Chapter 25
25
The morning of Iris and Hugh’s wedding, my innate Parsley’s alarm clock woke me at four-thirty.
My first thought was a ripple of joy that I’d be seeing Pip that day. I immediately pushed away the dismay that followed, knowing it would probably be the last time I ever saw him. I wasn’t going to allow that to spoil the remainder of my island adventure.
My next thought was to check my phone. I wasn’t surprised to find Gregory had already replied, the email sent at one that morning. It was a long one. He covered all bases in trying to persuade me to change my mind, including warning that I’d never find another offer as good as at the airport, and would be bankrupt before I’d had the chance to build up a profitable business anywhere else. He also begged me to stay, offering to discuss a rent discount that I knew would make the other vendors riot, and threw in two paragraphs of melodramatic flattery, describing in great detail how the airport food and beverage offering had suffered without me. After a vague threat about the fine for failing to open on Sunday, the final day of the current contract, questioning whether it was even legal for me to back out of renewing my lease at this late stage, he then finished off by stating I could shove my pasties up my own cockpit. I had no idea what that meant, other than writing an email in the middle of the night probably wasn’t the wisest idea.
I decided to allow him a couple of days to apologise before I replied. I was aware of the fine I’d have to pay for Sunday, and had enough to cover it in my savings. Instead of opening up on Sunday, I’d spend the day clearing out the kiosk instead.
Now wide awake, I showered, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt – not ideal catering wear by any means, but it was already pushing twenty degrees outside, and I wouldn’t survive a day in the kitchen in jeans – and savoured a mug of tea in the garden, with the bliss of knowing that, for the foreseeable future, I could enjoy as many mornings like this as I chose.
I phoned Blessing at five-fifteen. The news about Parsley’s would be all over the airport, so I needed to catch her before she set off for the early shift.
‘I hope you’re calling at this time because you’ve not been to bed yet,’ she croaked.
‘I’m catering the wedding today, remember? I think my body automatically clicked back into the Parsley’s schedule. I woke up an hour before my alarm.’
‘Ugh. I suppose I’ll allow it given that you’ll be spending most of the day with Hot Farmer. But it doesn’t explain why you’re calling me.’
‘I have some big news.’
‘Oh. My. Goodness. You boffed him, didn’t you? Did he confess that he loves you? Ask you to be Mrs Hot Farmer?’
‘No! None of those things. I told you none of those things are going to happen. It’s about Parsley’s…’
I hastily explained to Blessing that I was still coming home on Friday, but I wouldn’t be coming back to work. She shocked me by crying.
‘I’m changing things up, though. I know it’s not the same as seeing each other every day, but if we hung out more outside the airport, we can get to know each other properly, have some real fun.’
‘What, more fun than discussing the inspiration behind Barb’s latest eyeshadow and blusher combo?’ She sniffed. ‘What if you don’t want to be friends with me now you’re a carefree, wild spirit about to embark on unknown adventures, and I’m back to being a saddo sharing an underwear drawer with her teenage sister?’ She paused to blow her nose. ‘You’ll be far too busy to hang out with me. Oh, which reminds me, we’ve got a family thing on Friday evening so I might struggle to get all moved out after work. When do you need me gone by?’
‘Um… how about never?’
There was a long pause.
‘Do you mean I can stay? Forever?’
‘Well, I hope it won’t be forever. Didn’t you say you were desperate to get married at some point?’
Blessing squealed so loudly, I dropped my phone.
‘You aren’t serious?’ I could still hear her as I bent to pick it up. ‘Are you serious? Emmie, don’t joke with me about this. You have no idea. Honestly, if you were joking then now you have to let me stay anyway and never admit you didn’t mean it, because if you make me go back now, I’ll never recover.’
‘I can’t believe I didn’t ask you to move in with me ages ago.’
‘Neither can I. I’ve only been dropping hints for the past year.’
‘It never would have crossed my mind that you’d want to live with me.’
‘What, because I’m such a loser?’
‘Because I’m a total loser.’
‘Emmie, what? Hang on. I need to go so I’m transferring you to the car phone.’ A couple of seconds later, she reconnected, voice slightly fuzzy from the speaker. ‘You own your own house and business at twenty-six, and don’t give a crap what anybody thinks. And you’re the loser?’
‘I give a crap what everyone thinks!’
‘Then why do you wear those clothes, and… be like you are?’
‘Because I give most of a crap about what Mum thinks. No. Scrap that.’ I stood up and started walking down the garden. The grass was damp with dew, the birds a full-on symphony all around me. I sucked in a deep breath and made sure I meant what I said next. ‘I did care, more than anything, what she thought. But I’m closing Parsley’s, so I guess I now care more about what I think.’
‘Wowee. Hold the line on that thought, Emmie.’
‘What?’
‘Keep caring most about what you think. I mean, when it comes to being you, and what you want. Obviously care about what other people think, too. Like, me, when it comes to my woeful living situation and how much I want to properly be your actual, real friend. But I’m so down with you finally thinking about what you want.’
We chatted a bit more, about Blessing moving the rest of her things over to my – our – house, and how I was genuinely very happy for her to have Mum’s old bedroom, once I’d got back and emptied it, so we could redecorate.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’m nearly at the airport, but before I go, what are you wearing to this wedding? I don’t suppose there’s loads of clothes shops over there.’
‘Definitely not ones that sell catering uniforms. I’m in the shorts and blue top.’
There was a moment of silence.
‘You’re wearing shorts? To a wedding? Where the man you’ve been crushing on for two years will be in attendance? I thought you were over trying to please Nell?’
‘I am…’
‘Then what the hell, Emmie ?’
‘I’m baking pasties all day. What did you expect me to wear?’
‘You aren’t going to the reception, once all the baking is done?’
‘No. I’m not invited to the reception. I’ll be too busy clearing up, anyway.’
‘Excuse me?’
I was momentarily confused by that response, as it seemed to have an echo, until Lily appeared at my side with another mug of tea, and I realised that she and Blessing had both said the same thing.
‘Of course you’re invited to the wedding!’ Lily exclaimed, before leaning closer to my phone and yelling, ‘She is invited!’
‘Good to hear it,’ Blessing huffed. ‘Look, I’m heading to Security. Call me later when you’ve decided what you’re really wearing. No, send me a photo. No – do both. Photo then call. I love you, bye!’
Lily shoved the mug at me so that she could put both hands on her hips and stare me down properly.
‘I know you’ve only been here a week, Emmie. But haven’t you figured out anything about how we do things around here yet? You don’t need an invitation to the wedding that is only happening because you’ve stepped in to cater at the last minute. Of course you’re coming. The students we’ve hired to waiter are clearing up. As soon as the last tray of pasties is out the oven, I expect to see you in the Old Barn.’
‘I can’t… I’m not sure…’ I stopped, took a breath. Remembered who I was trying to be now, and decided that I should go, so I would. ‘Thank you, that would be lovely.’
‘Perfect.’ Lily smiled, enjoying the view for a moment before snapping her head around to look at me. ‘What are you going to wear? If you didn’t think you were invited, then you won’t have sorted anything. Unless you happened to squeeze a just-in-case outfit into your suitcase?’
‘No. I didn’t. I have the long sundress I wore the other day, but it’s not clean.’
‘It’s lovely, but not wedding-worthy.’ She smiled. ‘Not a “finally convince my brother to convince you to at the very least have one night of romance” outfit, anyway.’
‘I don’t think I want an outfit like that.’
‘Yeah.’ Lily scrunched up her nose. ‘Sorry, but I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, so I don’t think that’s true. I mean, he’d be happy to give it a try if you were wearing Mammaw’s old dressing gown and wellies, but he needs to know you want him to try, given that, for reasons nobody can fathom, you both pretended you didn’t.’
I tried to come up with an argument against this, but I really didn’t have much brain power left for making arguments that in my heart of hearts I didn’t quite believe in.
Given that this was the new, own-what-you-really-want Emmie, I might as well admit to myself that what I really wanted was a dance, a kiss, or some sort of romantic moment with Pip before I left. Wouldn’t it be easier to start my new life, knowing that one of my impossible dreams had already come true?
Lily narrowed her eyes at me.
‘Celine probably has something you can borrow.’
‘No, I couldn’t,’ I said, far too quickly. ‘I mean, we’re completely different sizes.’
‘Hmm. I don’t think Iris or Violet will have anything that fits you, either. I have one pretty dress, but I’ve worn it to so many things, everyone will know you’ve borrowed it. Ooh!’ She grabbed my arm so hard, I nearly spilled the rest of my tea. ‘I think I have the answer.’
She trotted inside before I had time to ask what, but had to trust that whatever she came up with would be better than crumpled shorts.
The kids had been granted the afternoon off school, but Flora and Jack had to go in for the morning, despite their protests. As soon as Malcolm had set off, Lily and I cycled to the farmhouse to add the boxes of freshly delivered flowers to the other decorations before I headed to the kitchen and Lily took the rest of the flowers over to the church.
The barn bustled like an August Saturday in the airport. Borrowed tables and chairs of various shapes and sizes had been set out earlier, and Rosemary and Violet were now adding brightly patterned tablecloths. Richard and Hugh’s parents were following behind with wine glasses, forks and napkins. Others were hanging up the bridal-shower bunting and strings of lights, offloading drinks and more glasses onto a makeshift bar or doing a final sweep of the floor.
I spotted Celine in one corner, arranging photos of Iris and Hugh on a table, along with a postbox for cards and a guest book. Swallowing back the nausea constricting my throat, I wondered whether there was a lock on the kitchen door, and if it would be rude if I used it.
‘Could anyone have come up with a better choice of meal for a home-made wedding?’
I turned to find Gabe standing next to me, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans, a soft smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. ‘When Rosemary and I wed, we thought sandwiches and sausage rolls would keep things simple, but it still left us with a hundred-and-twenty dirty plates. Hot, filling food you can eat with your fingers, no washing-up necessary? Pasties are perfect.’
‘I hope they turn out okay. It’s always a bit of a risk, using slightly different ingredients and a strange oven.’
‘Pah. You’ll be fighting off future orders by the end of the night.’
‘Well, once people know I’m heading back tomorrow, that should deter any bookings. It’d cost a lot more if I had to include flights and accommodation.’
Gabe nodded. ‘Well, we can only see what happens. Although, I’m glad you’ve not discounted the idea altogether. It’d be grand to have you visit again, some time.’
‘I’m not discounting much at this point,’ I said. ‘I’ve decided to close the kiosk.’
Gabe raised his eyebrows, his gaze searching my face.
‘It’s this place,’ he said, with a knowing nod as if he’d found what he was looking for. ‘Has a way of helping people see things they didn’t before. Changes your perspective. Some say it’s how the light refracts off the cliff-tops that opens your eyes. Or the sea air, clearing out all the gubbins in your head. Others put it down to pure island magic.’
‘Maybe it’s all of those things,’ I said, kneeling down to unpack a box of irises. ‘I think, for me, it’s the lack of distractions. Limited Wi-Fi. Less background busyness bombarding me all day. Plus, time to think, and space to be.’ I picked up a pair of Lily’s scissors and began snipping the ends off the stems. ‘I love it here, as I’m sure most people do. Although, I can understand why it wouldn’t suit everyone.’
Gabe opened another box, this one with lilies, and joined me. ‘Your mother, you mean?’
I nodded, a sudden lump in my throat making it difficult to reply.
‘You read the letters?’
‘Yes.’
‘You probably have questions, then.’
I looked at him, surprised. Gabe had been married to Rosemary for a long time. I hadn’t expected him to want to restart the conversation about his first wife.
‘I’ve heard about every remotely interesting happening relating to the past two generations of Hawkinses, plus plenty of stories that aren’t.’ Gabe’s face softened. ‘I can’t imagine not knowing my family’s history, where I came from.’
I thought about Kennedy Swan, my birth mother, and the unknown man who fathered me. Unlike all the other times, I wondered whether I should do something to find out more of her – my – story.
‘There’s a lot the letters don’t say,’ I replied, dragging my thoughts back to the woman who had been my mother in every way that mattered.
‘You’re flying back in the morning?’
I nodded, snipping the last stem in the box.
‘Let’s find fifteen minutes or so later today, then. Now’s not really the time or place.’
‘Thank you.’ It was clear in my voice how much I meant it. If things had worked out differently, perhaps Gabe would have been my stepfather. The thought of his gentle, easy-going nature being there to alleviate Mum’s stern severity brought tears to my eyes.
But when I turned away to compose myself under the guise of fetching another box of flowers, I spotted Pip approaching the barn, and I had to appreciate that if Gabe and Mum had stayed together, there’d be no Pip – or his sisters – so things had worked out for the best.
‘Hey.’ It was embarrassingly obvious how he ignored everyone else and walked straight up to me.
‘Hi.’ I ducked my flushing face over the new box, fiddling with the parcel tape.
‘Philip,’ Gabe said, not bothering to keep the amusement from his voice.
‘Oh, hi, Da. What can I do to help?’
‘Your sister is in charge; I’m only here to do what I’m told.’
‘Which one?’
‘I’ve no idea. I daren’t ask.’
‘Lily?’ Pip called. ‘What do you need me to do?’
‘Those flowers want arranging into ten vases for the tables.’ Lily marched over. ‘Da, will you help me over here, please?’
‘Over where?’ Gabe got up, brushed his knees off and tried to work out what Lily’s vague hand gesture had been waving at.
‘Over anywhere that means Pip and Emmie can have some space,’ Lily hissed, loud enough to cause Celine, now hanging photographs near the barn entrance, to stiffen.
‘I’m sorry,’ Pip said, shaking his head with an embarrassed smile. ‘I have tried telling them.’
‘Once you islanders make your mind up about something, you really stick to it.’ I offered what I hoped was a light-hearted eye-roll in return.
‘Yeah,’ Pip muttered. ‘Something, or someone.’
Kneeling beside him on an old horse-rug, as I snipped and stripped the different flowers of their lower leaves, and Pip arranged them in the vases, that comment hovered between us like a cloud of static electricity. I had never been so acutely aware of another human being’s presence (not even when Mum stood over my shoulder the first time she let me roll out pastry).
It felt like the culmination of every conversation we’d had at Parsley’s, each sentence treasured like a precious stone. The thrill of racing through the airport, knowing he’d be on the first aeroplane I’d ever set foot on. Him jumping out of his truck to give me a lift to his sister’s, the picnic, the walks, all that talking but then the comfort of companionable silence… It all grew into a realisation as glorious as the sunsets we’d watched over the sparkling Siskin sea.
I didn’t want to say goodbye to this man.
For the next hour or so, as we quietly got on with our task, I thought about his dad’s revelation in the second letter he’d written to Mum.
With every passing minute, I grow more convinced that this is that indescribable, mysterious force which others name ‘true love’.
This wasn’t a silly crush on the first lovely man to show any real interest in me as a person.
It wasn’t a holiday thing.
The way my heart trembled, my skin burned when his arm brushed against mine…
It was definitely not a nice friendship.
Once the thought crept into my head, it was so obvious, I couldn’t focus on anything else.
With every beat of my heart, I grew more convinced .
I was falling in love with Pip.
Thud, thump, thud.
I love Pip. I love Pip. I love Pip…
The only thing I was uncertain about now was what to do about it.