Sixty-Six
The Ocean Breeze centre was located in an area of picturesque countryside a few miles north of Hambleton. The refurbished Victorian manor house stood isolated in its own extensive grounds, with woodland on three sides and a view across the river Wyre on the other.
‘Looks nice,’ Alex said.
‘I should think so, too. It’d be cheaper to stay at the Ritz.’
Miller had already visited, so knew that the accommodation inside was every bit as impressive as the building’s exterior.
Ensuite rooms, a high-end dining area and communal lounge.
More importantly, the detox programme, therapy options and aftercare services offered sounded about as top-notch as such things could get, and the place had certainly received a great many glowing reviews.
Miller had initially been surprised that rehabs could be reviewed in the same way as camping sites or Airbnbs.
Facilities, location, comfort. Still, he was encouraged to see that the Ocean Breeze centre was pretty much ‘five star’ across the board.
In fact, its rating had only been brought down slightly thanks to a one-star review from someone who had clearly been a little confused and complained bitterly that the staff seemed determined to make him give up drugs.
Standing next to Miller on the front lawn, Alex continued to stare at the house. ‘What else were you going to spend the money on?’
‘Well, like I told you, I did quite fancy a Gibson Custom ’59 Les Paul,’ Miller said. ‘Sunburst or maybe flamed maple, I’m not fussy.’ He glanced at Alex. ‘But I take your point.’
‘It’s my money anyway,’ Alex said. ‘When you think about it.’
‘Well, not … really,’ Miller said. ‘You’re the dead one and the money’s actually given to the partner who’s still alive. So they can, you know, spend it.’
‘You’re splitting hairs,’ Alex said. She looked around and shook her head. ‘Not that it matters anyway, because she isn’t coming.’
Miller looked at his watch. Finn was already fifteen minutes late, but he wasn’t hugely concerned. It would not be a shock if she’d got the day wrong. ‘She’ll be here,’ he said. The butterflies in his stomach had grown to the size of small pigeons. ‘I really think she will.’
‘Oh, I meant to say … Gemelli’s is a good choice for tonight.’ Alex pulled at a loose strand of hair. ‘You and Priya.’
‘Right, yeah … but it’s just a pizza. No big deal.’
‘Well, good luck, anyway.’
He looked at her. She was wearing a blue pinafore dress that he’d always loved, and her skin was buttery in the sunshine. He could not remember ever seeing her look more beautiful. ‘Do you mean that?’
‘Of course I don’t.’ Alex stared at him as if he’d lost his marbles. ‘I hope you say something inappropriate and she dumps tiramisu in your lap.’
‘Fair enough,’ Miller said. His stomach lurched when he turned and caught sight of Finn walking towards them across the grass and he instinctively moved past Alex to meet her.
He glanced back, not to say I told you so, keen only to share the moment with her, but his wife had gone.
Finn began jabbering about missing buses and losing track of time before he’d even reached her.
She was out of breath and carrying a rucksack almost as big as she was, and she turned every few steps to check on the progress of the small, wobbly dachshund that was trotting along on a lead behind her.
It had been touch and go until only a few days before, and the fact that the rehab centre had agreed to let her bring Ruby was what had swung things for Finn in the end. A dog would provide comfort and stability, they had said, and would certainly help to reduce anxiety.
Miller had very much wanted to kiss the woman in the admissions office.
They stood together and stared up at the house, much as Miller and Alex had been doing. Finn tugged at her hair, just as her mother had done, and even though she’d recovered her breath, she was fighting to control it.
‘It’s going to be OK,’ Miller said.
‘Yeah, I know.’ The dog barked at her feet and Finn leaned down to stroke and gently shush her. He might have been imagi-ning it, but Miller thought he could see the tension ease a fraction.
‘Right, then.’ Finn straightened up and put her skinny shoulders back.
‘Right, then.’ Miller stepped across to her and the awkwardness of the hug was not helped by the enormous rucksack, which threatened to tip the pair of them on to the grass. ‘Why don’t I carry that for you?’
‘I can manage,’ Finn said.
‘What have you got in there anyway?’
‘Oh … lots and lots of drugs.’ She managed a wonky grin. ‘That’s not a problem, is it?’
‘No, I’m sure they’ll be fine with that,’ Miller said.
‘It’s just clothes and all the stuff for Ruby.’
‘Yeah, course.’ It was Miller’s turn to lean down and make a fuss of the dog. ‘Listen, do you want me to come in with you?’ He said it as though it was no big deal, like it was an afterthought.
‘There’s really no need. I know where everything is.’
‘Right, yeah, course you do.’ They had visited the place together for Finn’s assessment session, and been given the full tour.
That had also been when Miller had spotted Alan, the missing Dance Buddies accompanist who’d accompanied himself with a water bottle filled with vodka.
Miller had clocked him playing Scrabble in the activity room and they’d exchanged brief nods.
He’d sent a message to Mary later that same day, giving no details away, of course, but letting her know that Alan would hopefully be tinkling the ivories for them all again very soon.
‘Thanks for doing this,’ Finn said.
Miller watched her take a step backwards towards the house. ‘I didn’t do anything,’ he said. ‘You’re the one doing it. You’re … amazing.’
‘I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. So …’ She nodded and flashed a quick thumbs-up.
‘You’re strong.’ Miller gave her a double thumbs-up in return. ‘A lot stronger than you think.’
‘So are you.’ She rolled her eyes and hoiked her rucksack a little higher on her back. ‘Even if you spend most of your time trying to convince people you’re a big soft idiot.’
‘I think I’ve already convinced most of them,’ Miller said. He watched her turn and walk towards the house; saw her step through the front door without looking back, the dog scampering in after her.
He knew he should probably just leave, but instead he waited.
He sent a simple text message saying SHE’S IN, to a few of the people he knew would very much want to know: Imran, Mary, Sara Xiu.
He checked the Dance Buddies WhatsApp group and saw that the next practice session would revolve around the waltz, but stepping and sliding was the last thing Miller was interested in at that moment.
When something told him to look up he did so, and saw Finn staring down at him from a first-floor window. He hadn’t caught movement. He’d just known instinctively that she would be there.
She waved and he waved back.
She lifted up the dog, and waggled her paw.
Then Miller watched as Alex appeared behind them and moved close to her daughter’s shoulder. Behind her and a little to one side; stepping gracefully into perfect shadow position, just as she’d always done. Miller couldn’t tell from this distance if she was smiling, but he guessed that she was.
Finally he turned away and walked back to where he’d parked the moped.
He supposed that from now on he’d just have Fred and Ginger for company, for a while at least, but he was happy enough.
Because, whether both of them knew it or not, the two people Declan Miller cared most about in the world, living or dead, had each other.