Chapter Thirteen
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘You’re up early.’
At six-thirty a.m. Lily was in reception with her bags, startling Sam who was emerging from the kitchen carrying a paper bag.
She was back in her travelling outfit of blazer and jeans.
‘I’m always up at this time and I didn’t want to delay you for a moment,’ she said, firmly but politely.
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘And you’ll be delighted to know that there’s a place for you on the nine a.m. flight.’
‘That’s lucky,’ Lily said, not feeling delighted but rather relieved that she was going back to normality. The emotions that had been stirred up by their near-drowning were still churning away, even though she was putting on a professional exterior.
‘Not really. One of the islanders agreed to delay their trip until tomorrow.’
‘Oh … are they OK with that?’
‘It was one of the gardeners at the abbey. I guess she wouldn’t have done it unless she was,’ he said.
‘But she won’t miss anything important?’ Lily said, feeling guilty for interrupting the gardener’s plans.
He shrugged. ‘All I know is that the helicopter booking office asked around and someone volunteered when they heard you urgently needed to go home.’
‘I suppose it’s not strictly urgent but …’ Lily hesitated, feeling guilty for inconveniencing anyone. ‘Will you please thank her for me? I really do appreciate it.’
Sam nodded curtly. The bond between them seemed to have dissolved on his part too. He must be embarrassed about the emotional discussion they’d had the previous evening.
He held up the paper bag. ‘Anyway, I made a packed breakfast for you to have en route,’ he said gruffly. ‘It’s only pastries and juice, I’m afraid, but you’ll soon be back to civilisation. Well, Penzance anyway.’
‘You needn’t have gone to the trouble,’ Lily said politely, deflated by the re-emergence of the more reserved Sam Teague.
‘You’re my guest, the least I can do is provide breakfast. Now, as you’re ready to go early, we’ll get underway, shall we?’
‘Yes. Of course.’
While Sam locked the door to reception, Lily waited outside, drinking in her final moments of the view from Stark. The sun was shining amid a few fluffy clouds. The sand flats she’d painted the night before were now covered by water, with only rocky outcrops visible above the surface. Several yachts were moored in the channel between Bryher and Tresco, where its twin castles stood sentinel on either side. It was like a scene from a fairy tale.
All of this natural beauty had been hidden under the fog when she arrived, tantalising her – Lily was struck by another thought, even more outrageous than the one where she’d felt she might miss Stark and Sam. Was it possible that they hadn’t survived the near-drowning and, instead, had woken up in heaven?
‘Happy to be going home?’ he said, obviously noting the smile on her face.
‘Yes … I – I need to get back to work, but I was just thinking of something else. It doesn’t matter.’
‘Let’s get you on your way then,’ he said, setting off down the path to the quay.
The sun was warm and she didn’t need the blazer but donning her city clothes had been meant to help her feel more like herself again.
Would she ever feel like herself though? She wasn’t quite the same person who’d arrived, vowing to step off the treadmill – as soon as she’d finalised the deal.
But who am I really? Lily thought, alarmed again by the way in which the foundations of her life had been shaken in just a few days.
The Hydra bobbed in the harbour below, the turquoise sea separating her from Tresco and the heliport. It was so beautiful, day or night.
Lily came to a sudden halt.
‘Wait!’
Sam turned, an anxious look on his handsome face. ‘What’s up?’
‘I left something behind but – oh, it doesn’t matter.’
He nodded. ‘Your phone. I’m sorry, I should have remembered. It’s still in my office.’
‘My phone?’ Lily blurted out. ‘Oh, God yes. I’d forgotten about that too. No, I meant something else.’
‘Something else?’ Sam looked astonished. ‘More important than your phone?’
‘No. No, of course not,’ Lily said, embarrassed and shaken that she’d forgotten her mobile completely. ‘It’s only a watercolour I did last night. It was rubbish anyway. Bin it, would you?’
He shook his head. ‘No, I won’t. You must take it home.’
‘ Must?’
‘Yes,’ he said firmly, showing the steely side she’d glimpsed from time to time. ‘I’ll retrieve your phone while you get the painting.’ With that, he marched back into the hub and handed the cottage keys to her.
Lily went inside again and found the sketch pad abandoned on the coffee table, the painting now dry.
Funny, but the scene looked even better than she’d thought last night when she’d cast it aside. The colours were more vibrant than she’d remembered and although it was hardly accomplished, it had something: a soulfulness and yearning for something bigger than herself.
‘Stop it, Lily!’ She spoke the words out loud. Stark had forced emotions to the surface that she’d suppressed and she hated feeling out of control or doubting herself. She lived her life like she ran her business: there was no room for doubt or regret. Still, she couldn’t bear to leave the memory of Stark behind so she took the sketch pad back to reception.
Outside, Sam was pacing up and down, talking on the radio.
Probably some detail about the flight , thought Lily, but as he turned to face her and lowered the radio, she saw that his face had turned pale.
‘What’s the matter?’ she said.
‘That was Morven. I’m afraid I have some bad news.’
‘What? For me? Oh my God, is it my parents? The girls?’
‘No, they’re all fine as far as I know. It’s not your family, it’s you.’
For a split second, Lily’s fears that she really had woken up ‘on the other side’ took hold of her again before she snapped back to reality. ‘Me? How can it be me?’
‘Morven’s been online. Someone must have seen the kayak accident and jumped to the wrong conclusion. Your obituary is all over the web. According to the Internet, you’re dead.’