Chapter 1 #2
This elicits the eye roll she was expecting, and her daughter gives her that look that teenagers manage with such panache – the one that says they’ve already heard all your stories a dozen times, that they know everything about you, that you are dull and boring and could never in a million years understand what they’re going through. Because, duh, you’re a grown-up.
‘Yeah, I know, Mum – you were a wild child, I get it! We’ve all heard the tales about how you roamed the world in your camper van before Starshine finally tamed you!
But you’re not me, are you? And look at you now anyway.
There’s nothing wild about you now. You’re as sucked in by this place as everyone else. ’
‘True. I suppose I am. But the home I grew up in made me feel exactly how you do now.’
‘Right, and how is that, then? How do I feel, All Knowing One?’
Molly ignores the sarcasm – which is an essential skill as a mother, she’s discovered. If you respond to every barbed comment or heavy sigh or slammed door, you’d spend your whole life running on adrenalin.
‘Stifled. Crushed. Strangled. Trapped. Like you’ve been crammed into a box that doesn’t fit you, and now someone is cranking the sides of the box with a lever so it’s getting smaller and smaller and you can’t move and can’t breathe and can’t find a way out.
Like if you don’t somehow burst your way out of that bloody box, you will probably die. ’
A swoop of surprise appears on Suzie’s tear-stained face, followed by a few moments of silence.
‘Okay. Yeah. That’s kind of it. I’m sorry, Mum.’
‘What for?’
‘For all of it. For being a dick. For making you climb a tree. For just being so… difficult. I know the others are easier. I know I’m the awkward middle one that causes all the problems.’
Molly laughs out loud and carefully shuffles further along her branch to be closer. Suzie does the same, and soon they are able to reach out and hold hands in front of the reassuringly solid trunk in the middle.
‘Darling, where would the fun be if everyone was easy? If everyone was the same? I spent most of my childhood convinced I’d been swapped at birth – I couldn’t believe that the very ordinary, very boring people I was living with could actually be genetically related to me!’
Suzie looks a little guilty, and Molly squeezes her fingers tighter. ‘It’s okay, sweetie. You’re allowed to feel however you feel. I will always love you, no matter where you are, no matter how far away, no matter how many problems you cause. Now, let’s talk about university.’
It’s a sudden shift, and Suzie is caught unawares.
She’s doing her A-levels right now, and needs to complete her uni applications within the next few weeks.
She’s been putting it off – torn between not wanting to go at all, and a crippling inability to choose.
Much as she says she wants to escape, she’s also a little bit scared of leaving.
‘Dad wants me to go to Bournemouth, or Bristol.’
‘I know he does. Because they’re not too far away from here, and because he loves you and wants to keep you safe. But maybe, Suzie, they’re too close. Maybe you need to look further afield. Maybe one of the Scottish colleges?’
Suzie pulls her hand away. ‘Are you trying to get rid of me?’ she snaps, immediately on the defensive.
‘No. I’m trying to help you get out of the box that’s crushing you. Tell me again, Suzie – when you look out at this view, what do you see? Really?’
Her daughter gazes out at the sea, at the cliffs, at the little village that is spread along it, lit up for the Millennium Party on the green. Molly just looks at her daughter, the most beautiful sight of all.
‘I see a place I want to leave,’ Suzie says quietly. ‘But a place I’m afraid to leave. God, that’s so stupid…’
‘No it’s not!’ her mum assures her. ‘We’re capable of feeling more than one thing at once. Look, let’s talk about it again tomorrow. Let’s sit down and look at those prospectuses you have, and make a decision. Together. How does that sound?’
‘It sounds not completely terrible.’
‘All right. I’ll settle for that. Now, I hate to be boring, but I’m not at all sure how I’m going to get down out of this tree…’
‘I told you you were too old. I’ll help you, I promise. It must be nearly midnight. Do you want to go back to the green and celebrate with everyone else?’
Molly smiles as she pictures the scenes back in the village. George and Simon had set up trestle tables full of food and drink, and the whole place was ready to party – adults, kids, dogs, possibly even a cat or two. Starshine does many things well, but it absolutely excels at celebrating.
George’s sister, who owns the Starshine Inn, has rigged up speakers that blast out music from the old juke box, and even from the woods you can hear it.
Currently, it’s the chorus of Prince’s ‘1999’ – possibly the most popular song on the planet on this particular night, as everyone prepares to say goodbye to the nineties and hello to a whole new era.
Assuming the Millennium Bug doesn’t wipe out humanity, that is.
‘You know what, I think I’m quite happy here, Suze. Let’s leave them to it, shall we, and have a little New Year all to ourselves?’
A smile of delight appears on Suzie’s face, and it warms Molly’s heart. A smile like that – pure, simple, unreserved – is more precious than anything else in the world. She’d miss a thousand parties and climb a thousand trees just to see it.
Suzie nods, and they sit together, legs dangling, as the clock ticks towards midnight.
When it does, the world explodes in a neon boom of fireworks, lighting the sky with streaks and flashes of gold, purple, green and red.
Not just from the village itself, but from all around the coast, and even out at sea.
It is dazzling and beautiful and majestic, the tiny pinpoints of bright light reflected in Suzie’s eyes as she looks on.
For once, she seems happy. She looks like she actually wants to be here.
That, Molly knows, is only because she now feels like she is going to escape.
Letting her go is necessary, but it’s also terrifying.
The world can be a cruel place, especially for young women, and all she can do as her mum is try and build her confidence and let her set sail on the adventure of her life.
George, of course, will also give her a whistle on a string to wear around her neck in case of emergencies.
As the fireworks fizz and flutter and the world moves on, Suzie turns back to her mother.
Everyone always says they look alike, which annoys Suzie – she wants to look like herself, and not be so tied up with someone else’s identity.
Still. It could be worse, she thinks. Her mum is actually really pretty for a woman in her early fifties.
‘I love you, Mum,’ she says, giving her fingers a quick squeeze. Molly tries to hide her surprise and her pleasure at the unexpected declaration, not wanting to ruin the moment by being all emotional.
‘I know. I love you, too. We all love you, Suzie.’
‘I guess. I mean, yes, I know that – but you’re the only one who understands me. Right. So, I suppose we better find a way down this tree…’
Ten years later
‘So what did you do then?’ Molly asks, once she’s managed to stop laughing.
Suzie shoots her a sideways look and replies: ‘What do you think I did? I locked him out of his car, drove it around the coast to Malaga, and then got the train to Valencia on my own. As far as I know, the cheating bastard is still standing in that sunflower field in nothing but his boxer shorts to this very day…’
Her mum’s tired eyes widen with glee, and she laughs some more.
The laughter turns into a coughing fit, and the coughing fit turns into an extended splutter, and both women spend the next few minutes dealing with the consequences.
Suzie lifts her mum’s frail body up and props it with more pillows, helping her suck up squash from a straw between her gasping breaths.
She smooths back her now-wispy red hair and pats her pale cheeks.
‘I need to stop telling you the juicy stories,’ she says, winking. ‘You’re too old.’
Molly places a weak hand over her daughter’s, and winks back. ‘You may be right. One more tale like that, Suze, and I’ll pop my clogs. I always said you’d be the death of me…’
‘I know. Next time I come in the room, I’ll make sure I wear my hooded robe for effect. Maybe borrow a scythe from one of the farmers.’
They share a smile, both hiding behind the gallows humour. Both needing to mock what is actually happening, because what is actually happening is too awful to fully acknowledge.
Suzie has been living back at home for the last month, helping to care for her sick mother.
After university in the North East, she embarked on a mammoth trip around Europe, working in bars and partying hard and occasionally volunteering at museums or tourist sites, just to prove to herself that her history degree wasn’t entirely wasted.
She’s very much followed in her mother’s footsteps, refusing to be tied down to one place or one experience, instead choosing to embrace all the joyous chaos of the world.
Until that phone call. Until her regular monthly check-in with the Starshine Cove contingent didn’t just bring news of yet another baby for her brother Simon and his wife Connie; or a new theatrical triumph for her am-dram loving little sister, Sandy; or a round-up of new pets in the village (though that was always one of the best bits).
Instead it brought news of the worst kind – lumps and scans and tests and treatments.
Of hopes and aims and encouraging odds that turned out to be a load of nonsense.
Suzie had flown home straight away, which surprised everybody apart from Molly.
She always knew that no matter how many fine adventures her wild offspring was having, she would abandon it all and come back when she found out.
It’s one of the reasons she didn’t tell her for so long – she wanted to try and beat this thing before she even had to mention it.
Except there was no beating this thing, and before too long a new reality dawned – one where saying goodbye was the last adventure they could share.
‘I didn’t want this for you, you know,’ Molly says, her voice still croaky.
Suzie pulls a face, settling in on the armchair next to her.
She glances at her phone, sees that it’s after three a.m. The witching hour.
She hears a toilet flushing upstairs in the cottage she grew up in, and knows their cackling probably woke her dad up.
Now he’ll be lying in bed, waiting for his shift – waiting for his time with the woman who was, is and always will be the love of his life. The woman he is losing.
‘Since when did I care what anybody else wanted?’ Suzie replies. ‘You know I was always the selfish one!’
‘No. You weren’t, darling. You were just the one who needed her freedom, and there’s nothing wrong with that.
I always loved that about you. Promise me this won’t break you.
And don’t make a joke of it, Suzie – look me in the eyes and promise me.
It’s bad enough that you’re back here emptying my commode and stealing my morphine—’
‘I am not stealing your morphine!’
‘Why ever not? Anyway. Like I said. Promise me. Promise me you’ll carry on having adventures for as long as you want to.
For as long as the wild hunt calls to you.
And then, when you’ve roamed long enough and far enough, you’ll come home – to this place, which I hope you don’t hate as much by then. ’
The effort has taken it out of her, and her voice gets quieter with each word. Suzie leans down to drop a gentle kiss on her forehead.
‘How will I know when I’ve roamed enough, though, Mum?’
‘You just will, sweetheart, you just will. Now. Promise me.’
Suzie relents, willing to do anything to give her mum some peace.
‘All right, all right… if it’ll stop you moaning, I promise. I won’t let this break me. Anyway. I’m here right now. And I’ll be here for as long as you need me. It was secretly always my life’s dream to be emptying your commode for you anyhow…’
Molly lets out a weak laugh, and her eyelids start to droop shut. Suzie sits at her side while she sleeps, for that night, and all the rest.
Until they run out of nights, and the unthinkable happens. Molly’s light finally goes out. And leaves the world a darker place.