Chapter 32 #2
I pull her close, press my face into her hair. ‘Isla left because she thought it would be easier for everyone if she wasn’t here. Because she didn’t want to make things hard for us.’
‘But I don’t care about stupid photos!’ Her voice is fierce now, muffled against my chest. ‘I don’t care what anyone says. I just want Isla to come back.’
‘I know, love. But it’s not that simple—’
She pulls back, looks at me with the kind of determined expression that reminds me she’s my daughter.
‘Dad, we’ve got to go and get her back.’
‘Maisie—’
‘We have to! She’s probably really sad and scared and she thinks we don’t want her anymore. We have to go tell her we do want her. That we don’t care about any of it.’
‘She’s got a team of people helping her. Lawyers and publicists and—’
‘We’re not her team, Dad.’ Maisie’s eyes are bright with tears now. Angry tears. Determined tears. ‘We’re her people. We’re her family. And family doesn’t let each other run away when they’re scared. You taught me that!’
The words hit like a wave.
We’re her people.
Not her team. Not her handlers. Not her professional support system.
Us.
Me and Maisie and this ridiculous village and the cottage she inherited and the jam recipe she learned and the life she was building here before the world exploded.
We’re her people.
And I let her run without fighting for her.
Again.
‘She told me she was staying,’ I say, voice rough. ‘She promised.’
‘So let’s go remind her she promised!’ Maisie’s on her knees now, bouncing slightly with urgency. ‘Let’s go to London and bring her home!’
‘What if she doesn’t want to come back?’ The question comes out quieter than I intended. ‘What if she doesn’t want us?’
Maisie looks at me like I’ve said the stupidest thing she’s ever heard.
‘Dad. She loves you. I saw her looking at you the way Mum used to look at you in the photos. Like you’re the best thing ever. And she loves me too. I know she does. She did my hair and made jam with me and she stayed even when everyone was sad about Mr Peter.’
‘She left though, Mais. This morning. Without saying goodbye.’
‘Because she was scared!’ Maisie’s frustration is palpable now. ‘Not because she doesn’t love us. Because she’s scared we won’t love her anymore after seeing those pictures. But we do love her. Right?’
I stare at my daughter – this small, fierce, impossibly wise human being – and something cracks open in my chest.
‘Yeah,’ I say hoarsely. ‘Yeah, I love her.’
‘Then we have to go tell her. We have to go get her.’ Maisie grabs my hand. ‘Please, Dad. We can’t just let her be sad and alone in London. We have to be brave.’
We have to be brave.
The words echo in my head.
I wasn’t brave ten years ago. I let her go to London alone. Let her face whatever demons were waiting there without me.
I wasn’t brave last night when she needed me most. Slept through her leaving, didn’t give her a chance to trust me with the truth.
But I can be brave now.
I can get in the truck with my daughter and drive to London and knock on Isla’s door and tell her exactly what Maisie just told me: we’re her people. We love her. We’re not letting her run away from that.
I look at Dad. He’s smiling – a small smile, but real.
‘What do you think?’ I ask him.
‘I think your daughter’s smarter than both of us.’ He stands, heads for the door. ‘I’ll watch the cottage. You two go get your girl.’
Maisie’s already scrambling off the bed. ‘I need to pack! And we should bring Mr Snuggles because Isla might need him. And maybe some of Grandad’s jam. And—’
‘Mais.’ I catch her hand. ‘We’re going to London. Not the moon.’
‘But what if she needs convincing? We should bring stuff to remind her why Sea Salt Bay is home!’
I hold my hand up. The plan dissolving before it’s really formed. ‘Wait.’
Maisie’s face falls. ‘What?’
I shake my head, mainly at my own stupidity. ‘I have no idea where she’ll be in London. Do you know how many millions of people live in that city?’
Maisie is giving me the look her mother often used to give me too. Like sometimes I was perhaps a little too slow, but she loved me for it anyway.
‘Piper will know.’
I rub at my jaw. ‘And how do you expect me to contact Piper?’
Now Maisie is really looking at me like I’m dumb. ‘Nina will know.’
‘Nina?’ My head is officially pounding. ‘What?’
Maisie’s smile is angelic. ‘Listening to the grown-ups talk is fun. Especially when they think no one else is listening in.’ Damn it, I knew that’s what she was doing in the café every afternoon.
‘Piper gave her number to Nina, and said to call if Isla needed help. She was really worried about her. I think she loves Isla as much as we do.’
I reach for my clever, clever girl and give her a massive squeeze. ‘You’re brilliant. Scary, sneaky as hell, but bloody brilliant.’
‘I know.’ And then she’s already gone, thundering down the hallway to her room.
I sit there for another moment, phone still in my hand, looking at the white walls I was going to paint green.
Fuck it.
When we bring her back, we’ll paint them together.
All three of us.
I stand up. Grab my jacket. Find my keys.
Then I go pack a bag and prepare to do the thing I should have done ten years ago.
Chase her.