Chapter Five #3
Cassie got out too, the unmistakable smell of briny sea air hitting her senses. She stretched tired arms, spotting Fiona and Gordon hurrying from the house.
‘Och, you’ve made great time. I wasn’t expecting you for another half an hour after Isla’s message.
’ Fiona’s Borders Scots accent was gentle, a wonderfully familiar voice that had comforted Cassie through so much.
She was wise in a way so few people were, and Cassie trusted her with everything.
A dull thud of guilt prodded at her as she remembered Raf. Not, now, with everything.
‘We got lucky with the traffic. Thankfully most people seemed to be heading in the opposite direction.’
The children threw themselves on their grandparents, who pulled them close, exclaiming about growth spurts and surely they must be hungry after all those miles in the car.
Cassie dropped down to cuddle Bramble and Briar, the mother-and-daughter black Labradors who’d come to greet her excitedly.
Isla and Rory hugged the dogs too, then shot indoors in search of the treats Fiona had promised, the dogs bounding behind them and in on the game. They knew what to expect.
Gordon wrapped Cassie in his arms. Tall and lean, his sandy hair now turned to salt and pepper, he’d passed on his square jaw, evenly spaced intelligent blue eyes and wide forehead to his only child.
Then it was Fiona’s turn, and she and Cassie held one another tightly, one loving mum to another.
Every embrace felt sadder and more meaningful; Fiona was more of a mother to Cassie than her own had ever been.
Fiona’s short grey hair was tucked behind one ear, tending to curl if she left it too long.
Pale hazel eyes were flecked with blue, and she was always ready to laugh, even now.
‘We’re just so happy you’re here.’ Fiona followed to help as Cassie turned back to the car. She popped the boot, and Gordon joined them to begin unloading. ‘Swim first? Or something to eat? It’s only sandwiches to keep you going until supper. I thought I’d do a risotto.’
‘There’s nothing “only” about your cooking, Fiona.’ She tucked her arm through Fiona’s as they made for the house carrying bags. ‘I adore it, and I’m thankful for every meal you feed us. I think I’ll eat first and swim later, if that’s okay?’
‘Of course it is.’ Fiona shooed Briar out of the way as they walked into the hall. ‘Swim whenever you’re ready.’
It was family tradition when they arrived to dump their bags and head straight to the bay, whatever the weather.
Warmed by the Gulf Stream, the water was reasonably mild, at least in summer.
Isla and Rory had grown less keen, and eventually it was just Cassie and Ewan who had raced through the woodland and plunged into the sea.
Afterwards they’d hurry back to the house and warm up with one of Gordon’s hot toddies.
But today, she didn’t feel up to the tradition, on her own for this final time.
‘How are you?’ Cassie’s question was a simple one, but it always meant so much more, especially this week.
Boxes littered the hall, another sign that this really was it and the move was happening.
Giving up the home in which Fiona and Gordon had brought up their only son had been a huge decision and one they hadn’t taken lightly.
Perhaps they simply couldn’t bear to be here without him, she mused, living with the knowledge that Ewan would never again tear into the house, filling it with his energy and zest for a life lived at pace.
‘Och, you know.’ Fiona found a smile, laced with sorrow.
‘I’m fine, really, we both are. Sad, of course, but here we are.
I’m so glad you’re here to help. Gordon’s wonderful in many ways, but he does like to hang onto things, and this is the perfect opportunity to have a good clear-out.
We’re already on our third skip and I want it full before we leave.
I wouldn’t have said we were hoarders, but the attic and the wardrobes tell a different tale. ’
‘I wish we could’ve come sooner, then you wouldn’t have had to do most of this on your own.’
‘You couldn’t do that, darling, not with work and school.’ Fiona slipped her arm from Cassie’s to enter the kitchen. ‘And I’m so glad you’re here now, which is what really counts. We love you for it, as well as everything else.’
The view of the kitchen hit Cassie like a punch straight to her heart.
It was achingly familiar, and she could picture a teenage version of herself here with Ewan, sitting at the table the summer they’d first met, the butterflies she’d felt whenever she was around him.
It hadn’t been long before she’d known he’d liked her too, and she’d been giddy with the exhilaration of falling in love for the first time.
He’d asked her to marry him in this room, an unplanned and perfectly romantic moment she’d treasure for the rest of her life.
They were just back from the beach the day before her twenty-first birthday, and he’d dropped down on one knee as she was about to stuff their towels in the washing machine, saying he couldn’t wait a minute more.
He’d already chosen a ring, and after he’d slipped it onto her finger, his ecstatic parents had been the first people with whom they’d shared the news.
Then Ewan still had another three years of his degree left, plus two more in foundation as a junior doctor, and Cassie planned to continue studying with a master’s before exploring a career in counselling.
But then her father had died suddenly and the home she had shared with Ewan had to be sold.
She took a summer job with an events planning company so they could move into a first flat of their own, a dingy studio a mile from university.
They married at Gretna Green two years later, her summer job progressing into a full-time role that eventually led her into public relations, her master’s abandoned in the need to earn a living.
The work had come naturally, and she loved working with people, despite the increasing demands of high-end events and the frantic pace of Ewan’s burgeoning career.
Their long-term plan had been to move back to Galloway to be closer to Fiona and Gordon.
But Isla and then Rory had come along, and the reality had always seemed just out of reach as the children settled into primary and then high school.
Ewan always found a reason to remain in London, to delay their plans for another year.
Eventually she had realised he saw the move more as a slide into retirement when the children were gone, rather than one in search of a less frenetic and demanding life.
She accepted it, understanding that he made almost impossible choices every day, life-or-death decisions, and she put aside her dream so he could follow his.
Cassie shook those thoughts away, blinking back a tear at the sight of Isla and Rory plonked in their usual places as Gordon poured drinks and the dogs slumped in their baskets.
The old pine table was exactly the same, and more meals, birthdays and Christmas celebrations had been shared around it than she could recall.
Hogmanay too, seeing out the old year and welcoming in the new one with the best company and endless fun.
Her dream to move to Galloway had never come off, and now it never would.
An hour after they’d shared Fiona’s risotto for supper and Isla and Rory had helped clear up, Cassie decided to go for her final swim.
The children chose not to join her, and although she was disappointed, she understood.
Their memories and the tradition didn’t reach back as far as her own did.
Galloway for them was more about their grandparents and the fun and freedom they had, rather than the loving home she had found here all those years ago.
She slipped out of the house, following the familiar path to the beach.
She would know it blindfolded, aware of the gentle hiss of waves growing louder.
Woodland gave way to the sandy bay, curving neatly between two granite crags.
She slid her flip-flops off, the soft crunch of sand scraping her feet.
Across the water, the uneven shape of Lake District fells was visible in the distance, indigo against turquoise beneath the lowering sun and expanse of sky.
Cassie pondered Rory’s suggestion of returning here on Ewan’s birthday to celebrate his life.
Perhaps they really would find a way. Make the pilgrimage north and remember him here, share what they loved best about him, and missed the most. They would laugh and cry, and somehow go on, one foot in front of the other, day after day.
She reminded herself how far they’d come already, how well they were doing most of the time, as her journals could attest.
She took her sundress off and left it with her towel on a clump of rocks worn smooth by the tides.
Her phone was back at the house; Isla and Rory were with their grandparents, and she had no need to worry for them while she was here.
She took a deep breath, thinking of the swim ahead and preparing for the chill.
The waves tickled her toes, the water cold around her thighs and waist as she waded deeper, ready for the drop when the sand fell away in a steep shelf.
She began to swim across the bay, letting the sensation take possession of her mind and free it from all that troubled her.
She swam easily, with purpose and calm. Here, she could think clearly, and decisions seemed simpler.
She would meet with her boss on Wednesday, resolve the situation at work and find a new way to cope at home when Jas left in the autumn.
She would come to terms with Fiona and Gordon’s move and support them in their new lives.
And above all, she would take care of Isla and Rory.
She reached the opposite end of the bay and flipped over, swimming back to where she’d begun.
It was too nice to leave the water yet and she turned a second time, the sun warm on her back.
Further on there was a tiny and secluded natural cove where they all used to hang out.
She would sit for a while and think, find a way to say goodbye to this place.
She waded out of the water and rounded the rocks to the cove, hands sweeping the hair from her face before stuttering to a sharp halt.
‘Raf!’