallen in love with someone famous.”
“Fallen in love with?” Evie whispered as Pascal took her gently in his arms and kissed her.
It was minutes later when Evie stood back and looked at Pascal. “I’ve also decided I’m not going to dance Swan Lake this autumn. I’m planning to phone Malik tonight and tell him. I think he’s expecting the news but I know he’ll be cross and disappointed.”
Pascal took hold of her hands. “Would you dance it this last time for me? I’d love to see you dance.”
“You would? I’d love to dance for you too. But what if I have another injury? I know it’s only a week of performances. But what if…?”
Pascal silenced her with his finger across her lips. “Shh. Life is full of what-ifs? I just think you need to bring the curtain down on your dancing career properly, not just fade away.”
Evie looked at him silently as Pascal took his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her.
“Phone Malik now and tell him your decision. You’ll dance for him one more time—not just for him but for you and me.”
Evie smiled at him as she took the phone. Pascal was right. Allowing the curtain to fall after a final week of dancing and saying a proper farewell to her old life could only be a liberating experience. One that would leave her free to pursue her new life without regrets.