‘He’ll be OK,’ I say. ‘He’s an incredible man, your dad. I’m sorry I didn’t say a proper goodbye.’
‘How was your boat trip?’ he asks, eyes still on the breaking waves in front of us.
‘I’m glad to have my feet back on solid ground.’
He looks across at me and smiles, reaching a hand up to my hair.
‘You look all wild and windswept.’
I let him smooth it down around my face, then find myself leaning my head into his hand.
‘You’re back sooner than I thought you would be,’ he says, in a tone I can’t decipher.
His eyes make contact with mine, and he drops his hand almost guiltily from my hair.
‘I got a phone call from my gran, it kind of ruined things,’ I say, my eyes darting to my toes in the sand.
He makes a low hum, an invitation to explain.
‘It turns out my parents’ love story wasn’t quite what I thought it was.’ I pick up a handful of sand, letting it drain through my fingers. ‘The way Mum told it, it was this grand romance, an epic proposal and the perfect relationship until she lost Dad in the accident. Turns out it was only ever just a fling. My dad didn’t even stick around when he found out I was on the way.’
‘I’m sorry, Laura – that must have been hard to hear,’ says Ted, leaning over, and nudging his shoulder against mine.
‘And, to make it worse, none of the objects I have from my dad were even his. His books, this watch – my mum bought them, so I’d have something to “remember” him by.’ I puff out an angry laugh, and take the watch off my wrist, examining it in my hands. ‘I’ve worn this watch every day of my adult life. Every time I look at it, I think of him. It’s been broken twice, and I paid a fortune to get it mended because it felt like’ – I pinch my lips together – ‘the ticking felt like his heartbeat carrying on somehow.’ My vision is swimming. It’s not even a particularly nice watch now I look at it objectively, the muddy brown colour and the hands too thick for the size of the face.
Ted puts an arm around my shoulders, and I want to sink into him. But instead, I fling the watch into the waves as hard as I can.
‘It’s all just meaningless junk.’
Seeing it go, disappearing beneath the waves, I unclip the pendant around my neck and pull my arm back to fling it into the sea too, but Ted stops me, grabbing my arm and gathering me into a tight hug against his warm chest.
‘Don’t, Laura,’ he says softly. Being folded in his arms feels so good, and I let myself go limp against his body. He talks gently into my hair, and the tone of his voice is like dark amber honey; I want it to ooze into every pore.
‘What, you’re allowed to throw things into the sea, but I’m not?’ I ask with a half-laugh, half-sob.
‘No, you need to think of your own symbolic gesture, you can’t have mine.’ His words make me laugh, pressing snotty tears into his shoulder. Then he says in a more serious voice, ‘These things might not have the meaning you thought, but it doesn’t mean they don’t have meaning. From what you’ve told me about your mother, she invested in objects. Perhaps it was hard for her that she had nothing of his to give you.’ Ted strokes my hair, ‘Maybe she was trying to give you the father she would have liked you to have.’
Ted’s arms feel so warm and safe. I feel so known by him; the words he says, the way he touches me like fingers on braille, reading who I am.
‘I just hate not being able to ask her about it,’ I say, my voice calmer now. ‘I’ll never be able to ask her.’
‘I think when you’re young, your parents feel infallible,’ says Ted, ‘people who have all the answers. Then gradually you notice a few chinks, it crosses your mind that occasionally they might be wrong. Then one day, you look at them, and you realise they’re just the same as you – cobbling it together, with no real clue.’
‘Gerry must have more of a clue than most, though.’
‘I don’t know.’ Ted releases me from his arms and weaves his hands together, looking at the place where his ring used to be. ‘I think he’s just trying to make sense of it all like the rest of us.’
Reaching forward beyond his feet, Ted picks something up from the sand, a blue tear-shaped piece of sea glass.
‘The blue pieces are rare,’ he says, examining it and then pressing it into my hand. ‘This is a good piece. Some people call them mermaid’s tears. Do you want to hear the story?’ I nod as I inspect the smooth glass in my palm – it looks like a gem, a tear of frosted sapphire. ‘The story goes that a mermaid watched as a storm threatened to wreck the ship of the man she loved,’ Ted says. His voice is hypnotic, I love listening to him. I sink my head back onto his shoulder as he speaks and he runs a hand across my hair, my whole body alert to his touch. ‘She was forbidden by Neptune from intervening in the weather, but she calmed the sea and tamed the waves, to save her love from certain death. For her disobedience, she was banished to the ocean floor, never to surface again. Her tears wash up on the shore as glass, a reminder of true love.’
I don’t know if it’s the hair stroking or his perfectly chosen words, but I pull away and look into Ted’s face, and then we are kissing. It feels out of my control, the force with which I want to kiss him; I give in to it entirely, planting my lips firmly against his. There’s a moment of surprise in his eyes, a flash of startled bemusement, but then it turns into the golden flicker of fire I saw last night on the beach, and in an instant he’s kissing me back. His kiss is so passionate, it feels as though the fire in Ted, the years of loss and sadness, have suddenly been given an outlet. The energy of it is electrifying.
I climb onto his lap – my thinking mind muted by an animal instinct. Clasping my hands around his face, his beautiful, clean-shaven skin, I run my hands up into his hair, pushing my mouth down onto his. His lips push back with equal force and his tongue delves to explore mine, unlocking some new urgency inside me. The kiss sends a wave of energy down between my legs, and I pull back, startled by the effect his lips are having on the rest of my body. When I pull away, his eyes lock onto mine and I know I should pause, let my thinking brain back in for a moment, but I can’t. Perhaps he sees the want in my eyes, because he holds my waist and rolls me over on the sand. Then, lying on top of me – his fingers entwine in mine above our heads. I push my hips up against his, and he lets out a low moan.
Some animal switch has been flicked inside me; I feel feral and wild and completely alive.
This – this is kablammo.
Then it ends as quickly as it began. Cold splashes over my feet, and Ted flinches, pulling away. We look down to see the tide has come in, the waves breaking over our legs – we laugh, untwine our limbs, and scramble further up the beach, away from the water.
We sit next to each other on the sand again, but now the moment has shifted. Where did that even come from?
‘I’m sorry,’ I say, realising it was me who initiated the kiss out of nowhere. My heart is pounding with exhilaration, mixed with embarrassment at the wildness that just came over me.
‘I’m sorry. You were upset,’ Ted says, rubbing his chin with a hand, his eyes closed. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’ His words sting – was it a sympathy kiss, then? He clasps a hand over mine, and I realise he’s holding my pendant in his palm. ‘Don’t throw your precious things in the sea, Laura. You might regret it.’
Immediately, I think of his wedding ring. Does he already regret throwing that away? What am I doing? Only an hour ago, I was kissing Jasper. I don’t think it’s very ladylike to kiss two different men on the same day. Ted is technically still married, looking for his wife, a wife I now know how to find. He lets go of my hand, and I feel goose bumps prickle up the length of my arm. I want to reach out for him again, but I don’t.
‘Do you want me to see if I can find your watch?’ he asks, standing up and making to take off his T-shirt.
‘No, Ted,’ I reach up my hand to stop him, ‘I have to tell you something.’ My voice sinks.
‘If it’
s that you’re seeing someone else at the moment, well, I kind of know that,’ he says with an uneven laugh that catches in his throat.
‘It’s not that, though – well, yes, there is that …’ I trail off, digging in my handbag for the page of Belinda’s letter, my hand shaking. ‘This was in amongst your dad’s letters, I found it last night. Gerry says he lost it, then forgot about it. He didn’t mean to keep it from you.’
I pass it to him quickly. He takes it from me, his brow furrowed with two deep lines. I look away as he reads, not wanting to see the look on his face as he processes what it is.
When I turn back, he is pacing in the sand.
‘Why didn’t you give this to me last night, when you found it?’ he asks, his voice hard.
‘I’m not sure,’ I say, closing my eyes, hearing the hurt in his voice. ‘You had so much else you were dealing with, I thought it might be better seen in the light of day …’ I trail off, hearing how pathetic my excuse sounds.
‘I have to go,’ Ted says gruffly, folding the letter into his pocket, ‘I’m sorry, Laura, none of this is a good idea. I can’t—’
He lays a hand gently on my shoulder. I raise my hand to touch his, giving him permission to go, and it feels what’s between us is over before it even began.
And then his hand is gone and so is he, and I’m left alone on the beach, perhaps more alone than I’ve ever been, my head and my heart full of more swirling confusion than they were before.
24 May 1992
Alex,
Laura May Le Quesne, born 22 May, 8.45 a.m.
Photo enclosed. I wanted her to have your name.
You can meet her whenever you want to, just let me know.
Annie
Chapter 23
With soaking wet capri pants, I walk up the track back to the cottage – the cut on my leg stings from the salt water. I waded into the waves to look for my watch, worried I had littered the sea, but, of course, I couldn’t find it. Ted’s cab is gone from the drive. I let myself into the cottage and strip off my wet clothes, lying down on the bed naked.
I turn on my phone and it lights up with messages. There are two photos from Jasper, one he took of us together on the boat and the other a large Victoria sponge covered in strawberries.
I’m sorry if I didn’t say the right thing earlier. Can I make it up to you with cake? Just let me know, I’ll come get you.
His message makes me smile, and then feel incredibly guilty. I told him I needed time alone, then used that time to kiss another man. Here is Jasper, perfect, gorgeous Jasper, no games, no ‘playing it cool’ before texting me. He is everything I said I wanted. But now I’ve gone and confused everything by jumping on Ted. What was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking.
My phone rings, Dee – she will be able to tell me if I’m a terrible person or not.
‘Hey,’ she says, ‘you OK? Your gran called me. She told me about your parents. So, your aunt was right? I’m so sorry, are you OK? Are you back tomorrow? Do you want to come straight to mine?’
Dee is one of the few people who knew my mum well, and she’s as surprised as I am by this revelation. As we talk about it, I find my anger at being lied to has already mellowed. Instead, I feel sad that Mum felt the need to hide the truth. She was a romantic, and I am sorry that she didn’t get the happily ever after she wanted.
Dee is worried about me being out here on my own. I reassure her I am not – that I’ve spent the morning with Jasper, and then Ted. Then I end up filling her in on everything that’s happened since we last spoke on the phone in Jasper’s bathroom.
‘Right,’ says Dee, sounding confused. ‘So Ted is the weirdy beardy old taxi driver, right?’
‘No, well, yes, but he’s shaved now and he’s not weird, or even that old. He’s pretty wonderful, in fact.’
‘Yesterday, you thought Jasper was your soulmate – the one the universe has been leading you to, the person you have everything in common with. And this morning he took you on an amazing day date and you had a lovely time? Am I getting this right?’
I let out a frustrated sigh.
‘I did have a lovely time with Jasper.’ I squeeze my eyes closed. ‘And Ted kind of ran away after kissing me, and it doesn’t even make sense that I like him in that way.’
‘So, to recap,’ says Dee, ‘it’s a choice between perfect, compatible, available Jasper who sounds fully into you and is everything you said you were looking for in a man, or hairy old beard guy who’s technically married and runs away after kissing you.’
‘Well, when you say it like that …’ I groan.
‘Hmmm, sounds like a tough decision,’ Dee says sarcastically.
‘But this kiss, Dee! This kiss!’
‘Unsuitable men always kiss better, everyone knows that. Laura, I’m sorry, but it sounds to me like you are looking for reasons to ruin things with Jasper. You were so sure he was the one yesterday. You were sure, even when you only had his luggage to go on, but now he’s gorgeous, interested, and single too!’
‘I know,’ I say with a sigh.
‘Do you remember Aaron Sargent? Who you dumped because he put the handbrake on at junctions, and Jamie Johnson, who got ditched for buying you a naff teddy bear with “I’m Yours” written on the front?’
‘Look, I don’t think this is a “Laura’s being too fussy” situation.’
‘What about that blind date guy?’ Dee goes on. ‘Vanya’s friend, who you discounted because he didn’t drink hot drinks?’
‘OK, that was bizarre, though. Who doesn’t drink hot drinks?’
Dee’s tone softens. ‘You know, sometimes, when people are sad, they don’t think they deserve happiness.’
‘I’m not sad, Dee,’ I say sharply. ‘Well, I might be sad about some stuff, but it doesn’t mean I’m intrinsically sad – I’m not broken.’
‘I’m not saying you’re broken, I just… This quest for the perfect guy, maybe it’s always been about the quest, never the destination. Maybe you don’t really want anyone to fill that space in your life,’ Dee pauses. ‘And that’s fine too, Laura. You are allowed to be enough for yourself. You can be on your own if that’s what you want. But at least consider that you kibosh guys before giving them a proper chance.’
Anger spikes in my chest. I’ve had this lecture from Dee before. She just wants everything to be simple, clear-cut, like life has been for her. She’s never been on a bad date, never felt lonely or left behind, because she’s marrying her first boyfriend. Just because I’ve been dating for years, waiting for the right person, it doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me, does it?
‘I don’t think that’s fair, Dee. Just because I didn’t settle for the first guy…’ I let the sentence trail, instantly regretting my choice of words. ‘Look, maybe you’re right. All the stuff with Mum has got me—’
‘You think I settled for Neil?’ Dee asks sharply.
‘No, I didn’t mean to say that.’
‘Because I didn’t. I love Neil, he’s amazing.’
‘I know, of course he is.’
‘Just because you’ve never had anything last more than six months—’
‘Well, that’s not true,’ I pause. ‘Aaron was seven.’
‘Look, I’m going to go before I say something I regret. Just, look after yourself, OK? We’ll talk tomorrow.’
I close my eyes as Dee hangs up on me.
Sitting at the little oak desk in the cottage, I try to focus my mind on work, replying to the backlog of emails and uploading all the photos I have taken so far. I post online the ‘Then and Now’ pictures of Mum and me at the Écréhous. Then I look at the photo of Jasper and me on the boat, his kind, uncomplicated face smiling back at me. Dee is right; I should steer myself back to Jasper – he is great, and I am acting illogically.
I send the photo of me and Jasper on the boat to Vanya, replying to her question about whether I’d found Hot Suitcase Man yet. Then I text Jasper, thanking him again for this morning, telling him I�
�d love to drop in on Maude’s party a bit later, but that I can make my own way there. He replies immediately with a big smiley face emoji and I get a GIF back from Vanya, of Bugs Bunny with hearts for eyes.
Kissing Ted on the beach was a moment of madness; I was caught up in a flurry of emotions. I need to focus on sensible things – like how I’m going to make this coin story work now. Even if I can flesh out my great-grandparents’ story, how can I frame my parents’ relationship as this perfect love story now? I need a new angle. If I just had a little more time, if I could only extend this trip for another few days …
Before I lose my nerve, I tap out a text to Suki.
Laura: Keen to stay in Jersey for a few more days – so much great content to collect! Is it OK if I work remotely, come back on Wednesday?
I’ve barely pressed send, when the screen lights up with her name. I close my eyes as I answer the call. Suki doesn’t like people working remotely. She feels they are more productive in a ‘competitive environment’.
‘What? Why? Why is it taking so long?’ she snaps. Zero preamble.
‘Well, no, it’s not, I just—’ I stutter, unprepared.
‘Because honestly, Laura, we can’t afford for you to spend four days of your time on one little article about your parents.’
‘Well, technically, it’s not four working days, since this is still the weekend, and I am working on other content while I’m—’
‘Send me what you have. I want to see a draft today.’
‘The thing is, Suki, um, I’m just trying to re-work the angle slightly. New information has come to light—’
‘What new information?’ she asks, her voice steely.
‘Um, well. It’s actually quite interesting, because it turns out my parents didn’t stay together that long. They never got married, in fact.’ Why am I telling her this? This is not going to help. ‘And I was thinking, maybe this is an article about love stories that get passed down to the next generation and how they get twisted and embellished into a kind of family mythology. All my romantic expectation may have been built on this story, it’s what sparked my interest in other people’s love stories—’
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