Chapter 9 #2
She didn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. All she knew was that the knot of tension in her stomach eased slightly as he turned away. She had a feeling he was a human lie detector.
“Dad? Is everything okay?”
She walked to the door that led to the street, trying not to listen.
Yes, I know that … yes, you told me that already … I’ve got it covered …
His voice was gruff and low but surprisingly patient.
She stepped out onto the street into evening sunshine, feeling sympathy. She knew what it was like constantly trying to please a parent. To live up to high standards. It was tiring.
She frowned, wondering where that thought had come from.
It was true that her mother had high standards and expected a lot from her, but Abby knew it came from a place of love and caring.
Her mother had faced tough challenges during her life.
She’d done everything she could to ensure Abby’s future was as secure as possible and Abby was grateful for that.
Still, she was feeling increasingly frustrated that there were big gaps in her past she knew nothing about.
Maybe it was being here that was making her more aware of it.
Making her ask questions. Her mother had lived here.
She’d lived here. And she didn’t even know where.
Had they had a house? Had her mother lived in the hotel?
She understood why her mother was reluctant to talk about the loss she’d experienced, but surely something as simple as a place of residence shouldn’t be a no-go area?
“Abby!”
She looked up and saw Evie weaving between tourists, a pink hat jammed onto her head. She waved at Abby, dodged a couple with a toddler, narrowly avoided tripping over a dog’s lead, and arrived breathless and smiling.
“Sorry, am I late? It’s about five minutes to my house from here but always takes much longer.”
“Because of the crowds?”
“Partly, but mostly because I keep meeting people I know—”
“Evie!”
“You see what I mean?” Evie grinned at Abby and then stepped forward to hug the woman who had called her name. “Gayle. How are you doing? I tried calling you yesterday.”
“I know. I got your message. I was at the hospital having a follow-up. All good, touch wood. The chicken was delicious. How you had time to make that when you’re working fulltime I have no idea.”
“It’s one of my signature dishes. I could make it with my eyes shut, except then I’d probably burn myself.
Dad used to make it for me when I was sick and it was so comforting it was one of the first things I learned to cook for myself.
I lived on it when I was at college. It was how I made friends. ”
Abby didn’t believe that for a moment. Evie seemed the type that would pick up friends the way sticky tape picked up dust.
“You might have saved my life.” Gayle glanced curiously at Abby. “Hi there. I’m Gayle. I work in the dental surgery at the top of the hill.”
“This is Abby,” Evie introduced her. “She’s helping me out at the hotel.”
“Oh fun. Enjoy. Well, I should go, and thank you again, Evie. See you soon.”
Evie watched her go. “She’s had such a rough time.
Life can be like that, can’t it? Sometimes things are steady and then other times life pummels you.
Right. Let’s go. We’ll walk through the harbour because we don’t have much choice about that with this number of people, but the moment we hit that hill—” she pointed to the road rising up in the distance “—we’ll pick up the pace.
The coast path heads off to the right. It will only take us a couple of minutes to get there and then the crowds disappear.
Most people stay within a few steps of the harbour.
Have you seen Tristan? I forgot to ask you earlier. ”
“I bumped into him a few minutes ago, but he had to take a call from his dad.”
“Poor thing. His father is finding it difficult relinquishing control. Understandable I suppose, when you’ve built a business from the ground up.
The pub was in a state when he took it over.
Dark and dingy. Not exactly welcoming. Tristan’s dad transformed it.
Now it’s the place everyone likes to hang out in the winter.
They hold the book group there, and quiz night, and singing night, although they pay me not to go to that because I have a voice like a strangled seagull. ”
It took more than a couple of minutes to reach the other side of the harbour because Evie stopped to pet dogs, hug children and laugh with their parents. She knew every third person she passed and seemed up-to-date on all their lives.
Did you try that book?
What happened about your car? Did they find the person who did it? When are you going to Majorca?
Did Lissy pass her driving test? She did? Yay! I’ll be sure to look an extra time before I cross the road.
It was pretty clear to Abby that Evie wasn’t just wellknown in the community, she was central to it. And she could also see that being part of a close-knit community must bring added pressures. Everything you did came under scrutiny. If you failed at something, everyone knew. That had to be hard.
She tried, and failed, to picture her mother here, living as part of this small community, exchanging small talk about small details.
What had she been like back then? Her childhood had been tough, Abby knew that.
Her father, Abby’s grandfather, had walked out when she was eleven, leaving his only child to care for her ailing mother who had died when Alexandra was eighteen.
At eighteen she’d fallen in love with a man only to lose him before Abby was even born.
Whenever Abby thought of it her chest ached. Her mother had suffered so much tragedy by an age where most people were simply focusing on where to go to college.
Had she had the support of this community? What had happened exactly?
Abby assumed she’d never let herself love again, although it wasn’t something her mother would ever discuss. Her one attempt to ask her mother about her love life had been greeted with a frown.
Even when she asked about her father, her mother would say little.
You have to understand it was a painful and difficult time for me. But I had my business, and I had you.
Abby dodged a child on a scooter, wondering why she was thinking about her mother’s childhood now. It was so far in the past it had no relevance. Even if she did locate the house where her mother had lived, it wouldn’t answer any of her questions.
Eventually they made it down to the quaint harbour.
They ran past boats, lobster pots stacked haphazardly against a wall, fishing nets drying in the sun.
Evie yelled a cheerful greeting to a man tinkering with a boat and then they headed up the hill.
Although it was late the sun was still hot, and Abby was sweating by the time they turned onto the coast path.
Ahead of them the sea sparkled, a vast ocean of turquoise and aquamarine against a perfect blue sky.
“Brilliant, isn’t it?” Evie paused to take a gulp of water and admire the view.
“This is my favourite route. No matter how crowded it is in the harbour, it’s never crowded up here.
By the way, do you see that gorgeous sandy beach down below?
Don’t get too close to the edge!” She grabbed Abby’s arm as she stepped forward to get a better look.
“It is gorgeous, you’re right.”
“You can access it at low tide from the harbour. Otherwise the only way onto it is a steep path from the top.”
“Do you swim there?”
“People do, but I’m more of a runner. I like routine, and if you swim that’s dictated by the tides.”
“You run every day?”
“Yes, whenever I can. This is the reason I can eat my dad’s lasagne and the cinnamon buns from the bakery.” Evie clipped the lid back on her bottle. “I need to show you where that is. You’ll thank me.”
“I’m already thanking you.” Abby gazed at the view. “This is spectacular.” She dug her phone out of her pocket and took a few photos.
Rugged cliffs plunged steeply into the sparkling sea, calm now but she could imagine how wild it could get when the weather changed.
The cliffs were jagged and unforgiving, the channel into the harbour narrow and curved.
“Were there many shipwrecks around here?”
“Oh yes, plenty. It’s a diver’s paradise. The views are even better from the top.”
Abby followed Evie along the trail that hugged the coast-line, mindful of the steep drop to her right. The path wound through long grasses, through carpets of wild flowers shading the cliffs purple and pink.
They passed a couple of other people but apart from that their only company on the cliffs were sea-birds and butterflies. They ran to a viewpoint high on a headland where Evie stopped to take a breath.
“You get a good view of the beach from here—” She gestured to a smooth crescent of creamy sand far below them. “The tide can come in fast, and there are sometimes rip currents, so you need to be careful. I’ll take you there at the weekend if you like. Do you swim?”
“I love to swim, although normally it’s laps of the pool where I live or whichever hotel I’m staying in.”
Evie sat down on the grass, keeping a respectful distance from the edge of the cliff. “So how does that work? You travel a lot?”
“Not always. Sometimes I’m in one place for a while. It’s the way I like it.”
“You don’t want to put down roots?” Evie took another glug of water. “Settle somewhere?”
“Home is Boston. I have an apartment.”
“But you don’t want to take a job where you’re in one place? Travelling must be fun, but also exhausting. I’m not sure it would work for me.” She pulled off her hat and ran her fingers through her damp hair. “Do you have family in Boston?”
Abby was beginning to wish they hadn’t stopped for a rest. “My mother.”
“That’s nice. You see a lot of each other?”
Most days at work.
“We often meet up on Friday nights. Dinner.” That was true, after all.