Chapter 44
CLARK
When everyone left, I called Dad. Pearl’s words about building a bridge with him were still on my mind.
I don’t want him to spend the rest of his life not knowing that I loved him.
It was late and I didn’t think he would still be awake.
He picked up after two rings. ‘Hello, son,’ he said in his usual gravelly voice. It made tears prick my eyes.
‘Dad, I’ve not woken you?’
He laughed. ‘No, I have always been a night owl. You okay?’
I fought back a wave of emotion and took a deep breath. ‘I want you to know that I love you.’
He chuckled. ‘You had too many ciders, son?’
‘Maybe,’ I said, which lightened my mood a little. ‘I wanted to tell you that and to say I’m sorry for not talking to you for ten years.’
I heard him sigh. ‘I could have called you, Clark. It wasn’t just you. I feel guilty too. It’s not been easy.’
‘Well, I’d better go and get some sleep.’
‘I appreciate the call, son. Goodnight and I will see you soon.’
After he’d hung up, I cried my heart out, though once my tears had stopped, I felt lighter and proud of myself for telling him I loved him.
I was awake half the night visualising the perfect last day; we drive to Pixie Cove, Pearl and Rodney have an emotional reunion, Florence and I go to the beach while Pearl and Rodney enjoy their time together, we find a rock where we can go out of sight and get to know each other more intimately, drive back and then before the storm, Florence and I will go to bed and have the best sex ever.
As the storm rips the roof off my house, Florence will be screaming my name in ecstasy and complimenting me on my amazing performance in bed.
My mind reminded me that no woman has ever shouted my name during the throes of passion or made comments on my love-making abilities.
It also cruelly replayed one of my ex-girlfriends telling me she’d lost interest after six minutes and me catching Margo sneakily playing on her phone.
I have always got the impression that Florence thinks I’m a sort of male tart.
Over the years she’s often insinuated that I’m constantly bedding women.
And yes, I’ve had a few partners, but I’m not a highly experienced sex god.
Worry bloomed inside of me as I hoped that when we finally do have sex, she’s not left feeling let down or on her phone playing Candy Crush.
Florence and Pearl knocked at my door before I’d had a chance to have some breakfast. They were both like two excited schoolgirls. Amazingly, despite glugging back all that wine at the barbecue, Pearl didn’t have a hangover.
We’re now in the car. Pearl’s wearing a big smile and her eyes have a twinkle that I have not seen before.
She and Florence are chatting away about the party and chuckling about Minty dancing with Laura.
‘He’s the size of a house,’ says Pearl. ‘When I saw them swaying to the music, I did think whether they make beds big enough for him.’ Florence and I both laugh.
‘Also, what is with all that grunting? I told him at one point to talk properly.’
I look in the mirror at Pearl and my heart swells. This is the Pearl I know and love.
It’s going to be hot for most of the day, and then tonight there will be a storm with torrential rain and strong winds. Florence did have a wobble earlier before she got in the car, but I reassured her and she was okay. Inside I am panicking but I will not show this as I need to be strong.
‘Jane’s podcast,’ says Florence. ‘She’s put it live.’
I nod. ‘Stick it on.’
In a few seconds, Jane’s voice fills the car. ‘“Welcome to The Lonely-Hearts Podcast. In each episode, I read out anonymous letters from lonely hearts, hoping that one day they’ll find the courage to break free from their loneliness…”’
Pearl claps. ‘I loved this the other day.’
Florence turns around to her. ‘It’s great, isn’t it?’
‘Who would think listening to lonely souls would be so entertaining?’
‘“On this week’s show, we are going to be hearing from Chipshoplady, who misses her ex-boyfriend, whom she broke up with after the man from the pizza shop made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.
Sadly, the pizza man didn’t live up to expectations, and now she wishes her ex-boyfriend would come and order a battered sausage. ”’
Pearl is chuckling away in the back, and it makes me smile.
‘“We will also be hearing from LottieGold, who has moved to a new city and doesn’t know anyone. She’s feeling lonely and is wondering whether she should get back in contact with her ex, who cheated on her last year, but she’s willing to forgive him.”’
‘No, don’t do it,’ we all shout, which makes us laugh.
‘“Finally, we will be hearing from The8.24trainguy who met a pretty redhead last year in a café queue and can’t stop thinking about her.”’
Florence smiles. ‘That’s Sam. Oh wow, the search for Beth has started.’
We all listen to Jane’s podcast and when we get to Sam’s email, I turn up the volume.
‘Wow,’ utters Pearl. ‘I feel like dating him myself after listening to all that.’
The podcast sounds good and I know Florence was involved in its making. Reaching over, I give her hand a squeeze. ‘Great work.’
She smiles. ‘I hope Beth listens to it. I know it’s a long shot, but miracles do happen. Can you imagine if she’s a single mum who still dreams about the man she met on the 8.24 train and listens to that episode?’
‘I hope she does.’
‘Good luck to Sam,’ shouts Pearl. ‘Such a nice young man and he can cook – always a good sign.’
Florence places her hand on my arm. ‘I’m glad I helped Jane and Sam.’
I nod. ‘I hope he finds her.’
Pixie Cove looks stunning. The sky is cloudless, the sun’s rays bounce off the waves, and the azure-blue sea looks like it’s made of crystals.
We follow the winding road up to the cliff road and there is Mr Beaver’s duck-egg blue cottage. I glance in the back mirror. Pearl is smiling, which is a relief.
‘Are you okay, Pearl?’
She nods. ‘As ready as I will ever be.’
We all get out and Florence goes ahead to knock on Mr Beaver’s door.
It’s hot and I can feel the sun beating down on my neck.
I walk with Pearl up the path.
We knock and knock but there is no answer. ‘He must have gone out,’ says Pearl with dismay.
‘He won’t have gone far,’ I say, ‘Let’s go into town and get a drink.’
‘Do you think he goes far?’ Florence asks me.
I hide my unease with a shrug. ‘He’ll be back.’
I drive us into the centre of Pixie Bay and manage to find a parking space. As I step out of the car, the salty smell of the chips and the aroma of battered fish tickle my nostrils.
We walk to the edge of the quay and watch tourists wade out into the sea.
Above our heads seagulls are playing a noisy game of chase, and below on the beach, tiny children are squealing with delight as they race across the sand.
The sun is bathing the golden sand with its warm rays.
There are people lying on towels and I see a man carrying a tray of ice-creams onto the beach.
I look over at the little promenade. ‘Shall we go and get a drink? There looks like there is a café over there.’
The café is nice and quaint but not as good as Florence’s. I told her this and was rewarded with a kiss.
We’re sitting outside, sipping cooling lemonades, and Pearl is having a cup of tea.
The beach is in front of us. Waves are taking their time to reach the shore and when they do, they break with little fuss.
A few chattering seagulls are circling above our heads.
It’s like we’ve found a piece of paradise.
In my head, I’m trying to fix the image in place in my mind; the colour of the water, the way the sunlight reflects on Florence’s hair and the sound of Pearl laughing.
If I notice everything it will stay in my memory for a long time.
The waves keep coming and Florence is holding my hand underneath the table.
I need to distract myself from the thought that this is our final day.
I survey the beach. To my dismay there are no large rocks. That means Florence and I won’t be able to have some fun in private. The beach is also busy, and I can’t see any quiet spots. I can feel my sprits sinking. This is supposed to be our amazing last day.
‘We should have contacted him before we came,’ says Florence, placing her shades on top of her head.
‘Yes,’ I sigh. ‘I got carried away thinking about seeing his and Pearl’s reunion. He didn’t strike me as someone who goes out a lot.’
Florence shakes her head. ‘I can’t see Mr Beaver as a happy day tripper.’
‘It will be fine,’ I say, injecting an air of confidence into my voice. ‘He’ll be back soon.’
It’s late afternoon and my plan hasn’t worked. There’s been no sign of Mr Beaver. We’ve spent the day with Pearl, which has been nice, but I would have preferred to have left her at Mr Beaver’s house and had my wicked way with Florence on the beach.
We’re on our way back to his cottage for one final check. If he’s not in, we shall head back, as we don’t want to get stuck in the bad weather with Pearl in the car.
As I get out of the driver’s seat, I look towards Mr Beaver’s cottage. I wonder whether I will see him one last time.
Florence holds my hand as we make the familiar trip to his front door. ‘I have enjoyed our last day,’ she says, rubbing my arm.
‘It’s not gone to plan.’
She laughs. ‘I’m not sure I wanted sand in my knickers, Clark. Would make an uncomfortable trip home.’
I laugh but secretly groan.
Pearl knocks on the door. There’s still no answer.
We all turn around and head back to the car with heavy hearts. I’m about to open the car door for Pearl when we hear a voice.
‘Pearl?’
We turn around, and there he is. Mr Beaver. He’s walking towards us. ‘Pearl – is that you?’
I look at Pearl, who looks like she’s been frozen in time. Gently I touch her arm. ‘It’s okay,’ I whisper. ‘We don’t have to do this.’
Her face comes to life, and she smiles nervously. I put my arm around her and give her a hug as he approaches. ‘It’s okay. I am here with you.’
Rodney is getting nearer.
Pearl gasps. ‘It’s Rodney. It’s really him.’
Then she glances at me and I know she’s found her confidence. With a smile she breaks free of my arm.
‘Rodney,’ she cries, and we watch them both half walk, half run to each other.
Tears prick my eyes as I watch her fall into his arms.
Florence cuddles up to me, and I put my arm around her. ‘We did it, Clark. We have finally reunited two lost souls.’
‘It feels nice,’ I say as Mr Beaver twirls Pearl around.
‘I’m glad we came all this way,’ says Florence, leaning her head against my shoulder. ‘It was worth it for this sight.’