Chapter 35
You are being ridiculous, Meg told herself, washing her hands in the kitchen sink.
It was a lunch date, for one thing, not a proposal of marriage. But the trouble with Applemore was that now she’d have Miranda, and Greta, and goodness knows who else all wondering how her mythical date went, and she’d have to tell them it hadn’t happened.
She glanced out of the window and saw a man in work overalls with a ladder passing by the back of the lighthouse. Drying her hands and wandering through to the sitting room, she saw the builders had returned. A second later, there was a knock at the door.
‘Hi love,’ said Kenny, the builder. ‘Just wanted to let you know that we’re going to be working over the weekend. I’m a bit behind on my jobs, so we’re trying to catch up.’
‘Oh,’ said Meg, trying to arrange her face into a suitably cheerful expression. ‘Okay, that’s fine.’
‘Hopefully it won’t mean too much noise.’ He chuckled. ‘I’ve got some noise-cancelling earmuffs in the van, if that helps.’
He waved an arm toward his van, where the man who she’d seen with a ladder a moment ago was now unloading some sort of scaffolding contraption.
‘I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ she said politely. ‘Actually, I’m going to be away for a few days, so you can make as much noise as you like.’
She frowned at the words that had fallen out of her mouth, which had seemingly become disconnected from her brain in the last few minutes.
‘Oh, that’s good news. I won’t feel guilty in that case.’ Kenny chuckled. ‘Going away in your big van, are you?’
‘Yes,’ said Meg. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘Looks like you’ll have a bonny weekend for it. I better get on,’ said Kenny, turning and heading back down the garden path. ‘Have a good one.’
There was nothing to stop her going on a van trip. The library shelves were tidy and stocked, the house was organised, and the whole weekend was now a massive yawning gap of… nothing.
She ran up the stairs, grabbed a few things and a wash-bag, and threw them into an overnight bag. Swiping a selection of food from the fridge and cupboards, she packed them all into the van. How hard could it be? People did wild camping all the time. She’d seen them on the way to Applemore, tucked into little parking spots and on verges.
Eliza, who had been whisked from a comfortable snooze on the sofa and into the van before she knew what was going on, was sitting on the passenger seat looking at her every once in a while with a slightly suspicious expression.
‘It’s called having an adventure,’ Meg told her firmly.
What it was, she reflected as she drove north, trundling along behind a row of cars who were tailgating a tractor and trailer, was a hair trigger reaction to Gabe’s announcement he couldn’t make their date. She’d been excited and nervous all week, but there was something about the idea of opening up that made her feel a little bit… exposed, was probably the word she’d choose. And with what felt like half of Applemore knowing what was going on, it all felt a bit like she was opening herself up to be made to look like a fool. Especially now she’d have to turn around and say no, as it happened, she hadn’t gone for lunch with him. Meg grimaced at the thought of it.
She’d searched on her phone for one of the campervan parking apps and spotted a pretty little beach with white sand ninety minutes up the coast. It felt like a good place to start.
What she didn’t expect was to discover that on a sunny Friday evening she wasn’t the only one who’d had the same idea. The little parking space by the beach was packed with campervans. A group of five lads in their early twenties were sitting at the only picnic bench on the grass, a disposable barbecue burning on top of some stacked up bricks. A huge dog was tied to the bumper of one of the other vans, and it lunged and barked at her when she looked out of her window.
Meg gritted her teeth. She’d just have to get on with it. This was all part of the adventure, she told herself.
Eliza clearly felt much the same. She glued herself to Meg’s ankle as they walked down through the little path to the beach, not even stopping to sniff the sea-grass or any of the turf covered sand dunes.
The beach itself was breathtakingly beautiful – a long stretch of sand which wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Caribbean postcard. A couple were walking hand-in-hand along the shoreline, and in the distance, Meg spotted another group putting up a tent. It was hardly the deserted escape she’d been imagining.
She got back to the van and got things organised, switching on the gas hob and boiling the kettle for a cup of tea. Eliza had perked up after being fed and was curled up like an ammonite on her little fluffy bed under the table.
At least the mobile reception was as decent as promised. Meg sat down at the table and opened her iPad, ready to find somewhere slightly less crowded for the next day.
She was trying to navigate the app, peering at the screen with her new reading glasses, when a message from Helen appeared.
Hello darling, sorry for the radio silence. It’s all go here with the new little one.
Don’t worry, Meg typed, I can imagine. All good here.
Glad to hear it. I was going to call but we’ve just got her off to sleep… now I don’t want you to feel you have to say yes, but I’ve been contemplating staying longer.
Meg looked at the words on the screen. Helen had lived in Applemore so long that it was hard to imagine her anywhere else for any length of time. When she’d left, she’d lingered for a while in the studio, looking out of the window at the beautiful view Meg had grown to love, and said how much she’d miss it.
I had a funny feeling you’d like being in grandma mode… how long are you thinking?
It wasn’t surprising Helen would want to stay on a few weeks longer, really.
I’m not sure. A few months. Maybe longer? I love being here – it turns out I could rent a little place really cheaply.
Rent a place? Meg stared at the words on the screen with amazement. A few months?
I’ve been stuck for so long, Helen typed. I hadn’t realised until I got here – obviously it’s heaven being here with Phoebe and her little family, but it’s more than that. There’s so much here. I feel like my creativity has just blossomed…
Meg’s eyes were saucer-like. Everything Helen treasured – her art equipment, her books, her paintings… it was all sitting there waiting for her to come back.
Sorry for rambling, came another message a moment later. I feel like I’ve had a whole new lease of life.
What about all your art stuff? Meg typed, and then deleted it, realising that she didn’t want to sound like she was raining on her friend’s parade.
That’s amazing, she wrote, instead.
I don’t want you to feel you have to hang about… but on the other hand you’re welcome to stay as long as you like. It’s completely up to you. I know you’re having a nice time but you might be ready to move on and have some adventures in your little house on wheels.
Meg made a face. So far, not so good on that front.
Hrmm, she typed. The jury’s still out on that one.
Oh really??? Helen typed.
Maybe I’m just having some teething problems…
Uh oh, baby crying. I’ll try to call you tomorrow. You can fill me in. Grandma duty calling xoxo
Months. Meg put the phone down on the table and pressed her palms flat downward, as if to ground herself somehow. She’d been thinking as she drove about how to move forward with her plans to offer her skills to charities. If she stayed in Applemore for a while, maybe she could have a chat with Rilla and see if she had any contacts in the charity sector. It would be good to do something that made a difference.
She picked up her mug and opened the door of her van, looking out across the field that ran alongside the parking space. Even in her current state where she was crammed like a sardine into an accidental van gathering, she’d still take this over life back in Heatherby a million times over.
Meg woke early the next morning after a fitful sleep. Giving Eliza a quick leg stretch, she decided the best thing to do was make her escape before the rest of the vans came to life. She’d found a little campsite attached to a farm by a loch which was a couple of hours away, near Beauly, and set off with a strong coffee in her travel mug.
She stopped en route at a farm shop – noting that it wasn’t a patch on Applemore – and picked up some bits and pieces to keep her going for a couple of nights.
‘Hello there,’ said the woman who owned the campsite, smiling as she held open the gate for Meg to drive through.
‘I’m Lilian,’ she said, bending to pat Eliza once Meg had parked in a little tree-lined spot by a stream. ‘We’ve got a little shed over there with some eggs and things you might need, but I won’t trouble you unless you need anything.’
She had a sweet, welcoming face and light grey hair twisted up in a bun.
‘I think I’ll be okay,’ said Meg. ‘I’ve got some thinking to do, and this looks like a good place to do it.’
‘You’ve chosen a good spot. We’ve got a couple of other vans coming later, but they’ll be parked out of your way so you can come and go as you please. That little path there takes you through to the woodland walk. It’s my favourite.’
‘Thanks,’ said Meg.
The woman gave her a warm smile. ‘Sometimes it’s nice to get away for a wee break, isn’t it?’
It was, reflected Meg, later that afternoon, but maybe solitude was alright in short doses. She wondered what was happening back at the library, and if anyone had chosen the books she’d wrapped and neatly labelled with what she hoped were intriguing descriptions. She even wondered how the building work was going – although she was quite glad not to be listening to the repetitive thud thud thud of hammering and the clatter of metal scaffolding being assembled.
She checked her phone, telling herself she was looking for a message from Helen, but the truth was she was wondering what was happening with Gabe. Whatever was going on, he’d looked tense and uncomfortable when he’d turned up at the cottage.
There was a message from Miranda, though, asking if she wanted to come up and see the flower farm on Tuesday afternoon, and another from Laurel, saying how amazed and excited she was that she’d been offered the job on the spot.
I can’t thank you enough,she’d written. It means a lot.
Meg’s heart felt full.
She took a walk through the woods. A peat-brown stream wove through the trees, and as she walked up the narrow path, brushing past fresh new ferns and crushing wild garlic underfoot she realised she could hear the roar and splash in the distance of a waterfall. The path twisted, and there it was in front of her. She sat down on the little wooden bench in a clearing, and Eliza hopped up by her side.
Meg buried her hands in the little dog’s ruff of fur, gazing at the water and thinking. She’d bought the van on a whim, after reading an article about women in midlife finding themselves. Everywhere she looked people were rhapsodising about how much they loved the freedom of life on the road, and the adventure of waking somewhere new every day. The truth – which was slowly dawning on her – was that much as she enjoyed the adventure of travel, she preferred it when she arrived in a place and didn’t have to set up camp.
She’d left Heatherby because she was running away from the past, and a life where she’d felt it was safest to stay invisible. Maybe Rilla was right about Applemore having some sort of magic about it. She’d arrived, and thanks to the library, she’d found a place where she seemed to fit for the first time ever. That little library was so much more than a book exchange… it was somewhere kindnesses were shared, and secrets kept.
She stood up to head back to the van, remembering as she did the teenagers who’d been exchanging notes. She hadn’t seen either the boy or the girl in a while – when she got home, she’d have to go down and have a peek, in case another secret envelope had appeared.
It was only when she’d made herself some lunch, and was sitting on the step of the van reading her book that she realised what she’d said without thinking. Home.
That was an interesting thought.