Chapter Thirty-Four
Sean will be out at the farmers’ market by now, I think, as we bump and sway towards the gates. The lane is so familiar; it’s odd that the place I disliked so much when I first got here feels strangely like home now.
‘I’ll just nip in and get my belongings. I’ll be straight back out,’ I say to Dan.
‘Great, then I can take you for that lunch,’ he beams a shiny white smile.
‘Stop!’ I suddenly put my hand on the gear stick. He slams on the brakes and shoves his sunglasses up on top of his baseball cap. He looks down at my hand and so do I. I whip it away but he’s still looking at me with a wide smile on his face.
‘The van’s still there,’ I quickly explain, looking through the sparse hedge. I scan the yard but there’s no sign of Sean.
‘Perhaps we should come back later, after lunch.’ Dan shifts in his seat. He moves the 4×4 slowly into the drive and starts reversing into a three-point turn.
Sean’s van is on the drive with the back doors open, but it’s empty.
‘He should be long gone by now,’ I say out loud. I’m puzzled. Dan’s now got the truck turned round and is pushing the gear stick into first. He tilts his head back towards the main road.
‘Let’s get out of here and come back when he’s out.’
I wind down my window and can hear the hens making an almighty racket; they haven’t been let out yet. There’s no sign of Grace either. Now that is odd.
‘Sorry, Dan.’ I undo my seatbelt. ‘I really think I should go and see what’s going on.’ I push open the truck door.
‘Hey, now hang on. He was in no mood for chit-chat the other night. I don’t think he’ll be ready to make small talk just yet.
Let’s just go into town,’ he says slowly and deliberately, as if telling me to ‘back away from the gun’.
‘Let’s get some lunch and I can run my idea past you.
Then I’ll bring you back and we’ll collect your stuff while he’s out. ’ He pats the heated leather seat.
He’s right. Sean isn’t going to want to talk to me.
‘Look, I wanted to save this and talk to you over lunch, but seeing as you’re proving tricky to pin down I’ll tell you now.
Mary Jo is leaving, like I told you, and I’m going to need someone to run my office, deal with all the organisational stuff.
I thought it might suit you.’ He looks at me and cocks his head.
‘What? Where?’
‘Boston, of course. You run my office, organise the diary, make sure I get to events, that kind of thing. I can find you an apartment and the pay’s pretty good.’ He’s looking straight ahead, like the poker player who knows he’s holding the winning hand.
Oh my God, this was everything I could have hoped for! A new job, far away from here. A fresh start.
The hens let out another almighty squawk and I still can’t see Grace. I have to find out if everything’s OK.
‘Just give me an hour or so to get my stuff. I’ll meet you back at the chalet.’
‘Arr, for feck’s sake!’ Sean shouted as he looked in a cupboard for painkillers and ended up knocking packets of neatly stacked cereal boxes to the floor.
Even Grace didn’t jump forward to hoover up the bits, just stood patiently behind him.
He clutched his back. He was cross, mostly with himself.
He shouldn’t have gone away. He shouldn’t have trusted his business to someone else.
He was cross for taking his hands off the reins.
A drunken blowout, here, for feck’s sake!
So close to the oysters. He’d made it clear no one was to come to the farm.
If he was honest, though, he’d been so riled because he’d found the farm so different to how he’d been expecting it.
He thought she’d be here on her own. He’d wanted to thank her for her hard work and loyalty, but she’d had plenty of company.
In particular that Dan. He thought she’d have better taste.
It was Margaret leading her astray; she was even starting to dress like her.
But she wasn’t Margaret, she was lovely-looking as she was, natural.
He stopped and pulled himself up. What was wrong with him?
Now he was talking as if he fancied her.
‘Aww!’ he cried out again, pain shooting up through his lower spine. He dropped to the floor and lay there until the pain stopped. Grace whimpered and lay down by his side.
But she’d caused him trouble too, he reminded himself, looking up at the plastered ceiling.
If it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t have lost all those oysters in the first place.
And now she’d let the world and his wife up on the farm, anyone could have found out about the native oysters.
And on top of that she’d organised his house, the sheds and his business to within an inch of its life and he couldn’t find a feckin’ thing!
He needed to find the painkillers, and then get the oysters into the van and get to market before he lost his pitch to the olive guy.
When he got back, he’d go and check the oysters.
He went to lift himself up.
‘Aggghhh!’
He needed help, he thought resignedly. He needed Fi. He couldn’t do this without her, but there was no way she’d come back now. He’d seen her leave with Dan, wrapped in his arms.
‘Arggggghhh!’ he yelled again, loudly, and collapsed back onto the floor.
The hens cluck round me like a returning friend. Even Brenda has second thoughts about chasing me and flaps around, delighted to be let out of her shed. I feed Freddie and Mercury. Down by the shore the oyster bags are in the shallows, waiting to be pulled out to go to market.
I take a deep breath and knock on the cottage door. There’s no reply. I knock again.
‘Go away!’ comes the reply.
I steady myself. I’m not scared of Sean Thornton.
‘I’ve come for my stuff,’ I say crossly, and then Grace barks. ‘Sean, I’ve come for my stuff.’ But he doesn’t reply. Well, it’s still my home too until I get my things, and I push down the door handle and march in.
I catch my breath. Sean’s lying on the floor. His face is pale, his eyes deep-set and dark.
‘Don’t go getting all panicky on me. I’m just doing some back exercises,’ he says, grimacing.
‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ I say, and rub Grace’s head, then she bolts outside. But I am worried. He’s obviously in a lot of pain.
I go into my room to fetch my things, wondering what to do.
‘I’m going then,’ I say, with a carrier bag of belongings, mostly made up of a torn and trashed wedding dress.
‘OK,’ Sean says.
Oh, he was so annoying.
‘Do you want a hand getting up?’ I offer.
‘Nope, just lying here, stretching out my back.’ He goes to make a move and yells in pain. ‘Just need to stretch out and then I’ll get to market. Was looking for painkillers but some idiot’s moved them.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ I drop the bag and go to him.
‘’S OK,’ Sean says again. He’s pale and there are beads of sweat on his forehead.
‘Who did this?’ I take hold of his upper arm and help him to sit up. ‘Was it Jimmy Power and his lad?’
Sean screws up his face. ‘What?’
‘The loan shark? Jimmy Power? Did he come back?’ Guilt is wrapping itself round me like a growing vine. I should have warned him.
‘What d’you mean “come back”?’ He’s struggling to his feet with my help. His face contorts in pain again and I hold him up. He can’t talk and walk.
‘Really, I don’t need any help,’ he says, as I let him lean on me as we slowly make our way to his bedroom, him holding the backs of chairs all the way. He’s short of breath. ‘I just need a little lie down and then I’ll be fine. Tell me about Jimmy Power.’
‘He came here looking for you last night. Said he was checking up on his investment.’ I take a deep breath. ‘He … wanted to … he made a pass at me. And he wasn’t offering oysters and champagne with it!’
Sean stops and holds the door handle. ‘The bastard! I’m going to see him. Right after I’ve been to market!’ he spits angrily.
‘You can’t go to market. You can’t even stand up straight,’ I say, guiding him to the bed and letting go of him. He falls onto it, wincing.
‘Did he hurt you?’
I shake my head. ‘Frank arrived just in time, and the others. They were brilliant, Frank, Margaret and Dan.’
He looks down. I can’t tell if it’s fury or pain on his face.
‘Let me help you,’ I say, going to lift his legs.
‘I said I’ll be fine. I don’t need anyone’s help!’ he shouts, and then collapses down onto the pillows.
I storm into the kitchen and find the painkillers from the medicine box I’ve made on top of the kitchen cupboards. I fill a large glass with water and take it back into the bedroom. He hasn’t moved. I put down the water and the tablets on the bedside table. He goes to roll over.
‘I told you,’ he says, the pain clear in his eyes.
‘I know, you don’t need any help! You never do! You’re a stubborn fool, Sean Thornton!’ I blurt out. I turn to march out.
‘What’s it got to do with you? You don’t even work here any more!’
‘Seeing as you weren’t paying me anyway, it doesn’t make much of a difference.
’ I slam out of the cottage with Grace by my side.
I’m furious with him. He’s obviously in so much pain he can’t even stand.
I have never met anyone so determined not to ask for help.
If only I knew how he’d hurt his back. Was it my fault?
I march down to the water’s edge, grab the oyster sacks and load them into the van.
Then, with Grace in the passenger seat, I climb into the van and turn the key.
At first she won’t start. On the second attempt she coughs and splutters but still doesn’t catch.
I’m beginning to panic. The last thing I want is Sean lurching out of the house to find me taking his van.
‘Come on!’ I shout, putting all my frustrations into standing on the accelerator and willing the engine to life. I’ve never driven a van before but it can’t be that different from a camper van. Oh God, stealing big vehicles is becoming a habit!
‘Come on, old girl!’ I shout as she roars into life, and in a funny way I feel I have too.