Kindling

Chapter 22

22

By the end of the afternoon, Fraser was relieved. The B&B didn’t look half as bad now. The doors were in place, and he’d already made a start on varnishing the stairs.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm, straightening and slapping the dust off his sore hands before checking the time on his phone.

His stomach lurched when he found a chain of texts from his mum, starting from over an hour ago. After Andy had glared at him for reading an email earlier, he’d put it on silent.

Eiley’s in a bad way. Can you come earlier?

Finlay’s upset her all over again.

He came round the house!!!!! Bloody useless nitwit. Come soon please.

Fraser????? Hello????

He tried to remain calm, but his chest soon turned to ice that froze through his ribs, threatening to crack everything around and within them. Finlay visiting could mean nothing good. He couldn’t remember the last time Eiley had talked to him without crying.

“Shite.” He texted Mum that he’d be round soon, then went to search for Harper and Andy. He found them perched on a couch covered in dust sheets in the dining room, a laptop open in front of them as Harper typed away.

“How’s it going in here?” he asked stiffly.

Andy perked up, excited. “Harper is fixing the B&B’s website for me and helping me out with social media stuff. This might actually work! She thinks I should collaborate with Graeme and Captain Angus to offer package deals – that way, we all get more business come tourist season.”

“That sounds good.” Fraser wanted to ask more, but the walls were pressing in on him, and they would be until he went to see that Eiley was all right. “I’m really sorry, but I have to get going. Eiley’s struggling again.”

“Ugh, that little shithead. What’s he done now?” Andy stood up and braced their shoulders, intimidating despite their short stature. He wouldn’t mind pushing Finlay into the same room as Andy just to see how much damage they’d inflict on him.

“I don’t know.”

“Is she okay?” Harper asked, also standing, concern etched in the lines on her forehead.

Fraser shook his head. “Don’t know that, either. I need to go and see her.”

“Of course. Don’t worry about me. I’ll just walk back or something.” She wiped her palms on her leggings, making to sit back down.

He didn’t want her to, he realised. Then again, he wouldn’t ask her to come with him. She didn’t need to be dragged into all the drama, not when she was supposed to be here on holiday.

“Unless…” His heart lightened as she rose to full height again. “I can come with you, if you want? Maybe Eiley needs a friend? I don’t want to intrude, though, so just tell me if I’m overstepping.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, car keys already in his hand. “Are you sure? It might be messy.”

“I’m very good with messy. Haven’t you noticed?”

He smiled, though it felt stiff and achy on his face. “I’ll have to pick up Bernard on the way,” he decided, beckoning with his head towards the door. “Are you sure? Final chance to keep your Saturday peaceful.”

“Your definition of peaceful is frightening,” Andy said, closing their laptop and leaning back in their chair. “Just take her, Fraser. We all know you’re joined at the hip.”

He tssked at this, though it was starting to feel quite true. Maybe he shouldn’t be taking her home, shouldn’t let her become a friend to Eiley when she was fragile, and Harper was due to leave. Maybe—

Harper bumped his hip with hers, drawing him out of his sudden panic. “Come on, then.” She met his gaze. “Don’t worry, Fraser. I’m sure she’s going to be fine. She’s a single mum. She can handle anything. Besides, she has you.”

He nodded, swallowing down his fear, then took her hand. After saying goodbye to Andy, they headed to the truck parked out front, buried now among fallen leaves and sycamore seeds.

He opened her door first, then his own, taking a deep breath once the keys were in the ignition.

Harper squeezed his knee. “I’m here, too, okay?”

Emotion took hold of him like an iron vice, then. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had said that to him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, pressing his thumbs where tears burned at the corner of his eyes. “Thank you, Harp. Really.”

“Take a minute. Take as long as you need,” she whispered.

He nodded, feeling silly. Feeling unstable. He didn’t know why. He’d done this plenty of times by now. It wasn’t the first time Eiley had been hurt. It wouldn’t be the last. He was called to the house almost on a weekly basis, if not because of her selfish ex, then because one of the kids was sick, or Sky needed extra support, or Mum had a hospital appointment, or the hot water had stopped working again.

He was always needed. He always would be, and he was used to that.

But today, it weighed heavier. Maybe because of how he’d let Andy down yesterday. Maybe because Harper was here, and she saw him, and that made him vulnerable. Maybe because there was always something, and the thought of this happening over and over again suddenly felt more draining than he could put into words.

“I just… I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Of course you don’t. It isn’t your situation to fix.” She said it as though it was a simple fact. “You can only be there for her. That’s all. And I can be there for you.”

He scraped back his hair, bracing his wrists against the steering wheel as he looked out onto the village. It was a busy Saturday afternoon, most likely because the weather was dry for a change. People milled in and out of shops, taking photographs of St. Margaret’s spire and browsing the books in Thorn & Thistle as the sky turned the colour of a dark bruise against the setting sun. Harper should be among them, enjoying herself, not supporting him through a minor meltdown. If she was coming with him, the least he could do is stop grumbling about his problems.

Jaw clenched, he turned on the engine. She leaned back in her chair, but still watched him carefully. As they idled through the shopping streets, he tapped the steering wheel impatiently. “So, you’re helping Andy with marketing. I thought you didn’t like it so much anymore.”

“I like it when it feels important. A local B&B run by one person? I’m sure Andy works hard, but that won’t be enough unless they get the name out there. People need to be able to find it. Everybody relies on technology for that.” Harper tucked her chin into the thick roll neck of her knitted mustard jumper. As much as he admired her usual fashionable get-up, he liked her best the way she was today, makeup-free. Unmasked. At ease.

“Who’d have thought that just a few weeks ago, you were an Airbnber with no small-town values,” he mused, shooting her a dry, shaky grin.

She nudged him in response, tutting. “Clearly, people change.”

“Clearly, they do.” And she had changed him. Too much.

“I could help you, too, you know. With your forestry and handyman stuff, but also… if you decided to start selling your handcrafted work. I could come up with a whole plan, make sure it would take off enough so you can keep at it. I was thinking, if you gave Andy some of the furniture, have it front and centre inside the B&B—”

“I told you, I don’t want that,” he murmured, though something bitter bubbled inside him, making his words taste acrid. Like a lie. He didn’t have the capacity to consider why that might be now, his focus still on Eiley.

“I know, but I was thinking if you had support – you know, the way you support others – then maybe it wouldn’t be so daunting,” she continued. “Your work is beautiful, Fraser. Please don’t keep it in the dark forever.”

“I’ll decide what to do with it when I’m ready.” His knuckles turned white over the wheel. He didn’t want this, not now. It wasn’t the time to be making a show of himself. Who knows what people would think when they found out the fairies came from the local handyman. Plus, his family would only demand to know why he’d been so secretive, and… They had enough to deal with already.

She tapped her thigh, deliberating before she finally admitted defeat. “Will you at least think about it?”

He tensed at the idea, but one look at her and he knew he couldn’t deny her. Not when she was giving him those big, brown puppy dog eyes.

“All right. I’ll think about it.”

Fraser held his breath as he stepped into his childhood home. He was soon reassured when Brook ran up to him in socked feet that slid against the hardwood floors before sending him stumbling into Fraser’s arms. “Uncle Fraser!”

He wore orange face paint that was already melting around his eyes. Fraser recognised the work of his mum, who had never quite mastered the art of Halloween makeup, but tried every year nonetheless.

“Hello, mate,” Fraser said, lifting him up and squeezing him tightly. “You okay?”

“Mummy says you’re looking after us tonight! Are we going trick-or-treating?”

“We’ll have to see about that.” He tickled Brook’s chin. “Are you excited to stay at Uncle Fraser’s?”

Brook nodded, displaying a gummy grin. Unlike his two siblings, he shared his father’s ash-brown hair and green eyes, but Eiley’s beauty still freckled his skin and shaped his smile.

He pointed over Fraser’s shoulder to ask, “Who’s that lass?”

Harper offered a meek wave. “Hello. I’m Harper, a friend of your uncle’s. I’ve never met a talking pumpkin before!”

Brook giggled. “I’m only a talking human, really.”

“Oh! Well, I won’t tell anyone.”

Fraser’s heart warmed. He wondered how she’d come to be so good with kids if she had none in her family. Was it natural for her the way it was for him?

Brook cupped his hand over his mouth and whispered, not very quietly, in Fraser’s ear: “Is she a girlfriend?” He rubbed his hands together with glee. Since Fraser didn’t have a child-friendly answer to what they were, he set Brook down and freed Bernard from his lead before he dragged it around and scratched the floors he’d put in last year. Bernard ran straight to the kitchen, where Mum’s chicken scraps usually waited for him.

Today, though, the house was quiet. He popped his head into the living room, just to check. Sky and Saffron sat on the red rug before the unlit fire, mesmerised by a Halloween special of Peppa Pig. Sky flapped his hands excitedly to the theme song, while Saffron fought sleep in her baby walker.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here.” Mum appeared from the kitchen on one crutch, a plate of Sky’s favourite mac and cheese in her free hand. Her hair was a mess of brown, red, and silver-streaked waves on top of her head, and her glasses were steamed up from cooking. Out of all of them, Fraser was often told he looked the most like her, which he considered an enviable compliment. He certainly would hate to see his dad every time he looked in the mirror.

“Oh!” She looked taken aback by the sight of Harper, then whispered, “Is this her?” as though Harper could not still hear her in the echoey hallway. Her eyes glimmered with excitement.

“Mum, this is Harper,” Fraser said through a sigh.

Mum squealed, shoving the plate of food into Fraser’s hand so that she could shuffle to Harper. She yanked Harper into a tight one-armed hug, squashing her face against her fluffy rainbow cardigan.

Fraser mouthed, Sorry.

“Oh, I’ve heard so much about you!” Mum cast Fraser a stony glance, her swollen hand rising to her hip. “Not from our Fraser, of course. He’s quiet as a mouse about these sorts of things. Luckily, my daughters have been singing your praises!”

“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you,” Harper said, releasing a breath when she was finally freed. “I hope it’s okay that I came. I thought maybe Eiley could use the company, or at the very least, you might want me to watch the kids.”

“Oh, you’re too kind, my dear!” Mum put her face in her palm as though she was smitten. “You can call me Myra, by the way.”

Fraser couldn’t help but feel amused. If Cam and Sorcha were here too, the house would officially be more overpowered by wonderful women than it ever had been before. Harper would fit right in.

Not that he wanted her to, of course. She didn’t plan to. He couldn’t expect her to.

“You’re rather upbeat for someone who texted me ten poop emojis today, Mum,” he pointed out, inching his way down the hallway slowly. He could hear sniffling from the kitchen and almost didn’t want to go in. He was tired of seeing his sister in pain.

As predicted, Mum glared. Talk of Finlay always made her frosty. Though they were all grown up now, she was still protective over his sisters. Him, too, sometimes, so he made sure never to give her reasons to worry. “Aye, well, go and talk to your sister. You’ll understand why.”

Mum snatched the plate back from Fraser and disappeared into the living room to give Sky his dinner.

Fraser exchanged a wary glance with Harper. She took his hand without question, and they walked down the hallway. When they got to the kitchen, she pulled away, nudging him forwards.

He walked in first.

Eiley was sitting at the kitchen table, looking more than ever like the ancient porcelain dolls Mum liked to display in the living room. Scrunched tissues surrounded her, her face red and blotchy and her eyes swollen from tears, as she planted a kiss on Brook’s forehead before fussing over Bernard.

“I told Mum not to call you,” she muttered, then said to her son: “Brook, go and help Sky with his dinner, please.”

“When is our dinner?” Brook groused, rubbing his stomach.

“Soon.” He left still grumbling, but not before Fraser ruffled his long brown hair. It was his job, after all, to annoy his nephew.

As Eiley lifted her head, she blew her nose and squeezed her eyes closed. “Harper. Sorry. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“I thought you might like a friend,” Harper said quietly. She brushed past Fraser to sit at the table with his sister, taking her hand. “I know we don’t know each other very well, but I am your friend. I have decided, and you’re not allowed to disagree. Besides, I’ve always been told I have exceptionally good shoulders to cry on. Feel them. They’re very soft.”

Eiley laughed through more tears, which squeezed Fraser’s heart. For a better reason this time. How was it that Harper always knew what to say?

“I haven’t had a friend in a long time, really. I wouldn’t dare disagree.”

Harper smiled, first at her, and then at Fraser when he sat down opposite. For such a full household, it was only a small table, and his thighs brushed with hers underneath it.

“What happened?” he asked. “What did the prick do this time?”

Eiley shuddered. “I hate him, Frase. I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate him.”

“Are you sure I can’t get out the chainsaw?”

“I’m starting to seriously consider it.”

“I’m quite dangerous with a hammer, too, it turns out. If you’re looking for a hitwoman,” Harper added, nudging Fraser’s knee.

Eiley let out a sad chuckle, but it only triggered more tears.

“Come on, Eiley. What did he do?” Fraser prodded.

Part of him was afraid to know, but he had to.

Eiley’s chin wobbled, and she dabbed her cheeks with a crumpled tissue. “He came around to see the kids completely out of the blue, and I was thick enough to let him through the door. I thought maybe he’d seen sense, but he…” Her voice cracked, and Fraser darted to the other side of the table, pulling her to his chest.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, as Harper squeezed Eiley’s hand tighter.

“He said,” Eiley continued, “that he only wanted to take Brook. He said Sky is too difficult, and Saffron won’t remember these things anyway. As though he isn’t their father! Like he’s just some glorified babysitter!” She was shouting now. “I don’t get to choose which child I get to take care of every day. I don’t get to choose whether I want to wake up with my seven-month-old five times a night, or watch Sky struggle with things beyond my control, or go to every school play Brook signs up for even when I’m exhausted – and even if I did, I wouldn’t choose between them because I’m their mother! Because I love them! But he… He doesn’t love any of us unless it’s easy.”

“I’m so sorry, Eiley,” Harper said. “It just isn’t fair, and you all deserve better.”

Fraser gave a painful wince, kissing Eiley’s forehead. “He’s unbelievable.”

“He’s a wee shitebag,” Harper said fiercely. “Isn’t that what you call it?”

“Aye, that’s one way of putting it.” Eiley crumpled all over again. “I just don’t get it. I’ll never get it. He’s just like our dad.”

“Then you know you and the kids are better off without him,” he offered gently, “just like we were.” After Dad had left and the dust had settled, Fraser had found himself strangely relieved. He wouldn’t have to stand on his tiptoes anymore to search for a face that wasn’t there, during school nativities and junior rugby matches. He wouldn’t have to ask Mum Is Dad coming? , knowing that the answer would be Not this time, love , ever again.

He saw Harper process it. Understand. She leaned back, still gripping Eiley’s hand, her features soft and receptive. She wasn’t even a little afraid of big emotions, and fuck, he admired that about her.

“What did you say to him after that?” Harper asked.

“I told him to get fucked,” Eiley admitted.

Fraser let out a noise of surprise. His littlest sister never swore. Cam had the mouth of a sailor, but he hadn’t heard Eiley curse once in her life, not even the three times she’d been in labour.

“I don’t want him here anymore. I don’t need him, and neither do the kids,” she decided. “I told him that if he only wanted to be a part-time dad, he wasn’t welcome. I was silly enough to expect a fight from him… but he just walked away like it was nothing.”

“It’s his loss,” Fraser said.

Harper nodded in agreement. “Your kids have more love here than he could ever give them. I know it hurts now. You’ll always want him to be worth the love you once gave him. You’ll always want him to change. But some people just aren’t right. Some people just need to go and digest a cactus.”

They both laughed at that, Eiley far harder than Fraser. Hysterical peals fell from her until she was gripping her stomach. “Digest a cactus!” she repeated incredulously, tears streaming down her face.

It was hard to tell whose laughter was whose in the end, as they sat there around the table and thought up ways to make a shitty man suffer. Fraser was so full of love in that moment that he might have been bursting with it.

Love . Shite. Was that true? Did he love Harper?

All he knew was that Eiley usually ended nights like these crying. That night, there was no room for sobs in her chest.

Because of her.