Chapter Twenty
THEN
‘Excited to be back?’ Mae asked from where she was sitting next to Luna in the car.
‘Yes. I mean, I think so.’
For the first time in years, Luna was determined to enjoy the summer as Emmett’s friend – no more pining.
She thought back to what she’d done last year, kissing Ahmed like that, and it felt so wrong.
No, Emmett had made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want to risk their friendship, and Luna was okay with that. She had to be.
Luna had heard from Emmett this year; they’d written as always.
She knew that Tanya was out of prison and clean.
She knew that with Gregor’s help, Earl had sold another piece, the Montmartre one.
She didn’t know anything else. More than ever this year, she’d tried to just get on with her life, to pretend that Northumberland didn’t exist. Except, of course, it did, and they were almost there.
Her mum and dad weren’t speaking. Some argument about the fact that he was here for the whole summer this year, which hadn’t exactly made her Mum happy. Luna wondered how many trips to the puffins they’d do.
‘I need a break, Jennie. I can’t shake this virus at all.’
They’d maintained a terse silence for the whole journey.
It continued as they pulled onto the driveway of the cottage.
‘Great drive, everyone – the chat was excellent as always.’ Mae was out of the car quickly. Luna waited though, because there, sat in his usual spot, was Emmett.
Her friend Emmett, she reminded herself.
That was this summer’s plan. The Platonic Plan. Luna thought that it felt significantly easier to remember the merits of this plan when they were several hundred miles away.
‘Hi,’ she said. She felt scrubbed clean. After the dark year when she was fourteen, and last year’s Glam Plan, Luna felt rubbed raw and tingly. Like a blank canvas.
‘Hi,’ he smiled. ‘Need a hand bringing your stuff in?’
‘Thanks.’
Luna loaded up Emmett’s arms with supplies.
She had more artwork than ever this year.
If she didn’t draw, she started to feel twitchy.
Her anatomical drawings were getting better and better.
Never good enough, never a replica of the real thing, but she liked the struggle – something about it felt noble.
It still wasn’t the sort of art she felt she should be creating, but she accepted now that this was what she was drawn to. If art was always destined to be her hobby, she reasoned that she might as well draw what she liked.
Emmett piled Luna’s things in the space at the bottom of their bed while Mae laid down and closed her eyes.
‘You okay, Mae?’ he asked her.
She waved a hand towards him.
‘I have a pressure headache. I’ve been getting them whenever I’m forced to be around Mum for more than half an hour. Ten minutes and I’ll be good to go.’
‘Okay. We can go to The Edge – the others are there.’
It was impossible not to want to look at Emmett. But, Luna reminded herself, this was perfectly normal, totally within the bounds of a platonic relationship. They hadn’t seen each other for a year; desperately staring at Emmett was a normal way to behave.
She noticed that his hair was shorter than it had been in the last couple of years, the curls were close to his head.
It made his face seem sharper, a collection of angles that Luna had never fully registered were forming.
Angles that made her heart speed up, left her feeling light-headed.
This reaction possibly wasn’t within the bounds of a regular, run of the mill, platonic relationship.
It was just that when Luna thought about the scrappy boy Emmett had been when he was fourteen, there was none of that left now.
Instead, there were darker patches on his chin, where he’d shaved.
It was undeniable: Emmett, the boy who had been Luna’s best friend, was no more.
Nope. No. These thoughts were not in keeping with the friendship she was determined to cultivate. Men and women could be friends. Luna thought of her mum and Eyebrow Clive… Actually, that was probably a bad example.
They talked and filled in the blanks of the past year as Mae recovered from her headache, and then they were on their way to The Edge.
‘I just wondered, Luna,’ Emmett started, ‘whether you’d like to do something just me and you tomorrow?’
When Luna looked at him, he swallowed. The movement of his Adams apple had her enraptured.
‘Like what?’ she said eventually, surprised. And also confused. Luna was also a little bit hopeful, though she had absolutely no plans to admit that to anyone, or herself for that matter.
‘Like go to Holy Island.’
Emmett knew that Holy Island was one of Luna’s favourite places up here. An island that could only be accessed when the tide was out.
The seed of hope that had been planted seconds before began to bloom and grow, like the fragile buds that formed at the first sign of spring. Luna acknowledged her hope, how delicate it was, how lovely it was. She almost wanted Emmett so say nothing else, in case he destroyed it.
‘You could bring your pencils. Earl said he’d drive us.’
Luna couldn’t imagine going to Holy Island and not drawing.
She held her breath, and when it seemed that Emmett had nothing more to say, nothing that might stamp out her fraction of hope, she answered.
‘Okay, then. I’d like that.’
He nudged his hand against her own.
‘Best summer ever,’ he promised, linking their little fingers. Luna felt it like a spark of electricity.
‘I’d like that too.’
Best summer ever, indeed.
Luna was ready for a day on Holy Island with Emmett. Or at least, she thought she was. Last night had felt strange, strained maybe. As if they were collectively holding their breaths, but for what, Luna wasn’t sure.
She had to wait an age for her mum to come out of the bathroom but when the door finally opened and her mum emerged in a waft of perfume, she looked her daughter up and down and said, ‘You’ve really grown into your features, Luna.’
Luna decided to ignore the tone of surprise since she was feeling generous. She felt distinctly less generous eating her breakfast listening to her mum and dad bickering. She wasn’t sure which she disliked the most: silence or bickering. Neither was particularly fun.
‘Must you leave all that rubbish on the table?’ Her mum was fussing around Dad’s models. ‘There’s no room for the breakfast spread.’
‘Breakfast spread? Why are we having a spread? Just eat toast like a regular person.’
‘I told you already, Clive is coming. And I’m on the Atkins. Why can you never support my aspirations?’
‘Oh well, if Clive is coming then let’s get the silver platters out. I told you, Jennie, I’m not well.’
On and on they went. Luna ate a slice of toast over the sink and listened out for the rumble of Earl’s old van.
Ever since last summer, when Emmett had lived with Earl, they’d become closer.
Emmett said that he thought of Earl as like a grandad, and Luna was sure that Earl saw Emmett as his grandson.
Luna wasn’t sure, exactly, how legal the whole thing had been, with Emmett living with Earl last year.
She knew about things like social services, and the care system.
Her mum had chuntered about how inappropriate the whole thing was.
Luna didn’t understand why none of the rules seemed to apply to the people who lived at The Edge.
Sometimes, Luna imagined that the caravan park was barely real, a place which only existed for her and the people that she loved.
Neither her mum nor dad looked up as Luna said goodbye and darted from the door, grabbing her sketchbooks on the way.
Despite a restless night, Luna wasn’t at all tired when she climbed into the back of Earl’s van.
‘Hi,’ Emmett said.
‘Hi,’ she replied.
‘Good morning, Luna. Got everything you need?’ Earl asked from the driver’s seat. Luna thought he looked smaller somehow. She pushed it from her mind.
‘Yep, I’m all sorted.’ She tapped the side of her bag with her pencils and notebook in. ‘What are you working on today, Earl?’ she asked as they drove north towards Holy Island.
‘I’ll be keeping going with my new piece.’
Earl had shown them his new work yesterday.
It was called The Rubicon. He’d only just started it, but it was a blue door, probably somewhere in Paris.
He’d told them that a rubicon is a precipice, a choice between two paths.
So the door symbolised the choices they all had to make.
Luna thought it was sadder than his other work, darker and more haunting, but still very beautiful.
‘I’m sure Gregor will love it.’ Earl’s new collector had commissioned another of his paintings since last year, much to Gregor’s delight.
Luna was worried about the strain on Earl of working towards deadlines, though.
He looked thinner, more worn out than normal. Zadie had mentioned a lingering cough.
‘My dad’s got that as well,’ Luna had answered. ‘There’s a bug going around, I think.’
Now, Luna was distracted by the view from the van’s window. She loved crossing the flats towards Holy Island and imagining that everything they were driving across would soon be beneath the sea.
‘The tide starts to come in at 3pm,’ Earl told them. ‘I’ll come back for 2.30, shall I? Make sure we have time?’
Two thirty was five hours away.
‘That’s great, Earl,’ Emmett told him.
‘Yeah, thanks for driving us, Earl.’
They waited while Earl coughed.
‘This blasted cough,’ he said finally, pulling into the island car park. ‘So annoying.’
‘Maybe you should have a rest today?’
‘No, no, I’ll be fine.’
Still, Luna and Emmett didn’t move.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah, we can come back with you if you like?’ Emmett offered.
Earl waved a hand at them. ‘No, no. None of that. Now go and have fun. I’ll see you both later.’
They clambered out of the van and waited while Earl turned around and drove off. And then it was just them. Luna and Emmett on an island that felt like it was the end of the world.
‘Beach?’ he asked.