Chapter 37
37
I blocked every site I could think of relating to the Isle of Siskin, and buried myself even deeper in work, what had become weekly lunches with my cousin Layla, plus some or all of her three kids, and even joined a local conservation group (I was the youngest member by at least two decades, to Blessing’s disappointment, but they were all welcoming and I loved spending my day off scooping gubbins out of ditches or counting crayfish).
Blessing sprang a short break in Rome on me, as it was ‘the least islandish place we could fly to for under a hundred quid’. We spent two full days exploring the standard tourist sights, researching ideas for new recipes and mastering the art of afternoon siestas. I even accepted a chaste kiss from one of the many men who flirted with us at the hotel bar, and flew home feeling as contented and positive as I’d been since my first holiday.
Heading to catch the flight out, we’d been held up by a traffic accident so had sped through the airport with no more than a gleeful wave at the familiar faces. We could only ogle the new juice and pretzel bar from a distance as we scrambled to reach Gate One before it closed.
However, on our return journey, it would have been rude not to say hello to some of the colleagues we’d spent years working with. Giddy with holiday vibes, we bought a smoothie each, one cheese and one chocolate pretzel, and headed over to see who was hanging around at the food court.
Barb soon appeared, briskly informing Blessing that her hair clearly didn’t suit the Rome climate, before launching into a lengthy rant about the third assistant manager since Blessing. She was flabbergasted at the previous two’s ingratitude in resigning after only a few days, spurning the decent salary, flexible shifts and Barb’s expert input.
‘Can you imagine?’ she asked, at least three times, until Blessing snapped and told her that, having stuck it out for thirteen years, she didn’t have to imagine why someone wouldn’t want to be criticised, controlled and complained at all day.
After making a hasty exit from the food court, we bumped into Gregory.
‘Ah, Emmie. Very good. You got my message, then?’ He shook his head. ‘If you want to follow me, they should be in one of the filing cabinets.’
‘Um, what should?’ I asked as we hurried after him.
‘The mail. I would have forwarded it on, but, well, I didn’t get around to it.’
After opening and closing a few drawers, he handed me a pile of envelopes held together by an elastic band. A quick flick through revealed most of them to be business junk mail, so I could understand why Gregory hadn’t prioritised posting them on. There was a letter with my insurance company’s logo on it, but they’d also emailed so I hadn’t missed anything important.
And then, tucked inside a catering catalogue, was a handwritten letter, addressed to the more informal Emmie Brown.
‘I’ll read it in the car,’ I said, seeing Blessing’s eyes go round.
‘Let’s go.’
As soon as Blessing had pulled out of the airport and hit the main road, I opened the envelope with trembling hands. I knew all too well that a letter could change everything.
Dear Emmie,
I know you asked me to let you go. You said we can’t be friends, and I understand that. I don’t think I could ever spend time with you and not want more. But I couldn’t leave things the way they ended. Violet said I seemed angry with you. That’s not true. I was very, very angry with Ma. I was mad at Da for the secrets and lies. I was devastated that during what I’d thought was a perfect week, you’d been going through all that alone. I felt like a fool. Which made me furious at myself.
And all those things piling on top of each other stopped me from saying what I needed to that evening. Which is that I’m so sorry, for all of it. I’m sorry if for one moment you felt unwelcome here. As if your history, my family’s mistakes, meant you couldn’t stay.
What should have been the best adventure ended up a trial by Hawkins jury.
I don’t know what else to say, except that I have missed you every day since you left. Everything feels off without you. My sisters can’t bear my grumpiness any longer and have ordered me to do something about it.
I won’t ask you to come back, not if it risks you being hurt again.
If you don’t reply to this, I understand, and I won’t try to contact you again.
But I needed to tell you that I’m sorry.
And I meant everything in the treehouse.
I still do.
Pip
I dropped my head onto the glove compartment with an agonising groan.
‘When did he send that?’ Blessing asked, after I’d read the letter aloud.
I checked the date at the top. ‘August. About a month after I’d come home.’
‘Then it wasn’t a knee-jerk reaction. What are you going to do?’
‘Ugh. I’ve been working so hard at moving on.’
She gave me a side glance.
‘Okay. I’ve been starting to do a teensy bit better. And this doesn’t change anything, does it? He’s still there, I’m here. His mum hates me. I’m evil mainlander Nell’s daughter.’ I swallowed. ‘But it was kind of him to apologise. It’s nice to know he doesn’t blame me for any of it.’
‘No reply, then? Pressing on with option one?’
‘Option one.’
In the first week in December, we set out to another event, which Blessing had booked at the last minute and vaguely described as a family celebration. Due to my attention being on avoiding the potholes on an unpaved country lane, it was only as we reached the farm gates that I spotted the banner.
‘Is this a sick joke?’
‘Um,’ Blessing said. ‘They said to go around the side to the back field. Someone will be there to meet us.’
‘Okay, what I meant to say is, have you booked us a graduation party for the course where the man I’m trying my utmost to get over has just graduated from?’
The sign read:
Congratulations Agriculture Graduates
She squirmed in the passenger seat. ‘There are loads of different agriculture courses. Grad parties are a whole new potential revenue stream. This one will be full of hungry young farmers, so they paid extra. I couldn’t turn it down.’
‘What happened to us only doing bookings we’re both comfortable with?’
‘Sometimes comfort is overrated.’
I pulled up beside a large outbuilding and found the university website on my phone.
‘The only agricultural graduation ceremony is today.’
‘Yes, but this is for the bachelor’s degrees, not post-grad courses. I think you’re probably safe.’
‘And if I’m not?’ I squeaked. ‘I thought the Siskin Islanders were meddlers. This is a whole new level of butting in.’
‘Okay, I’m sorry,’ Blessing started, before backtracking. ‘Actually, I’m not. What’s the point of a best friend if we can’t meddle when necessary? The whole social media ban isn’t working. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever if you saw him face to face.’
‘How could that possibly help?’ I whined.
‘Closure,’ she said, firmly. ‘He’s only a man, Emmie. Perhaps you need to remind yourself of that.’
‘Well, I hope you’ll be okay with picking up the pieces if this all backfires.’
‘Naturally.’ She pointed through the windscreen. ‘There, that must be Joel. Let’s get to work.’
Once a giant bonfire had been lit, the graduates and their families began to arrive, frequently leaving the warmth of the blaze to wander our way in search of food. It was fair to say that it wasn’t our finest evening.
Or, more accurately, it wasn’t mine. I was a total wreck from the moment I’d turned off the engine and clambered out of the cab. Spilled drinks, dropped pasties, incorrect orders. When the first stream of guests had eased off, Blessing tried reassigning me to the non-customer side of the operation, keeping me facing away from the hatch so I couldn’t agonisingly scan every single partygoer as they emerged from SUVs, taxis and pickup trucks, but it didn’t help. I was a shaking, quaking, lovelorn bag of anxious nerves.
I didn’t know whether to wish Pip would turn up so the torture could be over and done with, or if it was better to not see him, hopefully producing a different sort of closure that might be equally helpful.
It showed how keen Blessing was to infiltrate the graduation party market that she took a load of pictures of my stricken face as I put together a carton of nachos and posted it on our social media accounts.
In the end, after three hours of serving loaded fries, pasties and cakes to increasingly rowdy guests, I began to relax.
‘He’d be here by now, if he was coming,’ I finally conceded, slumping against the counter as fireworks whizzed and wailed in a field behind us.
‘There you go, then. All that stress for nothing,’ my business partner pronounced. ‘Maybe this shows just how silly it is to let a man you never want to see again hold such sway over you.’
‘Hmm.’
Maybe. But when, a few minutes later, a minivan screeched around the side of the farmyard, kicking up gravel as it came to an abrupt stop, my heart lurched for the hundredth time that evening.
The door opened, and one of my nightmares came true when my sworn enemy sprang out.
‘It’s her!’ Rosemary yelled, holding onto a wide-brimmed, cream hat to stop it blowing off her head. ‘Violet, you were right. It’s Emmie!’
Then, before I could duck behind the counter, choose an appropriate weapon or make a run for it, the other van doors opened and the rest of the Hawkins family tumbled out.
I vaguely registered sisters, their children and grandmother along with Gabe and his brother. But, of course, my eyes could only lock on one man.
Pip was in the suit he’d worn for Iris’s wedding underneath a heavy wool coat. He took three steps towards the food truck, then stopped.
If I’d been in any doubt, made any progress in my mission to get over this man, seeing him standing there blew that illusion into oblivion like the final firecracker exploding above us.
‘Emmie?’ Pip’s voice was full of wonder.
‘Pip. Hi.’ Mine, on the other hand, sounded as if it had been generated by an early AI prototype.
‘We saw you on Instagram,’ he said, as if that explained what on earth he was doing here.
‘We were at the airport, about to get on the plane, when Auntie Violet found it,’ Flora said, breathless with excitement.
I stole a quick glance at Blessing, whose knowing grin confirmed that she’d deliberately posted the images in the hare-brained hope this would happen.
‘We’ve been looking for you everywhere !’ Jack added, jumping up and down so that his flapping coat revealed the bare chest underneath. ‘We even had to go to the actual Sherwood Forest, because Auntie Iris saw a food van on the website and thought it was you.’
His auntie shrugged. ‘A reviewer said it was the best pasty they’d ever eaten. Who else could it be?’
‘We’re only there at weekends,’ I said, still in shock.
‘That explains it, then.’ Violet nodded, cradling a baby in a puffy snowsuit against her chest.
‘Why are you here?’ I asked, because it still wasn’t any clearer.
‘To find you!’ Beanie squealed, clutching her grandad Gabe’s hand. Most of her face was hidden by a giant bobble hat, but I couldn’t believe how much she’d grown.
‘We’re probably going to miss our plane now, but Grammie said we all had to come or you wouldn’t listen to her,’ Jack added.
‘Is an adult going to fill Emmie in, or are we leaving it up to my kids to convince her?’ Lily asked.
‘Feel free to explain everything,’ Blessing replied.
Lily shook her head. She looked gorgeous in an A-line, turquoise coat and matching boots, her dark hair gleaming.
‘It’s not up to me. Emmie knows how much I love her. It’s for Pip, Ma and Da to put the rest of us out of our misery by making this right.’
‘Philip?’ Rosemary asked, tentatively.
‘No, Ma.’ He went over and took her hand, drawing her closer to the food truck. ‘If you say what you need to first, the rest of you can still catch the plane. I can follow on later, if Emmie is kind enough to spare me a few more minutes.’
‘Right.’ Rosemary straightened her hat, tugged at the belt on her matching jacket, pulled up her handbag strap and tried valiantly to look at me.
‘Shall we find somewhere quieter?’ I asked, dying to get this over with as quickly as possible so she would go, and I could hear from Pip.
‘No.’ Rosemary straightened up. ‘They all know why I’m here. Which is to tell you that, you see… I’m sorry.’
‘Okay.’ Was that it?
‘I behaved abominably.’ She stopped, screwing up her face as though holding back a sneeze, before shaking her shoulders and pressing on. ‘Appallingly. There’s not much more to say, really. I was consumed with some sort of jealous madness. But I’m on medication now, and having lots of help. It’s working. I haven’t spiked anyone’s milk jug in months.’
She gave a weak laugh, which was greeted by a grim silence. ‘Too soon?’
‘Yes, it’s too soon,’ Violet gasped.
‘Anyway, what I needed to explain, apart from how sorry I am, is that if you came back, looking to spend more time with Philip, I won’t stand in your way.’
‘Rosemary.’ Gabe spoke for the first time, his tone sharp enough to make me flinch.
‘What I mean is, you would be very welcome. I would very much like the chance to get to know Nell’s daughter properly. We can talk about it, about her, if you like. Or not, if you don’t. Stay for a holiday – we’ll cover the cost. Or forever. I completely respect and support whatever you decide.’
‘Okay, that’s probably enough, Ma,’ Pip interrupted, glancing at me for confirmation.
‘Um. Thank you,’ I said, grateful for the hatch imposing some distance between us while I tried to think. ‘I appreciate you coming here to tell me that. And I’m sorry you’ve been unwell.’
‘Thank you,’ Rosemary said, face scrunching up again. ‘That’s very gracious of you.’
‘What time’s your flight?’ Blessing asked pointedly.
All the adults quickly checked their phones and watches.
‘We can just about make it if we run,’ Violet said.
‘Is that…?’ Gabe asked me.
‘Yes. Please go.’
And so, in a flurry of kisses from the sisters and children, the briefest of introductions to baby Colin, a wink from Gabe and firm nod from Aster, they bundled back in the minivan and disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived.
All of them, that was, apart from one.
‘Look, you two need a proper conversation, and it’s freezing out here. Go on and find somewhere inside while I pack up,’ Blessing said, her tone leaving no room for arguments.
‘Is that okay?’ Pip asked hesitantly.
‘Well, you’re here now, so it’ll have to be,’ Blessing huffed as she opened the truck’s door and shooed me out. ‘Go on, I want to get back before the roads ice over.’
Rather than trespassing inside the farm, we trudged through the field and found a bench on the far side of the bonfire. Most of the guests had either left or retreated indoors, so we were able to talk freely. If only we were bold enough to say anything.
‘I still can’t believe we found you,’ Pip said, eventually breaking the silence.
‘I can’t believe you were looking,’ I added, ducking my head. All my memories of Pip were bathed in sunlight or balmy summer nights. Sitting here, the dying embers no match for December’s bitter chill, Pip being here felt like a dream.
‘Honestly? I’ve been searching on the Internet for weeks.’
‘No joy?’ I disguised my ripple of delight with a cold-induced shiver.
‘You’re a very elusive woman.’
I gave a shy smile. ‘I’ve never done social media. Even if Mum hadn’t conditioned me into thinking it was trash, I’ve not had enough friends and no family to keep up with, so there didn’t seem any point.’
‘I tried the professional networking sites, even joined a couple to get proper access. I couldn’t find your business details anywhere, let alone you.’
‘We have a new business. As you can see. And although I’ve always gone by Brown, my legal surname for professional activities is Swan.’ I shuffled close enough to give a playful nudge, relishing the warmth of another body. ‘What else did you try?’
‘I started hunting pasty shops, cafés, event catering, anything else I could think of.’
‘Even though I’d asked you not to?’
‘I wasn’t planning on coming to find you in person. I just wanted to know where you were. If you were okay. I promised in my letter that I’d not pester you.’ He sighed. ‘But it turned out my sisters had other ideas. They were obsessed.’
‘I only got the letter two weeks ago.’
He turned to look at me. ‘But you read it?’
‘It helped, knowing you didn’t hate me. Trying to get over you was harder because I couldn’t stop wondering if you blamed me for everything. At least I could let that go.’
‘You were still trying to get over me? A couple of weeks ago?’
I shook my head. ‘A couple of minutes ago. As soon as I drove up and saw that banner, I morphed into a gibbering wreck.’
‘And now?’
For a long moment, the only sound was the crackle of twigs, the faint thud of a disco bass from inside the house.
‘It’s lovely to see you. And I’m pleased your mum has got some help. But things have moved on since the summer. Blessing and I have worked so hard to get the food truck up and running. We share a house. Her brother works for us. I can’t simply disappear off to an island because I feel like it. We’ve got bookings for the next few months.’
Pip reached up and gripped his neck. The familiar gesture made me want to cry. I’d thought the island had changed things – made me believe it was possible to follow my heart, choose me for the first time. But it wasn’t just me any more. I thought again about how Mum might have felt, taking on the responsibility of someone else’s baby, with no one to help her and everything weighing on the success of her little kiosk.
‘And you won’t start a relationship with me if it can’t go anywhere.’
‘How can we, when we know it’ll only break our hearts?’
Pip was quiet for a moment.
‘Would it make any difference if I said that I love you?’
I closed my eyes, as if that could lessen the impact of those words.
After I’d been dreaming about this moment for so long, now it only hurt more that it was too late, too impossible to change anything. Maybe someone stronger, wiser, braver than me would choose to make the most of every moment, and deal with the future when it happened.
But I’d spent too long rereading Mum’s letters, weeping over what Nell Brown had lost, bearing the brunt of how the scars shaped her forever.
This brand-new, fledgling me was still too fragile to handle whatever Pip could offer.
I leant against his shoulder, neither of us bothering to hide our sadness.
‘I love you too. And I’m glad that you came. All of you. I will never be the same because of you and the island, but right now that’s mostly for good reasons. Let’s not start down a path that will inevitably ruin that.’
We talked for a while longer, but I needed to get home, and Pip would have to hurry to make the last flight to Siskin. In the end, Blessing insisted on driving him to the airport, despite the frost forming on the roads, and we spent a precious hour squeezed together on the bench in the cab, too forlorn to say much more.
‘Okay?’ my friend asked as we exited the airport drop-off zone.
‘I will be.’ I managed to almost sound as if I meant it too.