by Penny Parkes
Yet, as she walked along the harbour towards the beach, her spirits were lifted by the simple image of a dormouse and a familiar refrain of delphiniums and geraniums in hues of red and blue that refused to leave her head.
Chapter 15
Dittisham, ‘Ditsum’, 2019
Oliver had been right, Anna realised, as Chewie exhausted himself running huge loops of the beach, springing in and out of the waves: he was an altogether nicer dog after his walk. Not exactly a pleasant companion, but at least no longer a teenager in revolt, his awkward limbs and impulses seemingly out of his own control.
Resolving to get up even earlier the next day to get the beach all to themselves, she used small cubes of cheddar to excellent effect with each command, popping a piece into her own mouth first, each and every time. Through every gate, she made him wait while she walked ahead, never missing the opportunity to stare him down if only from a few inches above his nose. No matter how uncomfortable it made her feel, being the boss was the only way to get through the week ahead with her body and mind intact.
A mile or so along the coastal path, she turned and looked back, Dittisham – Ditsum, she now heard in her head, with a smile – laid out in nature’s shades of green and blue, the pastel buildings of pink and white and yellow creating the picture postcard view. As Chewie finally deigned to settle down beside her, she allowed herself to breathe: the surprise visit last night, the awkward diplomacy in the Post Office, not to mention the furore with the shoes, had all been deeply unsettling.
Not because Anna had been truly bothered so much by Henry’s distress or by Liza’s demands, as by her own reaction. Her Pavlovian response to smooth things over, to absolve herself and to make sure that she, Anna Wilson, was as genial and agreeable as possible. To everyone, it seemed, except herself.
‘Spoiled little sod,’ she said to Chewie as he gnawed on some boules of sheep shit he’d unearthed from somewhere. She looked down at her palms, red raw and spackled with dark gravel. But did he appreciate it, she wondered. Did anyone, who had life delivered on a silver platter, appreciate any of it?
‘Anna! Anna? I thought that must be you.’
She looked down across the water and saw Henry waving from a large wooden skiff, running several lines from the back and with a large bucket of iridescent, blue-grey mackerel already on board. Without the vast jumper of the night before, he cut a slight figure, yet his clinging, damp T-shirt revealed a certain wiry strength.
‘You must be doing something right, if you’ve worn out that bloody dog,’ he called, his words slightly snatched away by the breeze. ‘I’m so sorry about last night—’
Anna shook her head. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’m going to see your grandparents later to say thank you for the scones.’
He looked immediately chastened. ‘Yeah. They weren’t impressed with me last night either.’ The boat rocked, a sudden swell splashing over the bow, but Henry simply adjusted his weight, unfazed. ‘Can I make it up to you, maybe? Come to the pub with me one night and meet some locals? I’d hate to think of you leaving Ditsum thinking we were all oafs and idiots.’ The flush that spread up his neck was sweetly endearing; he really was terribly young.
‘Maybe,’ she hedged.
‘Come on – a night out will be fun. And you won’t have to even talk to me if you don’t want to – there’s live music…’ He looked up at her hopefully.
‘Well, you’d have to take me as I am,’ she said, hesitating when she saw the effect of her ill-chosen words on the steadily increasing flush of his neck. ‘I mean, I’ve brought jeans, jeans and jeans, so if your pub’s a little fancy—’
For a moment, she felt a disconcerting swell of longing for her beautiful, indispensable jersey dress abandoned at Gravesend Manor, before shrugging it off. ‘I’m not known for my grace or sartorial flair.’
He grinned, taking her caveats as a yes. ‘Molly said you were a good sort. But be warned, she’ll try and get you dancing.’
‘Ah, now, and you’d almost convinced me to come along,’ Anna laughed, teasing him.
He dithered for a second, and Anna almost took pity on him – she forgot sometimes that her own flippancy could unnerve other people quite so thoroughly.
‘Come out fishing with me now?’ he countered, surprising her with his resilience. ‘Chewie’ll be fine in a boat, won’t he? He glanced around the deck of the wooden skiff, holding up a red life jacket. ‘He can wear this—’
Anna laughed and shook her head. ‘You’re a little bit crazy, you know that?’ But she couldn’t deny a magnetic pull to the very idea of something carefree and careless. Just for once. For herself. Because being responsible all the time was beginning to feel more than a little exhausting.
‘There are worse things to be than crazy,’ Henry said seriously. He slowly pulled in the lines and rowed over towards a small jetty a little way along the promontory. ‘You can climb down here, it’s not steep.’
There was surely a kind of madness in taking a Great Dane out fishing?
She thought for a moment of all the risks she never took, the fun she shied away from, and looked out across the sea – small boats dotting the horizon and the gulls’ raucous cries still somehow carrying the promise of summer indulgence. What was the point of this nomadic life if she didn’t take pleasure in the unique experiences that crossed her path?
Tugging on Chewie’s lead, Anna slithered down the grass bank. Henry leapt out and scooped the enormous dog into his arms before Chewie could really appreciate what was happening. ‘Hold her steady,’ Henry said to Anna as he deftly hopped back on board. He clipped Chewie into the life jacket and laughed. ‘Now that’s a look!’ He held out his hand to Anna. ‘Climb in and then I’ll push us off – this rig weighs a tonne.’
Perpetually alert to any allusion to her own size or weakness, Anna dug in her heels. Flexing her arms and trying not to wince as she put pressure on her sore palms, she ignored his request and pushed them away from the jetty, hopping nimbly aboard just before it floated out of reach.
‘Cool,’ Henry said simply, shaking his head. ‘You’re feisty, aren’t you? I get that.’ He held up his arm, as though flexing his ‘guns’, yet showing only sinew and a quiet, subtle strength.
Rather than flaring up at his comment, Anna found herself softening towards him. ‘Small can be strong,’ Anna said. ‘I’m at least eighty per cent Jack Russell, I reckon.’
‘Little dog with big ideas?’
‘Something like that. Determined, anyway. And something Chewie has clearly never had to concern himself with.’ Anna ran a reassuring hand over the huge dog, sitting proudly in the stern, watching every flicker in the water with absolute concentration.
‘My gran calls it a runner’s build; the kids at school called me Steve Rogers.’
‘Didn’t he turn into Captain America and save the world?’ Anna queried, confused.
Henry laughed and held up his hands. ‘Hey, I never said they were bright!’
‘Have you noticed though,’ Anna said, nodding, ‘that tall girls are never feisty? They’re strapping or athletic.’
‘Yeah, but strapping kind of makes me think of a cart-horse, so’ – he grinned – ‘on balance I reckon you win.’
Anna sat back and tilted her face to the sun, running her fingers through the ice-clear water as they moved out into deeper channels. Whatever she’d expected when she’d pulled into the driveway at The Cove yesterday, it hadn’t been this.
‘Anna, look!’ Henry said, one hand holding tightly to Chewie’s collar just in case. ‘Quickly!’
He pointed up above them, at a small dark shape climbing up into the sky, flashes of yellow between each flap of its dark pointed wings. Henry glanced over at her briefly to check she had seen, his face alight. ‘It’s a peregrine falcon. And it’s hunting – look.’
Anna squinted against the sunlight, the reflections from the water making it hard to see, even as Henry gave an excitable running commentary. ‘See, see, how it’s
picking up speed,’ he said in awe, as the bird began to dive, beating its wings so quickly now that it seemed to drop like a pebble from the heavens. ‘Faster than a Ferrari,’ Henry murmured, just as the falcon pulled its wings back sharply, slowing with intent, just as Anna realised the focus of its efforts. She winced as those bright yellow talons flashed forth and literally plucked the small swift from the air.
‘Oh God,’ she gasped. ‘That’s just so – brutal,’ she breathed, just as Henry said, ‘Beautiful.’
They looked at each other in confusion, even as the falcon bore its prize away.
‘It’s just nature,’ Henry said apologetically. ‘It’s majestic though, right, seeing all that power, that grace – small but determined,’ he joked, uncertain how to garner the reaction he’d been expecting. ‘It’s incredibly rare to see that, you know. Special,’ he insisted.
Anna nodded. ‘I can imagine. It’s just a lot to take in – it all happened so fast.’ She looked around them, up into the sky. ‘Now I know what I’m looking for, I won’t spook so easily.’
Henry frowned at her, still clearly trying to get a read on this girl in his boat. ‘Ah well, the last I saw was six months ago, but you know – you’re welcome to stay…’
‘I think maybe I like nature more when it’s David Attenborough narrating the carnage,’ Anna said apologetically.
‘City girl, huh?’ Henry nodded as though that explained everything.
Anna shrugged. ‘Kind of an everywhere but nowhere girl, really.’
‘Cool,’ said Henry again. ‘That sounds exciting. I never really left South Hams until I finished school, what with Mum being so ill and my gran having her hands full.’ He looked awkward for a moment, that slight flush warming his neck again. ‘And now I’ve made my choices, built my life here so…’
‘And your mum?’ Anna asked.
‘Yeah, she died,’ Henry said, the bluntness still not disguising the obvious pain it caused him to say that. ‘So, you know, I’m lucky really – to grow up here, with my grandparents.’
Perhaps it was the word ‘lucky’ – that disingenuous praise that had been bandied about for Anna’s entire life – or perhaps it was the sudden set to his jaw that spoke of so many emotions unspoken, but Anna found herself leaning forward confidentially.
‘I grew up in foster care – some good times, some bad – but I understand, Henry, that sometimes “lucky” doesn’t really feel that way, does it?’
His eyes widened as he looked at her, suddenly so vulnerable, so very young, all the bravado stripped away. ‘But you’re – you’re so…’ He grinned awkwardly. ‘Well, maybe you’re feisty for a reason then, Anna. But to me, you seem lovely. Normal, you know?’
She smiled, knowing all too well what a compliment that was. She pointed to a family of mallards, bobbing along the edge of the coastline, dipping occasionally with their tail feathers in the air. ‘You see those ducks, swimming?’
‘Sure.’ He grinned again. ‘I get it – so you’re all paddly under the surface? Is that what you’re telling me?’
‘Something like that,’ Anna said. ‘And you know, Henry, seeing that peregrine falcon really was amazing. The kind of thing I feel truly lucky to have seen.’ A kind of borrowed magic, she thought, but didn’t say.
‘Even if you were secretly feeling sorry for the swift?’
‘Well, you were already rooting for the falcon – it’s nice to shout out for the underdog sometimes,’ Anna insisted.
‘Cool,’ said Henry again. ‘You won’t hear any complaints from me on that front.’
Chapter 16
Dittisham, 2019
Later that afternoon, Anna sank back into the sofa and closed her eyes, still feeling as though she were moving on the water. Chewie’s head was heavy on her lap as she took a moment to admire the view from the sitting room window at The Cove, attempting to chart her earlier route along the coastline and out to sea. Her skin tingled, having caught the sun on the skiff, and her limbs ached pleasantly from a little fresh air and exercise. Even Liza’s constant phone calls were barely a blip of annoyance.
Yet still, she startled, as her phone vibrated beside her.
Anna took a calming breath, prepared to be professional, before smiling when she saw Kate’s number on the screen; fleetingly relieved that Kate had chosen to call now – now that Anna was a little more herself than she had been a day or two earlier.
‘Aren’t you supposed to be having oodles of sex and staring into the sunset?’ she said, by way of greeting, tapping the screen until Kate’s laugh filled the room, even from the middle of the Indian Ocean.
‘Dear God, Anna. What were we thinking coming to a couples-only resort? It’s like they’re all in competition with each other to prove how in love they are! Quite frankly, it’s a bit of a mood killer. All the soul-gazing and hand-holding over supper alone is enough to put you off your octopus curry.’
‘Tell me you’re joking,’ Anna began.
‘About the snogging or the octopus?’ Kate cut in. ‘We could be having so much fun here, you and me. The people-watching potential is insane. There’s probably an anthropology dissertation in it somewhere. The posturing and naivety alone! Not that I would ever judge.’
‘Of course you wouldn’t,’ Anna agreed with a smile. ‘And much as I’m delighted that you wish I was on your honeymoon, I’m not sure Duncan would agree.’
The exhalation carried across the oceans between them. ‘Ah he wouldn’t mind. There’s feck all to do here once you’ve marvelled at the petals on your bed and the pretty little beach. We walked round the island six times yesterday just for a change of scene.’
Anna paused, this conversation jarring so comprehensively with everything she’d ever heard about honeymoons, or perhaps what people had chosen to share. ‘I’m sure he’ll think of a way to keep you entertained. He’s a resourceful chap, your husband.’
‘He is,’ Kate said drily. ‘He’s persuaded the houseboy to take him out bonefishing.’
‘No!’ Anna said, a little bit shocked despite herself. So much for romance eclipsing all the detritus in your mind. She hesitated. ‘And you – you didn’t want to go along?’
‘Hmm now let me see – up at dawn, two hours in a tiny boat to a different tiny island to stand in the shallows trying to catch something that looks a lot like Professor Welham, and will probably taste like mud – and presumably bones.’
‘That’ll be a no, then?’
‘Quite. But if you’ll believe me, I wasn’t actually phoning to moan – First World problems and all that – I wanted to see how you were faring? Was it just awful? Be honest.’
Anna stilled, her mind running circles and trying not to trip over itself. How on earth did Kate know? Kate, who Anna had wanted to call so very badly, who had been Anna’s obvious touchstone to reach for after that awful, hideous night in Oxford, but who had been strictly off limits on her romantic holiday of a lifetime.
‘Well,’ Anna began, and then stopped. What could she possibly say about how very close Kate’s wedding night had been to becoming a truly degrading experience? Rather than simply terrifying and humiliating.
‘I mean, I know he promised to be on his best behaviour and all that, but Max does have form being a twat with a drink in his hand, right?’ Kate continued, before Anna could formulate a sensible response. ‘Duncan suggested he apologise, but really, what could he possibly say to make amends? Other than admitting that he’s a deeply flawed, deeply insecure individual who never bothered to develop a personality and still relies on good looks and charm to excuse his lamentable lack of intellectual prowess.’
Anna was silenced, not only by the left turn she hadn’t seen coming, but also the vehemence of Kate’s disapproval of her new brother-in-law. In a funny way, the disloyalty to Max was just the reassurance that Anna needed that she herself was still a priority to Kate.
‘Say what you think, why don’t you,’ Anna laughed, relieved that she didn’t have to talk about Andrew
Fraser while the what-ifs and maybes were still so fresh in her mind and her brow-bone still throbbed painfully lest she forget for a moment.
‘Well!’ said Kate. ‘He may be easy on the eye but he makes my brain hurt with all that squandered privilege. What did you ever see in him, Pod?’
‘All that squandered privilege probably,’ said Anna honestly. ‘It was kind of intriguing, you know? Or maybe you don’t. But seeing someone who has literally everything handed to them on a plate, yet seemed to care so very little; it was kind of fascinating.’
‘You see – that’s why we study chimps, not date them,’ Kate snorted.
‘He wasn’t a chimp though, was he?’ Anna said, thinking back. ‘He was polished and confident and incredibly fortunate. And he noticed me.’
‘You say that as though nobody else ever did! All those nerdy hearts breaking all over Oxford, Anna. Did you seriously never see that?’
Anna shrugged, aware that Kate couldn’t see her, yet unable to formulate a sensible reply. It certainly didn’t tally with her own recollections. Recollections that still had the power to make her skin crawl with impotent fury.
The only thing that was crystal clear in Anna’s memory was that Max was a thief. Anna’s value to him had been in her work, her ideas. It was never about falling in love with her.
Adept at taking a hint even across the oceans, Kate yawned. ‘So come on then, what’s it like being back in Oxford anyway? Is it strange and nostalgic, or are you so taken with the place that you’re tempted to stay?’ She gave a half-laugh of awkwardness. ‘I can’t deny I’m hoping for the latter but presume you’re still a permanent flight risk?’
Easy ground. Anna relaxed a little. ‘Actually, I’ve already moved. I’m down by the sea, in a vast house full of pointy corners and no books. But there’s a sweet parakeet and a mental Great Dane so, you know, it all balances out.’
‘Jesus! I can’t keep up with you,’ Kate protested. ‘I honestly don’t know how you do it, Pod. Just the thought of always packing, always living out of a bag…’