Chapter 26
“J ude!” Rob called out as Jude got up, the last of his chips scattering, to the delight of nearby seagulls.
“Wait!” He grabbed the crook of Jude’s elbow with one hand, the other clutching their greasy chip papers and drink can.
“Please. Just give me a minute.” His hold was tight, tugging Jude back from the edge of the cobbled street and over to a rubbish bin where he disposed of the remains of their supper. “Let me explain.”
“Explain what?” Jude could hardly hear him right then, not while his heart hammered so loud the whole street must’ve heard it.
He shook free, intent on the cottage Rob had stared at.
“He lives there?” He glanced at Rob’s nod.
“You knew it before we got here?” Fuck, even the cottage nameplate made his chest ache, One for Luck lettered in white over dark slate, a twin of the name painted on the boat his dad had spent years building.
“Were you going to tell me?” He scanned the outside of the cottage before his focus snapped back to Rob. “Wait. Have you been in contact with him?”
“No. No, of course not. I wouldn’t do that.” His hand was on Jude’s elbow again, “Jude. Please, please breathe for me, will you?”
Jude did, hauling in shuddering gasps as if he’d run all the way here from Porthperrin, spots he hadn’t even noticed at the edges of his vision only slowly fading.
Now Rob held his hand, sincere. “Y-you’re kinda scaring me, sweetheart.
Can you slow down and take another breath?
” That concern quelled Jude’s fight-or-flight reaction, reining him in when bolting seemed a better option.
He drew in a few slow breaths before blowing out a long one, aware that he was shaking.
“I… I’m sorry.”
“No.” Rob chided, arm around his waist now.
He bumped his forehead against Jude’s. “I am. I had no idea how you’d react.
But of course, I was going to tell you. I have been trying to all day, as soon as I realised where you were bringing me.
Before that, everyone was so busy. I… I didn’t want to make things more stressful for either you or Louise. ”
“What…?” he couldn’t drag his gaze from the cottage, its window-frames painted a pretty periwinkle like the cottage-style front door that he’d have to duck his head to enter. “How did you find him? I don’t understand what made you look him up in the first place.”
“I didn’t plan to. It was when we were reading those online restaurant reviews,” Rob explained.
“There was an article in the sidebar of one page. It listed unusual surnames, and one of them was Mirren. That reminded me of when we cleared out your dad’s study.
There are only fifty or so Mirrens in the whole country, and, as it turned out, only one of them has Trevor as a first name.
” He touched Jude’s face, turning it towards him.
“I only knew for sure yesterday when I found a photo of him online linking him to St Ives. I swear, Jude, I was going to tell you the moment Guy Parsons left, and we had some time to talk about it.”
“You found a photo?”
Rob nodded. “On Trevor’s website.” He unlocked his phone and tapped a few times, turning the screen to show Jude a maritime navigation webpage.
The smile of the man pictured couldn’t be mistaken, although he was much older than in the photos in his father’s study.
The last of Jude’s breath left him and he held the phone much closer, cradling it as he stared. “He still looks really happy.”
“You didn’t expect him to?” Emotion creased Rob’s face.
“Jude, I know…. I know your dad had problems buying the Anchor because of what happened, but he got there in the end, didn’t he?
Yes, what happened put his plans back by years, but look at what he ended up with…
. A life with a wife who loved him enough to sail with him, even though that wasn’t her hobby, and two amazing kids.
Neither you or Lou will give up. Both of you will hang on to the Anchor just so they have something to sail back to.
That’s one hell of a legacy, surely? A sign your dad must have been happy, even if it was hard for him on the way up.
So why wouldn’t Trevor? Be happy, I mean. ”
Jude didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
Rob said, “It was a long time ago, Jude. One bad thing happening doesn’t have to define a whole lifetime, does it? It was only a chapter, not a disaster tainting every page of their life stories.”
That wasn’t the message he’d ever been able to parse from his dad’s silence.
“I don’t know.” He really didn’t. His vision blurred now that the word disaster had a whole new definition for him.
Jude blinked before scrolling through a website that described Trevor’s navigation business, plotting routes for shipping tankers around the Far East. “He….” Swallowing around the lump in his throat wasn’t easy when he read through lists of commendations.
“Trevor was successful.” How long had he imagined the struggle of the one man his dad refused to mention, his entire career ended after one night spent in the wrong bunk?
He let go when Rob took the phone from him, sighing when he passed it back with a new webpage open.
“Oh, fuck.” The obituary on the screen was another shock. “He was married?”
“Yeah.” Rob’s exhale was also shaky. “Trevor’s husband died last year.
” Only a few months before his parents set sail, Jude noticed.
“They were together for thirty years. Married as soon as it was legal. He was quite a bit older.” Rob scrolled through an obituary chock-full of achievement.
Friends and relatives had commented below, adding to a picture of an extremely happy couple, and there— there —was one from his father.
Jude touched the screen over the name Simon Anstey, then read his brief message of condolence.
Rob spoke when Jude couldn’t. “Seems like I wasn’t the only one who went online to look up Trevor.
” His pat on Jude’s shoulder was gentle.
“If he read the obituary, he will have known that Trevor had a fantastic life with someone he loved as well. They moved to St Ives during the last few years they had together.” Rob spoke quietly.
“Your dad must have looked for him on purpose before he set off, Jude. Don’t you think that says something important? ”
Jude didn’t answer again, too busy gazing at the photo on the first website again, searching the face of a man he’d wondered about for so long.
He looked up to see the same face at one of the cottage windows.
Jude couldn’t say how he ended up inside Trevor’s cottage.
One moment he saw him through a pane of glass, the next the man stood right in front of him, saying, “Simon?” before shaking his head as if he needed to clear it.
Rob stepping in to explain shouldn’t have been a surprise, nor was the way he located the kitchen, the sound of a kettle filling drifting to where Jude now stood in a stranger’s hallway.
Only it wasn’t a stranger who said, “You do look just like him,” almost breathless.
This was the same man Jude had scrutinised so closely just as often as he could manage, whenever his dad wasn’t around to notice.
The same dimple Jude had seen in every photo deepened as Trevor smiled, laugh lines—like he’d imagined Rob wearing earlier—ploughed deep furrows when Trevor repeated, “Just like Simon. It’s uncanny.
Same height, same build, same hair—” his hand rose to Jude’s face before dropping.
“Even the same jawline. You’re his spitting image. ”
“Everybody says that.”
“You sound like him as well.” He shook his head again and said, “Of course you do.” He drew in a deep breath, his hand extended.
They shook as he said, “I’m Trevor Mirren, but I think you know that.
And you have to be Jude Anstey. Come in.
Come in, properly.” He opened the door to a living room, cosy and cluttered with framed photos along with so many objects Jude recognised from his own travels. “Please sit.”
Jude did just to rise to his feet again.
Trevor was suddenly anguished, his “Oh!” as stricken as the sudden shift in his expression.
“You’ve come because something happened,” he stated as Jude grasped his elbow, steadying him as Trevor deflated, saying, “That’s why Simon’s postcards stopped coming,” as if he’d solved a puzzle.
It was strange to brace a man he’d only ever imagined meeting.
Rob carried in a tray of tea things, set it down, and took over.
“Oh, no. Come here,” he said, offering easy embrace that Trevor accepted.
“They’re only missing,” Rob said, like he didn’t know just as well as Jude that holding out hope had to be pointless by now, a charade Jude had played out for months while Lou had been much more pragmatic.
Rob acting like he still had faith squeezed Jude’s heart.
Him saying, “Jude’s going to keep searching for them,” as if he was sure he’d be successful, constricted it even tighter.
Rob settled Trevor onto a couch and then crouched next to a side table crowded with framed photos.
He touched one and offered his condolence.
“I’m sorry for your loss, by the way.” He nodded at Jude. “We saw the obituary online.”
“That was how Simon got back in touch too.” Trevor acknowledged. “And thank you…?”
“It’s Rob. Rob Martin.” He poured tea, doing so much better than Jude at being a functioning human.
Jude was glad then to have him with him, and to be already sitting—the wave of gratitude that hit would have knocked him off his feet if he’d still been standing.
Rob nodded in Jude’s direction. “His business partner, along with his sister Louise, at their pub the Anchor.”
“He’s my boyfriend,” Jude said aloud for the first time.
“That too.” Rob’s smile was perfect. “For my sins.” He rolled his eyes at Trevor. “I must have been awful in a past life.”