Chapter 28
28
For want of anything better to do, I followed Pip’s advice, retrieving the dress from under the stairs and going back to the shower room to change. I could produce nothing more than a hollow sob when, after putting it on, I found one of the delicate mesh sleeves had been ripped away from the seam.
‘I suppose mainlanders don’t know how to put dresses on without tearing them, either,’ I muttered, bitterly.
Sinking onto the closed toilet seat, I dropped my head into my hands and surrendered to the sheer awfulness of my situation.
How on earth had I ended up here?
What was I thinking, freeloading a holiday off a family and then spending the whole week tagging along to things as if pretending to be one of them?
Inserting myself into Pip’s life, despite his deranged ex hating me enough to deliberately sabotage her best friend’s wedding just to make me look bad. Never mind the bird poop or nasty messages.
How did I convince myself that I was the kind of woman who could handle a strange place, with people I didn’t know, no plan whatsoever, and somehow not make a complete mess of it?
After years of bleak loneliness, during the past few days, I’d started to embrace the joy of being a part of something. A way of life where people waded right on into your business, caring meant sharing, and no one questioned that the beating heart of a healthy community was admitting they were better together.
I had genuinely started to feel at home here.
Now, sitting on a cracked old toilet, in a ruined dress that belonged to a woman I felt scared of, while a few metres away, rumours spiralled about my catering incompetence, no doubt fuelled by a person who despised me, I had never felt so alone or longed more to be sitting at my usual food-court table, eating a bowl of lentil soup.
I’d left my phone in the kitchen, so had no idea how long I sat there, sobbing pitifully, until I was startled by a loud knock on the door.
‘All right in there? Or will I have to drag myself to the bathroom upstairs?’
Great. Richard was probably the second-to-last person I wanted to see right then. He was still a footnote on my suspect list – the only other name, now I’d discarded Aster.
‘One moment,’ I croaked back.
I blew my nose, splashed cold water on my blotchy face and tried to unzip myself, but the awkward hook at the top of the bodice was stuck.
Even greater. Now I’d have to ask a sinister old man who suspected I was here to cause trouble to undo the precious dress his mother had preserved for decades, and I’d wrecked in minutes.
After another few seconds hovering about in case I woke up from this nightmare, I reluctantly opened the door, my shorts and T-shirt clutched to my chest. My plan was to slip past him and reach my phone, but he had planted himself right in front of the doorway.
‘Didn’t answer my question.’
‘What?’
Richard’s gaze remained impassive. ‘Are you all right?’
I blinked a few times, eyes darting across the floor between us. He looked less daunting in his crumpled suit and wonky tie. ‘Um…’
‘There’s a rip in your sleeve.’
‘I know. I feel terrible. I could say that I honestly don’t think it was me, but I’ve denied so many things over the past few days, I probably already sound like someone with a pathological lying problem. To say I’m dreading what your mother will say is an understatement.’
‘What’s she got to do with it?’
‘This is the dress she wore to your father’s funeral.’
Richard scratched his beard. ‘We’d best fix it, then.’
I boggled at him, astounded.
‘If you’d be kind enough to vacate the bathroom, first, so a crippled old codger can use it.’
After more awkward dialogue, and an excruciating eon where his careworn farmer’s fingers fumbled at the hook, hot breath huffing on my neck, I swapped back into my own outfit and trailed after Richard into the office, noting that someone had chopped up and served most of the cake while I was bawling in the bathroom.
He rummaged in a drawer, then handed me a spool of white cotton and a needle. ‘Thread this for me.’
‘You can sew?’
‘Seems as good a time as any to give it a try.’ He glanced up, and for the first time, I saw warmth flicker behind his watery blue eyes. I risked a weak smile at what I hoped was a joke.
‘Yes, I can sew,’ he said as I handed back the threaded needle. ‘Skin, mostly. Mine, and plenty of animals’. But every Siskin farmer knows how to patch a hole or mend a tear.’
I suspected the quality of needlework required to sew up a hole in a farmer’s jacket was not quite the same as a satin gown. But given my current reputation, at least it wouldn’t be me butchering the repair job.
‘You’re leaving tomorrow.’ Richard squinted at the sleeve as he held it up to the light.
‘Yes.’
‘Probably best.’
He made a bold stab at the fabric, and I flinched.
‘Unless… you’ve reasons to stay that don’t include stirring up the past.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Reckon you’ve fallen for my nephew.’
As someone who was entirely unused to sharing my feelings, confessing them to Richard seemed no less bizarre than the rest of this situation.
‘I think I might have.’
‘Think?’ He glanced up, sharply.
‘Know.’
‘But can you fall for this place? His family? Our way of doing things?’ He went back to deftly dipping the needle in and out. ‘Pip loves the farm as much as the rest of us. You might persuade him to give it up, if you don’t want to stay. But don’t try unless you’re sure you’re worth it.’
Of course I wasn’t sure about that. But it really wasn’t relevant. Because, secret bully aside, I adored it here. The island, the farm, the Hawkins family. It had been love at first sight. Or, more accurately, at first breath of sweet, salty air.
I had no business, a trustworthy tenant for my house and nothing else to miss.
I wasn’t about to try persuading Pip about anything, but I couldn’t help hoping he’d be happy if I didn’t catch tomorrow’s flight.
‘We both know how badly it can turn out.’
‘What can?’ I asked as Richard tied off the thread and flipped the dress back right-side out.
‘Mainlander and islander.’ He looked at me. ‘Your mother and my brother.’
I let out a slow breath.
‘How did you know it was me?’
‘I told you, I got eyes.’
‘She wasn’t even my mother. My mum was her cousin.’
‘Close enough. Couldn’t be a coincidence, strawberry-hair, green-eyed girl turning up here. Talking about her mother. I shared a house with Nellie for a long time. Same mannerisms, way of speaking.’
‘And you drove her away again.’ My throat constricted at the memory of the letters.
‘Not me. I’d nothing against her. She tried hard, no complaining. Was a decent match for Gabe. It was our parents made it impossible, forced her out. All that nonsense about an heir, like she was another heifer to be bred. Backfired on them when Gabe went too, though.’
‘You think Gabe shouldn’t have left the island? And neither should Pip?’
He shrugged. ‘Didn’t say that. I just said know what you’re asking. Your mother learned that, when it came down to it, Gabe had to put the farm first.’
I accepted the dress from him, running my fingers along the mended seam. It wasn’t perfect, but about as close as hand-sewing could get.
‘Do you think I could handle it here?’
Richard chuffed. I think it was his version of laughing. ‘Don’t matter what I think.’
‘Then it doesn’t matter how you answer.’
‘You cleaned the crap off the barn, no grumbling.’
I nodded.
‘Yes, I reckon you could be an islander. More importantly, will the rest of them allow you to be?’
I held up the dress. ‘Your family have been more than welcoming. I need to talk to Gabe, though. He doesn’t want anyone knowing who I am.’ I hesitated. ‘And whoever ripped the sleeve might make it difficult. It’s not their only attempt to scare me off.’
Richard made a dismissive grunt. ‘Once that girl knows Pip’s made his choice, she’ll soon move on. Too much pride to compete with a done deal.’
I sat back, slightly gobsmacked at where a conversation with Richard had ended up. ‘I could postpone my flight home for a while, at least.’
Um, what? Was I really thinking about ditching everything I’d ever known for an island I’d never even seen a week ago?
Who was I kidding? Deep down, beneath the sensible, reliable Emmaline Brown, I’d been thinking about this since Pip Hawkins first came to my rescue, almost two years ago.
‘I’ll let you get changed.’ Richard pulled himself up using his cane and started limping to the door.
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘For the dress, and the advice.’
He looked down at his rumpled trouser leg. ‘Reckon I owe you one. Seeing as it was my damn leg wrecked your mother’s marriage.’