‘I came back here because it was the only place I ever felt safe and loved,’ Juliet said, softly. ‘I don’t know if I fully realised that when I made the decision, but I do now. And I know that a large part of that feeling was down to you.’
That earned her a small smile. ‘I got over myself, obviously. Realised that if you were here for help then I’d need to give it to you, because what else could I do? I loved you, Juliet. I’ve always loved you, ever since we were kids and didn’t even know what that meant. So if you needed help, I’d help. It was as simple as that.’
Loved her. As a friend, like they’d always been. Not in love with her. She had to focus on that distinction and not get carried away here. ‘And you did. There were vitamins and books and advice about bras . . . but what I don’t fully get is where the marriage proposal came in.’
He winced. ‘Yeah. You can blame Mrs Hillier in the pharmacy for that, if you like.’
‘Why, exactly?’
‘Because I was buying you more vitamins and ginger chews and she said to me, “Doesn’t that friend of yours have a good husband to buy these for her?” and I thought . . . no, but she could have.’
Juliet blinked. ‘So, basically the regressive social norms of this island – which I spent years plotting to escape – led you to believe that if I was married everything would be OK?’
Rory rubbed a hand across his forehead. ‘It sounds bad when you put it like that. And, no. Not exactly. I just . . . I wanted to look after you. And if I was going to be stuck in love with you for the rest of my life I figured . . . why not? Why not make it official that I took care of you?’
‘And you thought that was what I wanted? Someone else to fix my problems, as usual.’ She sighed. ‘I can see where you got that idea. But actually . . . I like to think I’ve grown up at least a little bit since those days. I want to fix my own problems. And this baby? It’s not a problem at all. It’s a little miracle. An opportunity that’s given me back something I thought I could never have – my home. Coming back here this summer . . . I feel like I’ve grown up enough to appreciate Seashell Island at last. And to value everything it has to offer.’
‘I’m glad. This place . . . it’s more than just an island. It’s home.’ Rory twisted round to look at her. ‘So, if I sign on for this restaurant thing, how is it going to work? Between you and me, I mean.’
‘Well, we’ll be business partners. And friends, I hope.’ She’d given this a lot of thought. She’d already turned down his offer of marriage, because she knew his reasons for asking weren’t the right ones. She might still have feelings for him, but there were a dozen reasons why starting a new relationship with him right now was a bad idea.
‘Just friends.’ He sighed. ‘OK. I can live with that.’
Juliet paused. Was that . . . disappointment? Did he want something more, too?
Something tickled at the back of her brain. Something he’d said. She’d been concentrating on the fact he’d been trying to marry her to save her reputation, in some Jane Austen sort of way, and she’d missed the most important thing.
Wait.
If I was going to be stuck in love with you for the rest of my life . . .
‘Wait. Did you say you’re in love with me?’
‘Very. Did you miss that part?’
‘Of course not.’
‘That’s a yes.’
Hard to lie to someone who knew her better than she knew herself, most of the time.
‘Just to be completely clear,’ he said, turning to meet her gaze head on and taking her hands in his. ‘I’m in love with you. I’ve always been in love with you. And if there’s even a chance of you feeling the same way, I’d like us to explore that. Together.’
Her heart seemed to stop inside her chest. A chance? There was a hell of a lot more than that. But . . .
‘But I’m going to be a mother, Rory!’
‘I know.’
‘To someone else’s child!’
‘I know that too.’
She shook her head. ‘You don’t get it. I have to focus on that before everything else. You’d never matter more than the baby will.’
‘I understand that.’
‘And if I’m going to stay on the island I need to find a way to make sure the Lighthouse stays profitable. Which means I’ll be working, a lot, so I’d be a rubbish girlfriend.’
‘I’m used to that.’
She elbowed him in the ribs. ‘And at some point I’m going to have to go back to London and deal with my stuff and my flat and my housemate and my ex-boss who’s also the father of my baby. Which you’ll hate.’
‘I know.’
‘And you still want to do this anyway?’ she asked, incredulously.
‘Yes.’ He reached up a hand and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, leaving his fingers lingering against her cheek. ‘I’ll love the baby because it’s a part of you, and I love every part of you. And the rest of it . . . Juliet, I’ve waited ten years to have another chance with you. If you think that any of those things are enough to make me wait a second longer, then you are seriously underestimating how in love with you I really am.’
His gaze was locked on hers now, and she could feel herself moving closer to him without even trying. Like magnets were drawing them together.
‘You’re sure?’ she asked, giving him one last chance to pull away. ‘We’ll be business partners, friends and lovers and, I guess, parents? You want all of that with me?’
‘Juliet, I want every single part of you. I want to build that life, here on Seashell Island, with you. If you’ll have me.’
She kissed him, then, because how could she not?
Relief flowed through her like sea air in her lungs, a feeling of home and rightness and forever that she’d never felt in London.
After long moments, she pulled back, resting her forehead against his. ‘When you proposed, I thought . . . the whole island tour thing, I thought you wanted me to go backwards. To be the Juliet I was when I left. And while I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life next just then, I knew in my heart I needed to move forward. But . . . I think moving forward with you could be pretty wonderful. Building that life you talked about, together . . . I want that too. More than anything.’
He kissed her again, then slipped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. With the lighthouse at her back, Juliet looked out over the sea towards the mainland, her head resting against his shoulder.
She knew herself well enough to know that she’d still need to escape the confines of Seashell Island again from time to time, and she’d want her baby to know the rest of the world too. And that was fine.
Because she could always come home to Seashell Island. And Rory.
‘Happy?’ he murmured against her hair.
‘Happiest,’ she replied.
They sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the waves and the sunlight playing on the water. It wasn’t until they heard Owain’s voice through the speakers on the festival field that they realised how late it must have grown.
‘Come on,’ Juliet said, tugging Rory to his feet. ‘We need to get back down there.’
They were almost back to the festival when something caught Juliet’s eye in the family area. ‘Wait. Is that . . . ?’
‘Your mum juggling fire sticks?’ Rory finished, his voice faint. ‘Um, yeah. I think it is.’
Juliet grabbed his hand and set off for the festival at a run.
MIRANDA
Miranda had intended to go straight from the stage to finding Owain, to talk to him at last about her plans. Unfortunately, the crowds of locals waiting to congratulate her and wish her luck had other ideas. By the time she’d made it through, Owain was nowhere to be seen.
Heart thumping, Miranda tried not to take that as a bad sign.
Her phone
buzzed in her pocket and she grabbed for it, hoping it would be Owain, and was disappointed when the screen revealed a text message from her brother.
Mum and Dad are here! Come find us! We’re in the kids’ area.
She read it twice, blinking hard between readings, just to make sure she had it right.
Her parents were home? Now? Why?
And then she was running, racing across the festival site, weaving between vendors and stalls and the occasional loose animal, heading for the kids’ zone.
She slowed at last as her parents came into view. Dad, tanned and relaxed, leaned against the fence surrounding the petting zoo, watching as Mum juggled batons and Christabel tried to teach Abby and Mia some juggling basics with some simpler bean balls.
‘Auntie Miri! Did you know Grandma can juggle?’ Abby asked, as Miranda approached. With a smile, Josie caught all five sticks and placed them on the bench, as Iestyn pushed away from the fence to join them.
‘I didn’t even know Grandma was back in the country!’ Miranda hugged her mother, then her father. ‘Why didn’t you tell us you were coming back?’
‘We thought it would be a surprise,’ Josie explained. ‘And actually . . .’ She glanced over at her husband.
‘We don’t think we’ll be staying long,’ Iestyn finished for her.
‘You’re going travelling again?’ Miranda asked, surprised to find that she wasn’t surprised at all.
‘As are you, we understand,’ Josie said. ‘But yes. We’ve been invited out to stay with some friends we met on our travels, who live out on the west coast of America and, well, your dad has always wanted to do a road trip along that coast so we thought, well, why not? We’ll be home for Christmas, I’m sure.’
‘And then I can feel Japan beckoning me,’ Iestyn said. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to Japan.’
‘But you’ll come home again, right, Grandad?’ Mia asked. ‘We will still see you, won’t we?’
‘Of course!’ Iestyn flung his arms around both his granddaughters’ shoulders, although he had to kneel almost in the grass to get down that low. ‘We’ll always come home again, because how else could we bore you with all our stories about the places we’ve been?’
‘And because we’ll miss you,’ Josie added. ‘But we’ll send postcards, and we can still Skype. It won’t be very different from you two being in London and us being here!’
That seemed to satisfy them, as they ran back off to where Christabel was blowing enormous bubbles with a rope hoop.
‘Wait,’ Miranda said, because those sorts of assurances might work for nine- and six-year-olds, but she was going to need a little more. ‘You’re leaving again? Because there are some things we need to talk about before you decide that.’
Josie and Iestyn shared a look that didn’t look unlike the ones that Leo and Juliet used to share when Miranda tried to instil some sort of order and control over them as kids.
‘Of course,’ Josie said. ‘Do you want to wait for your brother and sister?’
She should, Miranda knew. But she needed some answers straight away, just for her own peace of mind. ‘We’ll talk to them too, later. But first . . . the Lighthouse. There are no bookings for the rest of the year. And Leo and I found the sales brochure from the estate agents . . .’
‘That was just a draft,’ Iestyn said, motioning for them all to sit down on the bench by the fence to talk. ‘We wanted to know what it would be worth as it was, if we decided to sell it.’
‘And have you?’
‘Not yet,’ Josie said, as she sat. ‘But with you leaving—’
‘I think Juliet might want to stay.’ Miranda blurted out, then grinned at the confused astonishment on her parents’ faces. ‘I know, I know. I was as surprised as you. But things have changed. We’ve all changed this summer. And it’s up to her to tell you all about it, but . . . talk to her first.’
‘We will,’ Iestyn promised. ‘And as for our plans . . . I think we’ve been rather bitten by the adventure bug again.’
‘We saved for decades to be able to take a big trip, once you were all grown up and settled,’ Josie added. ‘And it’s brilliant to be able to do that at last.’
‘So it’s not because, well, either of you are sick?’
Her parents both laughed at that. ‘Why would you think that?’ Josie asked. ‘We’re both in better health now than we’ve been in years. All that sunshine, sea air, and morning yoga on deck.’
‘And you’re not . . . in financial difficulty?’ Miranda thought she’d better check, since they were having all the awkward conversations right now.
Iestyn shrugged. ‘No more than anyone else on the island,’ he said. ‘My writing might not have ever made us rich, but together with the paintings your mum sold in the gallery in town, as well as the income from the Lighthouse . . . we’re doing fine. As long as you lot aren’t expecting some windfall inheritance.’
‘No! No, nothing like that. We were just . . . worried.’
Iestyn patted her arm. ‘Miranda, we’re grown adults. We can take care of ourselves, you know.’
‘I know.’ They all could, it seemed. And the only person Miranda really had to worry about was herself.
That was sort of freeing, in a way.
‘Now, I want a turn with those juggling fire sticks,’ Josie said, jumping to her feet and heading towards the circus skills area. ‘Much more exciting than the boring normal ones!’ She gave Iestyn a meaningful look before she went, which Miranda interpreted as it being his turn to find out what was going on with her.
It usually was his turn. She loved her mother very much, but she’d always been better with Leo and Juliet’s problems. When Miranda was worried, even as a child, she turned to her dad.
‘So. Quite the party you’ve pulled off here,’ Iestyn said, when it was just the two of them again. ‘How about we leave your mum with the girls and you show me around a bit.’
‘OK. And don’t forget, we need you to light the lighthouse lamp, once it gets dark.’
‘Of course.’ Iestyn smiled, the smile he’d always seemed to keep just for her, and Miranda felt warm and safe all over again. More proof, if she’d needed it, that security and happiness came more from the people she loved, than from where she stayed. Seashell Island was precious and home, but the people on it mattered more to her than the land itself.
They wandered together around the festival field, locals stopping Iestyn to welcome him home, and stallholders stopping Miranda to check some detail or another. Rory wasn’t on the Flying Fish stand, she noticed as they passed. Hopefully that meant that Juliet was holding up her side of the bravery pact, too.
As they walked, Miranda filled her dad in on everything that had happened while they’d been away – starting with Paul dumping her, Leo and Juliet coming home, the band staying at the Lighthouse, the festival planning . . . everything except Juliet and Leo’s secrets and decisions, which were their own to tell, and the exact nature of her relationship with the lead singer of that aforementioned band.
Some things, a father just didn’t need to know.
‘And now you’re ready to leave at last?’ he asked. ‘I always wondered if you would. All those maps and adventure stories, I felt sure you were bound for a great adventure one day. But then you never seemed to be ready to go.’
‘I think I am, now,’ she said. ‘I was . . . I was scared, before. That if I left, something would go wrong here. Like the time I went to Cardiff University for the open day and Juliet nearly drowned. I just felt—’
‘You felt responsible for the family, and the Lighthouse. For all of us.’ Iestyn sighed. ‘I always knew that you thought you were the only grown-up in the family. That we’d all fall apart without you. And maybe you were right. But Miranda . . . sometimes, you need to let others find their own way. Make their own mistakes. Figure out their own futures.’
‘Then it’s a good thing we went,’ Iestyn decided. ‘Because I think you’re going to have the most marvellous adventures, my girl. And I can’t wait to hear all about them.’
They smiled at each other and, Iestyn’s arm around her shoulder, they made their way across the rest of the site. Finally, they reached the stage, and Miranda slipped them around to the side through the security ropes – manned by an understanding Dafydd.
Owain and the others were just preparing to go onstage, but he put down his guitar and crossed over to them, kissing Miranda hello as if by habit. ‘I’ve been looking for you all afternoon. I heard your speech before. Does this mean—’
Definitely time to interrupt. ‘Owain, this is my dad, Iestyn. He and Mum have popped home for a brief break in their travels.’
‘Nice to meet you, Mr Waters.’ Owain shook Iestyn’s hand, but then turned straight back to Miranda. ‘You’re leaving Seashell Island. For real?’
‘I . . . am. Yes. Terrifying as that still sounds.’
Owain placed a hand against her cheek. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
‘I’m pretty proud of myself, to be honest.’
‘Have you thought about where you’re going?’ Owain asked.
‘I think I’d like to see some more of the world,’ Miranda said. ‘I have all this money saved up for the wedding that never happened, and I think . . . I think I just want to spend it exploring. Finding myself, if we’re going to be clichéd about it. I want to drink coffee in Paris and eat sauerkraut in Berlin and visit the salt mines in Poland . . . everything, really.’
‘All the places on those maps on the cottage walls, huh?’
‘Apparently the itchy feet gene didn’t skip a generation after all.’
‘Did you think you might like some company, for any of this travelling?’ Owain asked. ‘Only . . . that meeting I mentioned? It was about a last-minute slot supporting another band on their European tour. I could give you the itinerary, just in case any of your stops happened to coincide with ours?’
Summer on Seashell Island: Escape to an island this summer for the perfect heartwarming romance in 2020 (Riley Wolfe 1) Page 30