Chapter Forty
I thought they were breaking up, not getting married! This must be what he’d meant when he said he was sorry.
‘Hey, congratulations,’ Dan comes over and kisses Nancy on the cheek and shakes Sean by the reluctant hand.
‘Thank you,’ Nancy poses for another picture.
‘Hope you don’t mind me taking your fiancée out for dinner as part of her prize,’ Dan jokes. Sean doesn’t move.
‘It was the perfect time to do it, what with all the press here,’ Nancy says under her breath. ‘Great publicity. The Pearl Queen and her oyster catcher, did you get that?’ she says loudly to the journalist.
‘We should’ve discussed this,’ Sean says under his breath, but I overhear.
‘Sorry. I just saw the opportunity and went for it. It’s great for business. Now, pose for a picture. Sorry, my shy fiancé,’ she flirts with the journalist. ‘And think how happy Maman and Papa will be.’ Sean looks at her then excuses himself and goes for a cigarette.
‘Congratulations,’ I’m quick to say to Nancy, to show I’m not at all distressed.
‘Thank you,’ she says smugly and sips her drink. ‘And once we’re married, what’s his is mine, right?’ She arches an eyebrow at me. ‘It’s our business. So whatever you think you might have overheard, or whatever plans you might have had for you and Sean, he and I are engaged now. It’s our business.’
The oysters. Of course, why else would she want to do this? She thinks I’m going to tell him about her plan. She thinks I’m going to get in between her and the native oysters.
I take the tea towel from Margaret and mop the spilt drink from my dress.
‘They’re getting married.’ Margaret looks like she’s had all the fight taken out of her. She picks up a glass of Prosecco from the bar and knocks it back in one. Her night couldn’t get any worse.
I knock back another Prosecco too.
‘I thought it was a casual thing, a relationship of convenience,’ I say without thinking. Too late. Margaret is staring at me in horror.
‘It wasn’t Dan, was it? It was Sean!’
She bursts into tears and runs out of the bar.
Nancy looks like a peacock showing off its colours, surrounded by the press.
I feel like a bigger fool than I ever did when I first arrived here.
It’s happening all over again. I grab my waterproof and half run, half stumble all the way back to the cottage.
In my room I pull out the letter that arrived at the farm.
It’s from Brian. But I can’t read it. My eyes are full of tears.
I put my face into Grace’s fur and she keeps me company until dawn finally comes.
Sean drove back to the farm just before dawn and went straight out on the boat.
What a fucking mess! He held his face to the wind and shut his eyes.
His body ached from sleeping on Nancy’s settee.
They’d had an almighty row when they got back after Nancy’s engagement announcement in the pub and he’d refused to join her in bed.
He knew there was no way he could come home last night. Not until he’d worked this mess out.
He didn’t love Nancy. They’d never talked about marriage.
She’d never wanted anything like that. It was a relationship that had worked for both of them.
And then he’d met Fi. Funny, sweet, kind, trustworthy, brave Fi.
She was a lioness, protecting what she cared about.
And he thought she had come to care about him.
There’d been no mistaking the chemistry between them that day on the boat.
He gave a little shiver of excitement at the memory.
The heron’s wings beat rhythmically beside him.
He didn’t want to marry Nancy, but without Nancy and the restaurant he wouldn’t be able to pay the loan back. He’d lose the farm, but most worrying of all, he’d lose Fi – if he couldn’t offer her a job she’d leave and he’d never see her again.
He let out the ropes, urged the boat to go faster. He stood up, feeling the full force of the wind against his body, shutting his eyes.
Nancy had organised an engagement party for the night before the oyster festival in The Pearl. All her friends and family were coming over from France and she hoped it would swell numbers even more and start the festival weekend with a bang.
There was nothing else for it. He had to go ahead with Nancy’s plan or he’d lose Fi for good.
The final few days before the festival drag.
The weather matches my mood: dark, grey and miserable.
Margaret hasn’t been anywhere near the farm and Sean has been staying in Galway, coming back early in the morning to harvest the oysters.
He’s out on the boat, dredging them, and I’m in the shed, washing, purifying and bagging them ready for festival day.
We work silently from sun up to sun down.
When the tide is too far out to get the boat close to shore we float the oysters in on a raft and then load them onto the tractor and I drive them to the shed.
I am more alone than I have ever felt before, and not in the physical sense.
I’ve quite enjoyed being here with Grace, Freddie and Mercury, Brenda and the hens.
But I have lost Sean for good. And I have lost my best friend.
I take a break and sit down on a rock, on the banks of the bay, and hug my knees to my chest. Oh God!
I cringe, putting my head on my knees. I’ve ruined everything.
The day before the festival, I’m up early but we’ve run out of tea. I grab my bag, call Grace and walk into town, swatting away midges as I wander towards Rosie’s in the early morning mist.
Outside the B she knows more about what’s written in it than I do.
‘Brian knows where you are now, what you’re doing,’ she says, confirming more details of the letter. I hold it to my tightening chest.
‘I want you gone,’ she says, turning on her heel.
‘Or else everyone will know about your wedding day fiasco and how you ended up an oyster farmer’s assistant in the middle of nowhere.
You’ll turn this farm into a tabloid tourist destination.
There’ll be strangers crawling all over the place wanting to get a glimpse of the runaway bride. ’
‘And what about Sean, what about what he wants?’
‘Sean doesn’t want unwanted visitors! You’ve seen what happens when members of the public come up here.
He wants his farm and the quiet life. He’ll do anything to keep it.
We both get what we want from this,’ she shouts over her shoulder.
‘Sean pays his licence, I get my oysters. We’re both happy.
Sean would never pick you over his farm,’ she laughs hollowly and goes to get into her car.
Just at that moment Sean’s van comes down the lane. He pulls up next to Nancy and gets out quickly.
‘What’s going on?’ he asks, concerned, looking from Nancy to me. I don’t know what to do. Should I tell him? Or is she right? Would I ruin him if I say anything? Will I ruin him if I stay?
‘Fi and I were just going over the arrangements for the weekend. Making sure we understand exactly what needs to happen.’ She pulls down her dark glasses and walks towards her car.
Humiliation returns to hit me round the face like a wet fish. This time it’s worse than before, with Brian. This time I’d had my eyes wide open; I knew he was taken. Only this time I actually fell in love. But he chose Nancy, not me. He chose his business, not me. I feel used, stupid and ashamed.
I look at the pair of them. ‘You know what, you two deserve each other.’ I throw down the broom with a clatter and walk towards them.
I don’t have anything to lose any more. ‘I would rather spend one day with someone I love and who loves me back than a lifetime married to someone because it “worked” for me. I thank God my fiancé Brian didn’t have the balls to go through with married life.
At least I’ve finally managed to find out what it means to really love someone.
And if I never feel that again, at least I will have known what it was like.
’ I take a deep breath to stop any tears falling and then turn and run off down the lane towards town.
‘Fi, wait!’ I hear Sean shout, but I just keep running, well, until I’m out of sight of the farm.
My heart is pumping and so are my veins.
I put my hands to my knees and take huge dragging breaths.
Then slowly I stand up and walk the rest of the way into town.
I am going to leave, like Nancy said, because I don’t want to stay and watch Sean and Nancy get married.
I can’t see him with someone else, someone he doesn’t love.
But I won’t go to my mum’s. I’m not going back to that.
I need to keep moving forwards. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll be able to stop running.