Chapter 13
MY HAIR WHIPS around my face in the wind, as we make the trek down to the beach where the opening scene of Clovedale was filmed.
A battle wages in the skies. Heavy grey clouds hover on the horizon, staring down the wisps of white in the sky above us.
The ocean sounds angrier with each step, and by the time our feet sink into the sand it’s a deafening roar.
Adam’s hand is warm, the skin soft and smooth. His fingers don’t quite close over mine, making our first hand-holding attempt awkward.
He yawns and rolls his neck. ‘That sofa is torture,’ he says as we draw closer to the others.
I swing our hands back and forth like a pendulum. ‘The bed is super comfy,’ I reply.
‘You’re smaller than me so you should take the sofa.’
I laugh. ‘Oh, you’re serious?’ I ask when he glares at me. ‘Let’s not forget who the uninvited guest is here.’
‘Dianne invited me.’ He brings our swinging arms to a sharp halt.
‘Then sleep in her room.’
He lowers his head, making doubly sure no one hears us even though the wind and crashing waves are already making it all but impossible. ‘Should I explain to her why I’m doing that or will you tell her?’
‘I’ll tell her you snore. Or that the cottage isn’t helping your creativity so you need to bunk with her and Dad. I didn’t hear much typing happening last night.’
Adam straightens. ‘You were fast asleep within seconds.’
‘I was awake for ages.’
His fingers flex against mine. ‘If anyone should move out for snoring, it’s you.’
‘I don’t snore.’
He repositions his grip on my hand and squeezes as he stares at the wave rolling onto the sand. ‘You do.’
I’m not sure what’s startled me more. The claim that I snore, which I most definitely do not, or that he’s holding my hand properly, and I’m not completely opposed it.
It’s been a long time between hand-holds.
Or any intimacy with another person. But it’s the hand-holding I’ve missed the most while in my single era.
An era that has spanned four years (and counting).
That’s four years of not having someone take my hand for no reason other than they want to.
‘It’s so beautiful.’ Mum’s voice cuts through the wind.
‘Carol, isn’t it beautiful? Look, that’s where Alexander washed up on the shore.
’ She points ahead of her with such authority that I almost believe her.
Truthfully though, every inch of this beach looks the same.
And yeah, I’ve seen the show once or twice and she’s watched it too many times to count but, still, how can she be so certain?
‘Bill said that if you go swimming you shouldn’t go too far. It gets deep quickly.’
Bill, our tall, hulking bus driver and tour guide, reaffirms Mum’s warning with a brisk nod. ‘I also said something about putting on thermals before even touching the water,’ he says with a booming laugh.
‘Riley, did you hear that? You’ll need thermals!’ Mum calls to Riley, who is walking off, her shoulders hunched, headphones jammed into her ears. Amelia does cartwheels behind her, begging Reese to watch.
Adam’s hand slips from mine and he moves closer to the shoreline, his hair rustling in the wind.
‘Thermals, Adam,’ Mum calls out.
‘I don’t think he’s going swimming,’ Gabi says as the three of us watch him crouch at the water’s edge, a wave narrowly missing his white trainers. ‘What’s he doing? Researching his next book? Don’t give me any spoilers, but is it set on a beach?’
I have no idea what his book is about. I haven’t bothered to ask, which is clearly a fake-girlfriend faux pas.
Especially considering that my family is full of Adam Whittaker fans.
But they can’t know that I am clueless about his new book, so I nod.
‘Umm…yes,’ I say slowly and I hold down the billowing skirts of my black maxi dress, wondering if it’s worth asking Bill if he has any thermals on hand. ‘It’s got a beach in it.’
Gabi flashes me a dubious look and is about to speak when Bill calls everyone over to him.
‘This is where we meet our hero, Alexander,’ he says when our group, minus Riley, is huddled close enough to hear him.
Rubbing my arms against the chill, I think longingly of my jacket hanging in the wardrobe in the cottage.
The jacket I refused to bring despite both Adam and Mum advising I do.
I’m still stubbornly waiting for England to receive the memo that it’s summer.
Stepping back, I’m immediately warmed by the person behind me.
Desperate for more, I press further back with a contented sigh.
‘Anti-hero,’ Mum corrects. ‘Isn’t that right, Adam?’
A clearing of the throat directly behind me makes me regret chasing that blessed warmth, but not quite enough to step away. Glancing over my shoulder I catch Adam paling as everyone looks to him. ‘From what you’ve told me, Dianne, yes, Alexander sounds like an anti-hero.’
Mum looks to Aunt Carol with a smug smile.
Mum and Aunt Carol’s close relationship has always been tinged with a competitiveness as to who the head of the family is.
Aunt Carol thinks that because she married Uncle Max, who is fifteen months older than Dad, she is the Fogerty matriarch.
But Mum’s been a Fogerty longer, by a whole three months, so she thinks the position belongs to her.
‘Just how often have you two talked?’ I whisper.
‘She gave me a full rundown of the show at dinner last night,’ he whispers back, his breath warm on my ear. I wait for him to move away, to force me from his chest, but he stays there, protecting me from the cold.
‘Right,’ Bill says. ‘This is where we meet our anti-hero, Alexander. He wakes up on this beach, still a wee bit drunk from the night before with the waves lappin’ around him, drenched to the bone. He sits up, confused about how he ended up here, and that’s when he sees her.’
‘Clementine,’ Mum and Aunt Carol breathe together, their smiles dreamy as they no doubt replay the moment in their minds.
The slow-motion arrival of Clementine walking across the sand, her pale-green dress fluttering in the wind, a hand clutching her hat.
Her eyes fall on Alexander and you just know they’re about to embark on an epic romance that is so agonisingly drawn out that it takes an eternity for them to kiss for the first time. And when they do…oh, it’s worth it.
Okay, I might have watched Clovedale more than once or twice.
‘Our lovers return to this spot many times, most notably for the final scene of the series where we get a glimpse into their future and see them happily married with a brood of children.’
‘Can you show me exactly where the first scene was filmed,’ Natalia says and she runs her fingers through her long, brown hair.
That must be some super-duper-strength hairspray she uses because those locks have remained intact whereas my hair is so tangled I feel like I’ve done battle with a cyclone.
‘I need to get a photo in the exact spot,’ Natalia says with a grin. ‘I’m documenting this trip for my followers. There are some diehard Clovedale fans out there and we’re doing a watch-along next week.’
‘A watch-along?’ Mum grips Aunt Carol’s hand. ‘We should do that too. All of us.’ She waves a hand over the group. ‘Each night we’ll watch a couple of episodes together. Riley and Amelia will be excused for the more adult episodes but there’s a few they can watch. Oh, it’ll be so much fun.’
Gabi and Tommy groan. They hated Clovedale and refused to watch past the first episode when Mum and Aunt Carol forced a viewing on us three Christmases ago.
‘We’ll be here for an hour,’ Bill says. ‘Feel free to explore, go for a nice walk, whatever you choose to do, just be back at the bus by midday so we can make it to lunch.’ He leads Natalia over to where Alexander woke up from his epic night of drinking and she immediately hands her phone to Tommy and poses for a shot.
‘You should set your next book here, Adam,’ Mum says as Dad unfurls a towel.
Aunt Carol nods excitedly. ‘Yes, it’s very iconic. And Sabrina said you were including a beach so why not this one?’
‘She did?’ His voice rumbles against my back.
‘What better place for a character to mope and be moody,’ I reply.
He steps away from me, and I shiver almost instantaneously as the wind swirls around me.
‘We can all help with the research,’ Mum says.
‘I’m your man, Adam.’ Uncle Max puffs out his chest. ‘I’ve brushed up on my knowledge of the Cotswolds and I’m ready to impart my wisdom on to you all.’
‘Sabrina is a great researcher.’ Dad squeezes my shoulder with a proud grin. ‘Remember your project on whales in grade five? The teacher said she’d never seen anything as thoroughly researched.’
My whale project? That’s what he’s using to promote my research skills?
How about all the work I put into learning how to start a business?
Or the hours I spent looking into alternative therapies for Mum?
Sure, she didn’t use any of the holistic approaches I found, but that doesn’t negate the skills it took to find that information.
But sure, my grade-five whale project. Thanks, Dad.
‘Tommy can help you too,’ Aunt Carol says.
‘Before he got his on-air spot, he worked in the radio-station research department. Ooh, you should talk to him about getting on his show. Morning shows are very popular, it would be great publicity. He won’t be the one to interview you because he does the sports segment, but it’s still worth doing.
’ She unzips her bright purple windbreaker and peels it off.
‘What is that?’ Gabi asks, pointing at the picture on Aunt Carol’s T-shirt.
‘What? This?’ Aunt Carol pulls at her T-shirt so the image is no longer stretched across her chest and can be seen more clearly. ‘It’s Winston Churchill.’
‘I know that,’ Gabi says. ‘But why is he on your T-shirt?’
‘Because we’re in England,’ Aunt Carol says like that explains everything.
Uncle Max removes his own windbreaker to show off his matching T-shirt.
‘We have T-shirts with a famous English person on them for each day of the trip,’ she says.
‘I got them printed at this place near Tommy’s studio when we visited him last month.
At first we were just going to do one for the final day but the man we went to said it was such a clever idea and we should do one for each day.
’ Aunt Carol swipes her hair off her face and lights up with a brilliant grin.
‘Adam, you should speak to this man about promotional T-shirts for your books. We could all wear them.’
Adam looks horrified.
‘Adam!’ Natalia calls out and waves her arm frantically. ‘I need a photo with you.’
Worried he’s about to hurt my aunt’s feelings, I take his wrist and tug him over to Natalia, grabbing Aunt Carol’s windbreaker as we pass her.
Natalia’s grin is dazzling, one of those smiles that brings a face to life and I find myself drawn to her because it’s so damn contagious. Much more contagious than my smile. She teases Adam for frowning and throws her arm around his neck with an order to smile as Tommy takes the photos.
Cosy in Carol’s windbreaker, I turn away from the photoshoot and watch Mum and Dad sitting on a towel, snuggling into each other.
He holds his lips to the top of her head and a smile slides across Mum’s face.
It’s those small moments that hit me the hardest and remind me how close we came to losing her.
That fear suffocated any sliver of joy out of life and I’m not sure it ever fully went away.
It’s probably why I never say anything about her meddling or manipulations. That, and I’m terrified of her.
‘Are you okay?’
I blink up at Adam, swallowing down the all-too-familiar fear. ‘I’m fine,’ I say.
He stares at me as if he doesn’t believe me. And while him checking on me is actually quite nice, I really don’t want to get into this with him now. Or ever. He doesn’t know us and while he may be here pretending that he’s my boyfriend, he’s not actually part of the family.
I jog down the beach and grab Amelia, lifting her up and laughing at her squeals. I spin her around, forcing away all thoughts of Mum leaving us.
‘Mum! Look!’ Amelia shrieks and points towards two horses ambling along the shoreline. She races off to Reese and the two of them head off to meet the horses and their riders.
I inch closer to the water, careful to keep my sandalled feet clear of the waves. I pull my phone out and snap away, catching the glint of the shy sun hitting the water, and send it to Hattie.
My phone beeps straightaway. She’s sent me a photo of the cafe, and it’s busy. I almost squeal. My phone beeps again.
Hattie: Has a certain author swept you off your feet yet?
I type back quickly. No
Hattie: The man followed you across the globe!
I turn back to the beach. Adam is sitting on a rock, staring out at the water, lost in thought.
I send Hattie a rolling-eye emoji and then jog over to sit beside Mum and Dad, nestling under Dad’s arm and listening to Mum as she explains every detail of the first episode of Clovedale and promises Natalia that she’ll love it.
We return to the bus and, in true Fogerty tradition, we sit in the same seats we had on the way there. I’ll bet everything I own that not one person changes their seat for the entire tour. We’re nothing if not predictable.
I nestle back in my seat, warm at last, and watch the patchwork of green and golden pastures pass.
Adam’s arm brushes against mine as he leans over slightly to look through the window.
The sunscreen he slathered over his face this morning while lecturing me on the importance of sun protection even on overcast days smells of coconut.
He leans a little further when we pass an old farmhouse and his breath tickles my face. His eyes flick to mine.
I swallow, my throat oddly dry as I hold his stare. He can go a really long time without blinking. ‘Did you,’ I start and then cough to clear the rasp from my voice. ‘Um, did you decide to include a beach in your book?’
My cheeks burn. Did I seriously just ask that question?
He blinks slowly. ‘I’m undecided.’ His answer is a puff of warm air on my lips. There’s the slightest uptick to the corners of his mouth. An almost smile. He pulls away and reaches into his backpack to retrieve his notebook and pen and then proceeds to hunch over the pages scribbling frantically.