Chapter 7
7
For a long time after he’d disconnected, Finn stayed where he was in his car, with the driver’s door cranked open, trying to process what he’d just discovered. He felt hot and cold and shivery, all at the same time.
For his entire childhood he’d envisaged his mother being far away in a different country, which explained why she’d never come back to see him. It had helped knowing she was far away – a princess in a foreign land. When he was small, he’d thought of her as a princess.
She’d been beautiful enough to be one. He remembered sweet-smelling golden hair, spidery eyelashes and a gentle voice.
He’d been just six years old when she’d left and at about the same time he’d read a fairy tale at school in which a beautiful princess got a piece of glass in her eye and it made her see the world differently. For a long time, he’d wondered if that was what had happened to his mother. She had got some glass in her eye which had made her think she no longer loved him. She was a bit like a beautiful princess, but no one seemed to want to tell him. No one seemed to want to talk about his mother at all.
When he was older, he’d stopped thinking of her as a princess. That fairy tale image had slowly died, along with the hope that had ebbed away as each year passed and she never returned. She’d never sent a birthday card. She’d never called. It was as though she had vanished without trace.
Imagining her across the seas had helped him to cope. She couldn’t come back because she was too far away. Sometimes he imagined that some dreadful accident had befallen her, just after she’d left him and Ray. She’d died and that was the reason for the years of silence. In this scenario, Finn had imagined her lying on a hospital bed and in her dying breath thinking of him, the child she’d abandoned, and regretting that she’d left him.
In every scenario Finn had conjured up for his mother’s departure, there had always been an element of huge difficulty – the feeling that Bridie hadn’t come back because she couldn’t. Not because she didn’t want to. He had never played the blame game.
Perhaps because his father hadn’t either. His father had only ever said, ‘She was too young, Finn, for a family, and she knew I’d always take care of you. She did what she thought was best for you.’
Finding out Bridie hadn’t gone back to Ireland at all was a crushing blow. Knowing she must have been living a stone’s throw – less than an hour if it was Southampton – from where his paternal grandparents lived but had still never once asked after his wellbeing felt like a huge betrayal.
Bridie had known Benjamin and Evie McTaggart and she’d known their Arleston address. She could easily have asked them how he was. She could easily have sent him a card or a letter.
He was struck by another possibility. Maybe she had done this. Both of his grandparents had died within a few months of each other before he’d moved to Arleston, so Finn couldn’t check with them. But surely if Bridie had contacted them, they would have said something. Unless they hadn’t wanted to rock the boat and upset their son. That was a possibility too.
Maybe they even had something hidden away – some evidence, a card or a letter they’d kept.
He shook his head, caught between shock and denial. Ray had inherited their cottage when they’d died, and Finn had overseen the clearing out of its contents. If there had been anything to find he would have found it. He’d sorted through countless files and pieces of paper and he’d not seen anything. But then he hadn’t been looking. What if he’d missed a letter from his mother? A birthday or Christmas card. There’d been plenty of old cards. He hadn’t read them all.
He tortured himself with the thought that it was too late. Whatever might have been in his grandparents’ cottage was long gone. His head hurt with the churning of what ifs and if onlys.
It was another text that finally pinged him out of the past and into the present. He glanced at his phone and read the notification from Jade.
Are you on your way back? I’ve got some exciting news.
Finn realised he’d been sitting in his car for over half an hour. This was crazy. He should get back. Find out what Jade’s news was and tell her what he’d just discovered.
He gripped the steering wheel. At least he no longer felt hot. He felt weirdly numb and calm. He manoeuvred the Toyota out of the car park, the clinking of the Calor gas cylinders in the back bringing him firmly back to reality. No wonder Jade had texted him. A twenty-minute trip had turned into one that had taken over an hour.
‘Was there a queue in the Calor gas shop?’ Jade greeted him cheerily. ‘Or did you get sidetracked looking at the tools section? I love that shop. I always spot something I need, although I didn’t know I needed it until I saw it.’
‘I had a couple of phone calls and I didn’t want to talk while I was driving.’
‘Anything important?’
He shook his head. She looked so happy. Finn didn’t want to burst her bubble with a bombshell from the past. Besides, this wasn’t the right time anyway. He couldn’t tell her here on this bright blue summer day. He had to get his head around it all first. It was going to have to stay secret a bit longer.
He busied himself changing the cylinders on the pink caravan.
‘So what’s this exciting news?’ he asked as he worked.
‘I saw Farmer John earlier and it’s true about him selling up. Mike was right about him considering selling to developers. But I’ve negotiated a deal. He’s going to sell me the field adjacent to the dog field.’
‘Wow.’ He finished with the cylinders and met her eyes. ‘Tell me more.’
When she told him Farmer John was happy to sell her the five-acre field that directly abutted her land and the price they’d agreed, Finn looked at her in admiration. It was crazy cheap.
‘How did you get him to agree to that?’
‘I’m a very good negotiator. My mother may have missed out on any maternal genes, but she knew how to screw down a deal and she taught me everything she knew.’
She gave a little bow, and as she straightened, he stepped forward and hugged her. ‘You’re amazing, do you know that? Has he got a buyer for the rest?’
‘There are a couple of developers interested. I think he’s going to let them fight it out.’
‘But he’s definitely agreed to sell you the field.’
‘Yes. We shook hands on it and he won’t renege. He’s always been a gentleman. Come on, I’ll show you. I’ve got plans, and they involve you and some nifty fencing.’
‘Good. I feel like I haven’t done much to earn my keep lately.’
‘That’s only because you’ve done most of it already. This place has had a complete makeover, thanks to you.’
Jade gestured towards the kennel block as they passed. Finn had given the kennels a new roof, and the cattery had been completely refurbished. All of the old stone outbuildings had been given the Finn touch, which meant they’d been updated and weatherproofed and would last for a good long while, and he’d done it all with minimal outlay. Finn had been brought up with the motto make do and mend. Ray had never had much money to spare and everything had been recycled in their house. It was a way of life that settled itself into your bones.
Even the pink caravan had been given a paint job and replacement window seals so it no longer leaked when it rained. Jade had insisted it was still pink as she’d said she could never get used to calling it a blue caravan or a cream caravan so Finn had humoured her, although he’d negotiated her down to a slightly less disgusting pink than the faded cerise it had originally been.
A few moments later they were standing in the hen field, looking out at what would become Jade’s new land.
‘There’s a natural tree line that runs down towards the road,’ Jade pointed out. ‘It’s the land between here and there that I’m buying. Farmer John said we may as well include the bit the trees are on. They’ll only be felled if we don’t. He’s getting some plans drawn up that will show all the boundaries properly. He’s got a solicitor already so I just need to instruct ours.’
He loved the fact she said ‘ours’, not ‘mine’. That was so typical of Jade. This whole setup was hers. He’d had nothing to do with buying any of it, yet she still referred to it as ‘ours’ and she consulted him on every decision.
Finn felt guilty about that sometimes. He had some savings, which included an inheritance from his grandparents, although these had dwindled of late because he insisted on paying his share of the bills and he also paid Sarah maintenance for Ben. He’d never really envisaged he’d make any proper money from his art, but that had happened too lately, and with luck – and Eleanor Smythe’s help – he hoped it would continue.
If it didn’t, he’d need another job. When he’d first moved in, he’d been working for Jade, and she’d paid him a small wage, with accommodation thrown in. But things were different now they were a couple. He was desperate to be more of a provider than he was.
‘Is the outer boundary on the road?’ he asked Jade now.
She nodded and he felt a hint of unease. From what he could see, that didn’t leave much access for the developers and he’d have thought access would have been a big consideration.
‘What?’ Jade asked, picking up on his hesitation.
‘I was thinking that a developer might need more access to the road. They’d need an exit that wasn’t on a bend, I’d have said.’
‘I wondered that too, but Farmer John seemed happy enough about the boundary we agreed. And he’s pretty shrewd. So I don’t think it will be an issue. We’ve shaken on it anyway, so he can’t pull out.’
‘Great,’ Finn said, glancing back at her face once more. He wasn’t so sure. But once again, it didn’t seem fair to burst the bubble of happiness that surrounded her. He’d just have to hope she was right.