Chapter 4 #3
‘We already have a book,’ Beth says, eyeing Moira up with interest. ‘It’s called The Real World of Macbeth, and we found it in a shop in Stratford-upon-Avon. And inside it, there was this card…’
Moira’s expression changes to one of wonder, her eyes wide and her mouth dropping open.
‘Oh my!’ she says, gulping down the wine. ‘The card with the beautiful mountains on it?’
‘Yes,’ I tell her. ‘It was. The words were beautiful too. So… here we are.’
‘Aye. I see that. Here you are.’
I shrug, slightly embarrassed by it all now.
She looks me up and down, and I feel like she takes in every inch of my soul.
My hair in its no-fuss bob, my make-up free face, the T-shirt that I spilled coffee on earlier.
My exhaustion, my worry, my constant fear that one day, the world will discover I’m a fraud.
My secret loneliness, hidden down beneath the layers of everything else, the bedrock of my life.
I feel tears spring to my eyes, sharp and bitter, and I’m horrified at the rush of emotion.
Moira puts down her glass, and wraps me in her arms. I’m very slightly taller than her, but I still feel like she’s completely enveloping me in warmth and kindness, the simple sense of being near another human being who will help.
Who will take some of the strain. Who will soak up some of the feelings that being here in Bonnie Bay has provoked.
It is so unexpected, such a strange relief, that I actually start to sob. Not just a little subtle tear, but a full-on, all-guns-blazing weep onto her shoulder.
‘There there, hen,’ she murmurs, patting me on the back. ‘It’s all going to be okay, child. Don’t you worry.’
By the time I pull away from her, I am a tear-and-snot-stained mess, and completely mortified. As, of course, is Beth. She’s staring at me with a mixture of genuine concern and utter horror. She’s upset that I’m upset, but also probably embarrassed in front of her new friend.
‘Sorry,’ I mutter, to the room in general. ‘Think I’m a bit tired.’
‘Well, you can rest now. You’re where you’re meant to be,’ says Moira firmly. ‘Laurel, are you going to take Beth for a tour, did I hear you say?’
She nods, but Beth looks uncertain.
‘It’s fine,’ I reassure her, managing a smile. ‘I was just having a moment. Go on, go with Laurel. You know where I am – but keep your phone on, okay?’
She gives me a brief hug, and disappears, the boys trailing after them. I wonder where they’ll go, and briefly register that I should probably have asked. Still, how much trouble can they get into in a place like this?
‘Come on,’ Moira says. ‘With me.’
She detours to turn the sign on the bookshop door to closed, me following her like a little duckling, then we go out into a gorgeous little courtyard garden.
It’s a complete suntrap, with a stunning view of the hills and cliffsides, green and yellow tumbling down towards us.
Sitting at one of the wooden tables is a curvy redhead wearing a fifties-style dress that works wonders for her figure.
She gives us a little finger wave, and pours out another glass of fizz.
‘Rosie, this is Jane,’ Moira tells her. ‘She’s just arrived with her daughter, Beth, who looks to be the same age as your Laurel. They’ve all gone off together.’
‘Will they be okay?’ I ask, belatedly.
‘Depends on your definition of okay,’ Rosie replies, giving it some thought. ‘They’re unlikely to get eaten by sharks, but there’s every chance they could go feral and eat their way through my chocolate liqueur cupboard.’
‘You have a chocolate liqueur cupboard?’
‘Doesn’t everyone?’ she replies, handing me the glass. It’s extremely tempting, cool and bubbly and undoubtedly deeply alcoholic.
‘I shouldn’t,’ I say regretfully, taking a seat and letting the afternoon sun warm my skin. ‘In case I need to drive later. Find a hotel. I only agreed to this because Beth was so keen – I don’t know if that makes me a sucker, or the world’s greatest mother.’
‘No reason you cannae be both!’ Moira responds. ‘And there’ll be no need for driving. I’ve invited you here, after all. You’ll be staying here somewhere, for sure…’
She turns to Rosie, and grins at her. ‘She found one of the cards! The cards in the books!’
‘No way! Another one? The Hopeful Hearts strikes again!’
My ears perk up at that. ‘Another one?’ I ask. ‘What happened to the last?’
‘We sacrificed them to our lord and god, the Kraken of the deep,’ Rosie says, in all seriousness. ‘In return for a bountiful lobster catch and a fertile harvest.’
‘We didnae do that,’ Moira adds, laughing. ‘But there was some fertility involved… now, where shall we put you? For tonight, you can stay at Kate and Brody’s. They’re back late tomorrow, but it’ll do for now. I have a plan.’
She narrows her eyes, deep in thought. I have only just met Moira, but I already feel like I’m in capable hands.
I already feel like if she has a plan, then everything will be fine.
Am I being naive and reckless, or am I finally doing what that card told me I could do – relaxing enough to find peace and wonder, and a second chance?