Chapter Ninety-Four
Ninety-Four
Comfort
The M.S. Kernowek is quiet. It’s mid-week, and most of the tourists will be staying until Saturday. Ted has already been sick twice, his stomach upset from the unrelenting rise and fall of the boat. I’ve settled him on my lap, his wide eyes watching me as I stroke his head so gently that I’m barely touching him, whilst also trying to comfort Nemo, who is crying pitifully from his travelling cage. There’s nothing I can do to help him. There’s nothing I can do to help any of us.
I have to go back to my parents’ house. Having burned all the bridges of my London life, I have no other options. I should have texted them to warn them I was coming, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I arrive in a taxi, ashamed and humiliated, a confused Ted and a distressed Nemo at my side.
When I arrive here, my dad is silhouetted in the kitchen window, doing dishes. He sees me and disappears from the window. Then both my parents are in the doorway, taking turns to hug me.
I don’t need to tell them how devastated I am. They can see it all over me.
When I’m calm enough to talk, my dad puts on the kettle, and I vomit up the whole mortifying, sordid story.
They don’t judge, they don’t commiserate, they just listen while my mum rubs my back in slow circles.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say, welling up again.
‘Whatever for?’ my mum asks.
‘That you have such a failure for a daughter.’
‘What?’ she says. ‘You’re not a failure. We’ve never seen you that way, Lindy.’
‘I messed up my publishing job, my relationship with Max, and now my Loor Island fresh start is ruined.’
‘You tried. You did your best,’ Dad says. ‘That’s all anyone can ask of you.’
‘You wanted me to be settled down by now, and married to Max,’ I say.
‘No, we didn’t,’ Mum says, aghast. ‘We were delighted when you split up with Max. We both thought he was awful.’
‘What? I thought you loved Max? You kept asking if we were thinking about getting hitched.’
‘Only because we were worried that you’d take it into your head to run off to Las Vegas or something,’ she says. ‘We knew he wasn’t the one for you when he binned those old curtains you loved so much. Controlling git.’
‘Mum!’ I say, laughing through my tears.
‘We just worry about you, Lindy, and want to see you settled and happy,’ my dad says. ‘We sensed there was something wrong with your relationship with Max, but we didn’t want to pry. We were dreading you telling us you were engaged.’
Max wasn’t the one for me. They knew it, and so did I.
But Caleb? I’d have settled down with him. We might have even been happy.
I can feel myself beginning to cry again.
‘Are you missing your snakes?’ Dad asks, worried.
‘A bit,’ I say, thinking of the fright Cedric gave me when he slithered out of his vivarium and went wandering around the house. It feels weird that I’ll never hang out with him again. We’d got into the habit of listening to podcasts together, him curled up in my lap or inside my dressing gown, and it felt weirdly comforting to have him there.
‘Well, at least you have Ted to keep you company until his owners get back from their travels.’
‘I can’t believe I’m never going back to Loor again. It started to feel like home. I know I was only there a few months, but it just felt right.’
‘It’s okay, darling,’ Mum says. ‘You stay here with us for as long as you need. And who knows what the future might hold?’