She doesn’t mention Lefty. If he comes with her, then Julia might never need to know about him.
Rachel has done her best, she has worked hard, and now it’s time to go.
Fraser
Lefty comes to him on the Thursday night, while Rachel is over at the bird observatory doing a final clean.
Fraser has been waiting for this conversation, and dreading it.
‘You’re going with her, then,’ he says to Lefty, pre-empting what he can see in the boy’s face.
He can’t even reply. Just nods.
‘Ach, you’ll be okay.’
‘You reckon?’
‘What are you going to do with yourself?’ Fraser is standing at the sink, side by side with Lefty, who begins to spread butter on a slice of bread.
Lefty shrugs. ‘Try an’ get a job.’
‘Maybe something in the outdoors,’ Fraser says. ‘That would be good for you. Like a park-keeper. If they have that sort of thing these days.’
‘Rachel says there are these big houses, you know, like, open to the public – they have volunteers helping in the gardens. Her mum works at one of them; she thinks maybe I could do that. Just to get a bit of work experience, you know.’
‘Sounds good.’
There is a pause. Through a mouthful of cheese sandwich, Lefty says, ‘Are you angry wi’ me?’
Fraser grimaces. ‘Why should I be angry?’
‘That I’m leaving.’
‘It was going to happen sooner or later.’
‘Look. I’m gonnae be good. I’m staying out of trouble. And I’m sorry.’
Fraser doesn’t hear the last three words; he never has. And the bit before – well, that’s up to Lefty, after all. He can’t help him when he’s away off the island. He’s just a big kid; sooner or later bravado or drugs or threats or something will cross his path, and who knows what will happen then?
‘Aye, whatever. Get away wi’ you, go on.’
Lefty takes the sandwich and hovers in the doorway. ‘I’ll be leaving the Xbox,’ he says.
Fraser roars, ‘Too fucking right you will!’
And the door slams.
Fraser has no desire to begin playing on an Xbox, whatever that involves. But perhaps, if it stays here, Lefty might feel able to come back, if he needs to.
Rachel
Rachel hears Fraser coming to bed. She reaches out a hand to illuminate her phone, which is charging on the bedside table – it’s nearly one. She thinks maybe he fell asleep downstairs for a while, or else maybe he’s deliberately left it late enough that she’ll be asleep.
She hasn’t slept, too wired to do anything but think over and over again about tomorrow.
His bedroom door is ajar, the light still on. She knocks and pushes the door so she can see him, sitting on the edge of his bed, T-shirt and boxers, head in his hands. He looks up. Pulls the duvet to one side, by way of invitation.
She crawls into the bed next to him, turns on her side to face him. ‘I had a reply from Marion,’ she says.
‘Oh, aye?’
‘Did you not get copied in?’
‘I haven’t looked.’
‘She’s doing the whole passive-aggressive thing about me leaving early, telling me they’re not going to pay me for the week in lieu of notice. But as there are no birders here, she’s not going to insist that I stay.’
‘Good of her. I reckon she will pay you, that’s just one of her threats. If she doesn’t, let me know and I’ll sort her out.’
There is a little pause.
‘Are we going to stay in touch, then?’
He gives her a long look, as if he’s giving it careful consideration. ‘If you like. I’m not much good at replying to stuff.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘Don’t take it personally.’
‘Heaven forbid. Anyway, if you’re going to try and sort her out, it might be worth knowing that Marion seems to think you’ve done something to piss me off.’
‘Well, she’s more perceptive than I’ve given her credit for.’
He leans across and turns out the light. She lies still, looking at his profile, the sweeping beam of the light above them creating patterns in the night sky outside the window.
‘Will you take care of him?’ he asks quietly.
‘Of course I will.’
‘And yourself?’
He turns to her, stroking a single finger down her cheek. She can’t see his face but she can hear his breathing, slow and heavy. She presses a hand to his chest, feels the warmth of it, the muscle, the beating of his heart beneath it. Then she traces her hand down the swell of his belly, over his hip, over his backside, and pulls herself closer to him.
He’s not going to say no. It’s the last time, after all.
Fraser
Dear God, this woman.
How is he going to survive?
Afterwards he watches her sleep as it begins to get light outside, her hair russet instead of copper in the silvery light, trying to memorise her face. Time is slipping past faster than he can stand.
He wonders if there’s anything he can do or say that might stop her from leaving. She can’t stay in her job, of course, because of fucking Julia. And who knows what Marion would say about her staying on the island, if he were to ask. But if he could just speak up, say the right words in the right order – what if he promised to change, promised to try? Might she say yes to staying anyway?
But he will not say anything. It’s too much of a risk, too much of a leap. He has nothing to offer her, and he has no right to even ask.
Rachel
Fraser brings her backpack down to the jetty in the quad. He’ll need it, because Robert is bringing the week’s shopping with him.
Rachel and Lefty are subdued. Lefty has an old sports bag that Fraser has given him, with all the clothes he has – which don’t amount to much. Rachel has emailed Lucy, and Mel, and both of them offered to put up Rachel and Lefty for a while; it’s Mel’s offer that Rachel has accepted. She has no idea what she’ll do beyond that. Lefty is going to have to sleep on Mel’s sofa. Apparently he’s fine with it.
Although he’s actually terrified, of course. She can tell by the way he’s staring at the boat as it comes in, and when she touches his arm it’s shaking.
‘Hey,’ she says. ‘It’ll be fine.’
Lefty glances round to look at Fraser, who’s managing to outdo himself in terms of strong, silent, quietly livid and really quite alarming.
Fraser helps Robert tie up the boat and the engine stills. Their luggage is handed over. There are some provisions, but only two crates – still some degree of chinking, she notes, so it’s not as though he’s decided to give up alcohol now she’s leaving. Not much of a legacy to leave him with, she thinks.
She looks at the crates and suddenly feels a wave of pain. What the fuck is she doing? Everything she wants now is right here on the island.
And she is leaving. This is, surely, the ultimate Rachel fuck-up. The worst ever.
Without warning the tears start falling and she can’t wipe them away fast enough. Lefty has apparently not noticed, or perhaps he has, for when Robert beckons him to get on board he suddenly starts forward as if he’s had an electric shock, stumbling over the gunwale and grasping at Robert’s hand.
A look passes between Robert and Fraser, who’s standing behind her. Robert has thus far not given Lefty so much as a glance.
‘You coming, hen?’ Robert calls.
She looks round at Fraser. One last look. Tears pouring.
He takes a step towards her and that’s all she needs: she throws herself at him, buries her face in his chest, arms crushing round his waist as best they can. At their feet Bess whines, pushes her nose against Rachel’s thigh.
‘Come on,’ he says, patting her shoulder. ‘There’s no need for that.’
She pulls herself away and drops to one knee to cuddle Bess. The dog licks her ear, her cheek, enthusiastically, and Rachel buries her face in t
he black fur.
Right, she thinks. Enough. Definitely enough.
Robert holds out his hand to her, and she takes it. Her foot leaves the concrete of the jetty and lands on the deck.
She is off the island.
She takes a seat at the side of the deck outside, where she can see Fraser as the boat pulls away. He’s alone, she thinks. Completely alone, as he hasn’t been for over a year. She has a sudden terror that he’s going to do something stupid, that he’s not going to be able to cope, and she lurches to her feet, hands against the gunwale. But what’s she going to do? She can’t stay.
He raises a hand to wave, and then, at last, she thinks maybe he will be all right. Because, in all the weeks on the island, all the boats that have come and gone, Fraser has never waved.
Not once.
13
And still
Date: Sunday 9 June
From: Julia Jones
To: Rachel Long
Subject: Colander??
Hey Rachel,
How are you doing? How’s life back on the mainland?
I’m sad I never got to meet you but you know I’m so grateful to you for doing that long email before you left – I can’t tell you how helpful it’s been. I can admit this to you (but nobody else) because you’ll understand, but there have been a few moments this weekend that I’ve wondered what the hell I think I’m doing here. I’ve been on field trips all over the world but this is permanent and I’m in charge and that makes it really different, and pressured. So having your email to refer to has been a real support.
The first lot of birders arrived yesterday and they seem okay but not exactly friendly! They just want to be left to get on with it. I think they think it’s really weird that I’m here, cooking for them – yesterday when I came in to do dinner they just stared at me as if they’d forgotten I was catering. Anyway, no complaints so far.
So I wanted to ask if there’s a colander – I couldn’t see one in the cupboard. Drained the pasta in the little sieve last night and it went everywhere. I asked Fraser but he just shrugged. Does he ever actually talk??
Anyway, if you get a chance to reply that’d be great. I do realise you’ve got your own life back and I promise I won’t be pestering you every five minutes. Actually I can’t promise that. Help!
Julia xx
Date: Sunday 9 June
From: Rachel Long
To: Julia Jones
Re: Colander??
Hi, Julia,
Glad you got there okay and that you’re settling in. I know it really is a bit full on at first but you’ll get used to it. I think the island itself helps. It’s a very special place.
Sadly there isn’t a colander – it’s on a list of things I asked Marion to get including wine glasses and other (matching would be nice) stuff but nothing yet. I just used to use the saucepan lids to drain things.
Don’t worry about firing questions at me – any time. It is a bit crazy-hectic here as I’m trying to find somewhere to live and a job etc but I can always do quick replies if you need anything. Although Fraser should be able to help with most things. I know he’s a grumpy bugger but honestly he’s not too bad when you get to know him.
Good luck with it!
Rachel x
Date: Friday 14 June
From: Rachel Long
To: Julia Jones
Subject: How are things?
Hi, Julia,
Just checking in to see how your first full week went. Did the birders cheer up in the end? Did you find everything you needed? Are you feeling a bit more settled? And how’s your mum doing?
I saw you did a blogpost – looks good! I’m sure you’ll rake in many more followers than I managed. I loved the pic of the bridled guillemot – I never managed to see one all the time I was there. Fraser kept promising they existed but I honestly was beginning to think he was just winding me up. Has he cheered up a bit?? Hope so.
Let me know if you need anything.
Rachel x
Date: Friday 14 June
From: Julia Jones
To: Rachel Long
Re: How are things?
Hey Rachel,
Thanks for your email, it’s great to hear from you – thanks for thinking of me when I know you must be so busy. How’re the job search and house-hunting going? The birders were okay in the end – kept to themselves and that was fine. I only went there to do the cooking but it meant I had a whole load of cleaning to do when they left this afternoon as well as all the laundry etc. It’s like I have very little to do for most of the week (aside from panicking lol) and then the weekend is manic trying to get everything ready for the next lot.
Sad to say Fraser has not cheered up. He barely says 2–3 words to me a day. When I get back from the bird observatory he’s usually in the lounge watching TV or upstairs, I say hello and get a grunt or something. Anyway, doesn’t bother me especially but honestly I quite like visiting the birders for a bit more conversation, even if their repertoire is limited!! How on earth did you cope? I’ve been phoning Mum every evening but it’s hard not to sound homesick. Thanks for asking after her. She seems to be having a whale of a time going out with her tennis club mates every day for afternoon teas etc. She had to be really careful about eating and drinking before the transplant, and now she can have everything and she’s v excited about that. Can’t blame her really.
Thanks again for the email. I do have friends I’m in touch with too, but it’s great to have someone who understands just how unique this place is, and what the challenges are. Please do keep in touch.
Love, Julia xx
Date: Friday 14 June
From: Rachel Long
To: Julia Jones
Re: Re: How are things?
Hi, Julia,
No worries – I know it’s easy to feel a bit isolated at first, especially if Fraser’s not talking! How about over dinner in the evenings? He was never especially chatty when I was there but I think I ended up just kind of forcing him to be sociable …
House-hunting is going okay, although I’ve taken the safe option and moved back into Mel’s spare room. She is so great. I don’t think I ever asked how you know her? She was a real lifesaver when she told me about the interim job, you know. It came at just the right time for me. I needed a few weeks to think about my life and my future, and, although some things are more complicated than they were, you get a real sense of what’s important in life when you’re on a little rock out there in the middle of the sea. I hope you get that feeling too. No sign of a new job for me yet, but I’m waiting to hear back from a few places.
Take care,
Rachel x
Date: Saturday 15 June
From: Julia Jones
To: Rachel Long
Re: Re: Re: How are things?
Hey Rachel,
Re Fraser – I don’t see him over dinner, usually. He’s either had it by the time I get back, or he’s having something after I go to bed, because I’ve not seen him eat anything! And I don’t know that he’s sleeping that well either – sometimes I come down in the mornings and it’s obvious he’s not been to bed; I think he falls asleep in the living room sometimes. Anyway – quite worried about him, but since he’s a bit peculiar anyway I’ve just been assuming this is normal behaviour for him! I guess it must do things to you, living on the island all on your own. Marion did warn me he’s a bit of an odd fish but I wasn’t really expecting this. How did you cope??
I was at uni with Mel years ago. We shared a house for a while too so yes, I know she’s a brilliant housemate as well as a good friend. We’re lucky to have her! And I’m so glad she introduced us. Sounds like it was a serendipitous thing for both of us.
Love,
Julia xx
PS Did you hear about Marion? Craig told me she’s been offered another job – apparently she’s pissed off about the cottages. Her planning adviser told her not to bother! And the building costs came back three times more than she thought. App
arently she had a stand-up row with them all at the Trustees’ meeting, and handed in her notice the next day. Craig seemed quite happy about it!
Date: Saturday 15 June
From: Rachel Long
To: Julia Jones
Re: Re: Re: Re: How are things?
Hiya,
Just a quick one – v weird to hear Fraser’s not eating. He’s a bit of a foodie. You mean he’s not cooking??
Also – good to hear about Marion. Hope she takes that job! She really is v difficult. And Fraser can’t stand her!
R x
Date: Saturday 15 June
From: Julia Jones
To: Rachel Long
Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: How are things?
No, we don’t have dinner together – most of the time I have beans on toast or I bring back a portion of the dinner I’ve served to the birders. Like I said, he’s usually somewhere else when I get back! Did you used to sit and have dinner with him, then?? Wonder what I’ve done to upset him!!
J xx
Date: Saturday 15 June
From: Rachel Long
To: Fraser Sutherland
Subject: Hey, how are you?
Hi, Fraser,
Thought I would check in and see how you are? How is Julia settling in? I hope she’s doing okay and that you are being super-kind to her. You know it’s not easy starting that job – I should know! I hope she’s getting on all right and not feeling too homesick.
We are doing okay here. The first few days were really manic. Lefty was in a bit of a state on the journey down, he was all white and shaky, I was worried he was going to do a runner! But when we got to Norwich I think he was just really tired. We were staying at Mel’s and we’ve been spending a lot of time at my parents’ house – as you can imagine, that was a bit entertaining. But the weird thing is after a day or so my mum and Lefty kind of bonded – they’re thick as thieves now. She has been taking him to Harleton Hall where she works – he’s been helping out in the gardens and they’re hoping to get him on the official list of volunteers, so he will get some work experience even if he hasn’t got an actual job. In any case there’s no rush for that as Mum has practically adopted him as her own. In fact she suggested Lefty can have their spare room so that he doesn’t have to sleep on Mel’s sofa! Anyway he seems okay for now, he’s not said anything about you or the island or what happened before, and nobody seems to be asking him probing questions – they’re all just cracking on. I’m checking up on him every day. How’s Bess doing? I think Lefty really misses her.
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