Chapter 37
There was a knock at the window of the van, and Meg – midway through trying to reverse out of the little parking bay where she’d been lodged for the last two nights – opened her window to see the campsite owner looking at her.
‘Leaving so early?’
She was wearing a pair of rainbow-patterned Crocs with purple dungarees and – completing the slightly eccentric air – had a fluffy grey chicken in her arms, who looked at Meg with a disapproving expression.
‘Oh, yes, um, I –’ she tried to think of a polite way to say that she’d been woken for the second morning in a row by a cockerel yelling outside her van at four thirty in the morning.
‘Ah, I get it, don’t worry. I’m a morning person myself.’ The woman beamed and released the chicken, which flapped to the ground and scuttled off.
‘Yes, best part of the day,’ agreed Meg, who felt as if she’d been subjected to sleep deprivation torture and was very much looking forward to climbing into bed back at the cottage for a restorative mid-morning snooze.
‘Hope we’ll see you again,’ said the woman, giving the van a slap of farewell as Meg started to reverse again.
Highly unlikely,thought Meg.
She trundled along the roads towards Applemore, stopping for a coffee at various little parking spots along the way when she started yawning once or twice every minute. In the end she pulled over and closed her eyes for half an hour, waking feeling slightly more human and heading down the glen towards the village with a sense of overwhelming relief.
She arrived back at the lighthouse, surprised to discover that the gate was closed and there was no sign of Kenny’s van. He’d finished the fencing job, and the little gate and ramp that led up to the doorway looked wonderful. She pulled up the van, climbing out and letting Eliza out for a leg stretch. It was grey and cloudy, and white horses danced on the waves on the distant sea.
She wandered down towards the library, taking deep breaths of sea air and letting it fill her lungs. This was what made her feel free, not driving in the van. It wasn’t the van’s fault that she wasn’t that sort of person. It was just one of those things. She’d tried it, and at least now she could accept that it wasn’t for her. That was progress, of a sort. The old Meg probably would have just gritted her teeth and thought it was all she deserved.
Eliza beetled about, catching up on all the delicious scents that a weekend of visitors had left behind. Meg picked up a couple of pieces of litter which had been blown up from the beach and headed towards the library cupboard to see what sort of state it was in.
She opened the chest first, and was amazed to discover it full of all sorts of things – a little bag of vegetable seed packets with a note inside urging people to help themselves, some chocolate brownies from Anna’s café, a four pack of tinned soup… it seemed to have taken on a life of its own in the short time she’d been gone. Meg closed it carefully, smiling to herself, and straightened up to look inside at the library shelves.
She gave a little gasp of happiness when she saw a brown envelope sticking out from between two novels on the top shelf. Ah, the teenagers had been at it again, sending love notes. It was so cute. Tipping her head sideways, she frowned as she caught sight of the neat writing inked on the front.
Meg
Her heart thumped unevenly as she pulled it out from the shelf, turning it over to see if there was anything written on the back. Nothing. She slipped a finger underneath the seal and tore it open. Inside was a pretty card with a hand-painted watercolour of two trees on the front.
Sorry I couldn’t make our date on Saturday, but I’d like to make it up to you with dinner. Let me know what you think? – G
Meg closed the card and looked around. There was nobody there, but she half-expected someone to appear from behind the sand dunes on the beach path and tell her it was a joke. Her heart was crashing against her chest.
She opened it again – no, she wasn’t imagining it. It was the sweetest gesture.
She headed back to the cottage and sat down on the sofa.
Hello, she typed, feeling suddenly shy. I just got back.
The message was read straight away. That was unusual – she’d already noticed that Gabe, working outside as he did, was often slow to reply.
How was the van trip?
She laughed, shaking her head in amazement.
How do you know I was on a van trip?
You said it yourself. The Applemore News Network misses nothing.
Of course… I forgot that part. She glanced at the card, which was lying on the little wooden table by her side. And yes, I would love to go for dinner, she added, a moment later.