Chapter 43
Bali
My face was aching from smiling by the time I got to the bottom of the page.
It felt so good to be back in her world, seeing her familiar handwriting and her scratchy little doodles in the margin.
I felt a tug at my heartstrings at the thought of her researching her own father by herself.
This must have been why she wanted to finish her itinerary completely before coming to me with it.
I conjured up her expression that day when she’d come over with it; excited, eager to share but nervous too.
At the time, I’d put her jitters down to the prospect of telling me she wanted to defer her job, but now I saw I was wrong.
Jackson was still reading, his eyes roving over every detail on every page, drinking her in.
Finally, he closed the book and exhaled. ‘Smart girl. First to find Utt and then to find me and the hotel. So if she’d made it to Bali, I’d have met her. How cool would that have been?’
‘But your name?’ I said, confused.
‘I was baptised Eugene Jackson, Gene for short. My dad was a big fan of the Apollo missions. Remember Gene Kranz, from the Apollo movie, who wore the waistcoats?’
‘Vaguely.’
‘Everyone has called me by my last name since kindergarten. There was a girl in my class called Jean; you can imagine the teasing I got for having a girl’s name. So I became Jackson and it stuck.’
I stared at him, trying to reconfigure my brain with this new information. ‘You never told me.’
He shrugged. ‘It honestly never occurred to me. Like I guess it never occurred to you to tell me you’re a Magnolia.’
‘Touché,’ I said with a laugh. ‘I like my name now, but growing up it felt so pretentious. My sister Kat’s name is short for Katalina. Our mother thought we’d sound grander if she gave us unusual names.’
‘Magnolia is a beautiful name, it suits you.’
‘And Eugene is very …’ I searched for a suitable word and Jackson’s eyes danced with amusement. ‘Unique?’
‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘Unique is every high school kid’s nightmare.’
‘And the surf hotel?’
‘That’s me,’ he confirmed.
‘Are we going to read on?’ I said, nodding to Bronte’s book.
He pondered that for a moment and shook his head. ‘Do you remember Tegenungan Waterfall?’
A shiver ran down my spine. ‘Our first proper date. How could I forget?’
We’d hired a scooter and gone off exploring by ourselves.
We’d come across the waterfall by chance and had ended up climbing down steep steps and diving into clear cold water below the falls.
We’d swum and laughed and kissed and had to lie on the rocks to dry off because we hadn’t taken towels.
It had been the most romantic day of my life.
‘Fancy a trip down memory lane?’ He cocked an eyebrow.
‘Now?’ I asked.
He shrugged. ‘Why not? I’ve loved getting to know Bronte through your stories and now in her own words, but I think it’s time we talked about ourselves, don’t you? There are things I need to say, things I want to tell you, and ask you too, if I may?’
There was a sombre note to his voice which sent a wave of panic through me. But he was right. We couldn’t put it off any longer. I had to find out what he’d been doing for the last two and a half decades – and more importantly, with whom.
I attempted a smile. ‘Okay. Let’s go.’
We set off again. This time, thankfully, Jackson persuaded Scout to settle on the back seat where it was shadier. I think I’d have melted if I’d had to ride with a hot, panting dog on my lap again. We’d only been driving for a few minutes when I got a call from Harry.
‘You got the book back!’ He sounded thrilled. ‘I saw Lola’s story on Instagram.’
‘I have, thank you. Lola is lovely ,’ I added.
‘Yeah,’ Harry agreed. ‘I really like her.’
‘As a friend, or do you think she could be more?’ I probed.
‘More, maybe?’ He groaned. ‘I don’t know, Maggie. Is it too soon? The moment I start seeing someone else, I’m worried I’ll feel as if I’ve broken my tie with Bronte. I’m scared of letting go.’
What a sweetheart he was. He was so worthy of somebody’s love.
But I understood how he felt and my heart ached for him.
‘Think of it like this. Life is made up of chapters. Some people will appear all the way through while others will only be in a few of them. The chapter with Bronte has ended, but it’s not the end of your story, not by a long way.
She’ll always be there; you can look back at the time you had and know that she loved you and that you made each other happy.
But don’t be afraid to start a new chapter.
Don’t miss out on what life has waiting for you on the next page. ’
‘That’s cool, thank you.’ He cleared his throat. ‘And you wouldn’t mind?’
‘Oh, Harry,’ I said, my voice thickening. ‘Why would I mind? You deserve to be happy. Everyone does.’
There was silence for a moment and then, ‘You’re right. Okay, I’m doing it, I’m asking her out on a date. As soon as she gets back from Bali.’
‘Or,’ I suggested, knowing how pleased Lola was going to be. ‘You could message her now and ask her; make the date for a couple of weeks’ time. Give you both something to look forward to.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ he said. ‘Have you seen your Instagram recently, you’ve got loads—’
‘I know, I know.’ I laughed. ‘Everyone keeps telling me.’
‘There’s a travel company trying to get hold of you. They’ve commented on your last post multiple times. They are super interested. Check your DMs.’
‘Yes, boss! I’ll look now.’
‘Lovely boy,’ I said, ending the call.
‘Our daughter made good choices with men, then?’ Jackson asked.
I smiled at him, enjoying the chance to talk about her. ‘She did. She learned from her mother.’
He started to laugh and focused his gaze on the road. ‘I didn’t doubt it for a second.’
I opened up Instagram on my phone. ‘Right, I’d better see what all the fuss is about … Oh my goodness!’
Since the last time I’d checked, my followers had leapt to thirty thousand. I scrolled in amazement through the hundreds of comments on my last couple of posts.
‘What is it?’ Jackson asked, trying to squint at my screen.
I told him about Harry’s Instagram account and how he’d started helping people who were struggling with grief and that he’d tagged me in one of his pictures along with the Mum’s Gap Year hashtag.
‘I posted that I’d lost Bronte’s book and asked people to look out for it, not thinking for a moment that it would help me to find it.’
‘But it did, huh?’ Jackson grinned, ‘and now you’re Instagram famous, as Lola put it.’
‘Apparently so. I think older women taking a gap-year-style trip has fired a lot of people’s imaginations.
The travel market is geared towards young people taking these life-changing trips to far-flung places, but there’s a lot to be said for letting go of your responsibilities for a while and enjoying some freedom from everyday life. ’
‘Is that what you’re doing?’
‘Now that Bronte’s gone, I don’t have any responsibilities to let go of,’ I admitted.
‘Not even a dog. This trip started as a way to honour Bronte. There were things she wanted to do, places she wanted to go and people she wanted to meet. Since she could no longer go, I decided to go in her place with this itinerary as my guide.’
He gave me an appraising look. ‘That’s really cool, you know. And you’re glad you did?’
‘Oh yeah. I was stuck in a rut, telling myself I was dealing with my grief by accepting it and getting on with life. But I wasn’t dealing with it at all. If anything, I was in denial. I wouldn’t even let people at work mention her name.’
‘That doesn’t sound healthy.’
‘I’ve learned a lot about myself in the last few months. I’m going to be making some changes when I get back. Starting with finding things that set my soul on fire.’
The thought of going back to the UK made my stomach flip and I fell silent, mulling over what lay ahead for me when I got home.
At the moment, the answer was: not much.
But I was going to be a trustee for Tiff, which I was excited about, and I was planning to do more travelling.
I was determined to take this new energy back home with me and stay open to where life took me.
‘I liked what you said to Harry about chapters and turning over a new page. I can tell you studied psychology. You always said you wanted to be an expert in human behaviour.’
‘But I didn’t finish my degree. Once I knew I was pregnant, I had to start earning money. And I wouldn’t have been able to sit my exams anyway: Bronte was born in May.’
Jackson swore under his breath. ‘I’m sorry, that sucks. I wish … It’s no good me wishing things could have been different because they weren’t, but it’s a shame you had to quit. Couldn’t your parents have helped?’
‘No.’ I stiffened. ‘I don’t really have much to do with either of them. Not anymore. What about you? How are your mum and dad?’
‘Mom sadly passed away. Dad was heartbroken and lost without her. I persuaded him to join us out here for a month.’ He smirked. ‘Five years later, and he’s still here.’
‘I’m so sorry about your mum,’ I said softly, remembering how fondly he used to talk about her.
He nodded grimly. ‘The worst thing was that I’d been talking about going back to the States to see her for months, but I was so busy that I didn’t make the trip.
Then she died and I flew straight back for the funeral.
’ He looked at me. ‘Isn’t that crazy? I couldn’t make time for her when she was alive, but as soon as she was gone, back I went.
I was so angry with myself about that. I’d give anything for one more chat with her, one more hug, one more slice of her famous sticky ginger cake. But I left it too late.’
His words hit home. That could so easily happen to me. If Mum died, of course I would go to her funeral. Which begged the question that if I would pay my respects on her death, couldn’t I find it in me to repair our relationship while she was alive?