by Paige Toon
Kate put increasing pressure on Nicki not to return to Thailand, but she held fast, and went back for the Easter holidays. Part of her reason for wanting to go again so soon was Isak – despite her bitterness, her thoughts were still consumed by him. She didn’t know if he would be there so when, on her very first day, she spotted him up one of the limestone cliffs, tackling an overhang, her heart skipped a beat.
She sat on the beach and watched him for an hour. He clocked her as soon as his feet hit solid ground, his face falling right off the cliff he’d just been climbing.
At first she was cold and distant, and he seemed nervous around her, but she didn’t refuse when he asked her to go for a drink with him.
That night he confessed that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her and vowed he hadn’t been with anyone else since. Regardless of the hurt she’d felt when he hadn’t wanted to keep in touch, they pretty much picked up where they left off. But at the end of the holiday, the same thing happened, with Isak vehemently stating that long-distance relationships don’t work.
When Nicki returned to school in the UK, she was so incensed with Isak that she ended up snogging Charlie in retaliation. They were both drunk, so she was surprised and apprehensive when he called her the very next day and asked her to go to the movies with him that evening.
Isak had insisted they were not tied to each other, so she went, but, when Charlie kissed her again that night, she still felt as if she was cheating on Isak. The days turned into weeks and Nicki’s feelings for Charlie grew, as did her guilt over the two men. She felt as if she was deceiving them both.
The summer holidays and another trip to Thailand were fast approaching, and one night she wrote an emotional entry about having come clean to Charlie. He was very upset with her for not telling him about Isak and he wanted to know if she still had feelings for him. She was honest and confessed that she did. Charlie walked out on her and refused to speak to her – she didn’t know if they’d broken up or not.
They hadn’t – it later transpired that he was extremely hurt and understandably worried about Nicki going back to Thailand for the whole six weeks of the summer holidays. She promised she’d be faithful to him and they agreed to speak on the phone regularly.
Kate still had issues with Nicki wanting a relationship with their father, so Nicki was pleased to be escaping her older sister’s wrath that summer when she came home from university.
In Thailand, her Isak infatuation returned in force. Isak was crushed when she told him she had a boyfriend, but, even though she tried to avoid him, they kept bumping into each other. He was still running the rock-climbing course for the resort, so he’d be on site regularly, picking up his next group and dropping them back after their climbs. One night he caught her arm as she was passing and begged her to have dinner with him – as friends. Against her better judgement, she accepted.
I wanted to hurl the diary at the wall at this point.
Isak told her he loved her, that he was in agony seeing her every day and not being able to touch her. He sincerely regretted letting her go, and would do anything to be given another chance – he swore he would try to make a long-distance relationship work at the end of Nicki’s time in Thailand.
Nicki broke up with Charlie over the phone. Her tears smudged the ink on the pages of her diary as she wrote that entry.
Charlie wanted nothing to do with her when she returned to the UK. He soon got another girlfriend, but could barely bring himself to speak to Nicki for the rest of their time in sixth form. She was still pining the loss of their friendship when she set off to university in Coventry a year later.
Isak and Nicki went through plenty of ups and downs over the course of their time together. Eventually the long-distance strain got to them both and they broke up in Nicki’s second term of university.
April is wailing in her bedroom when I emerge from the office. I listen out, but can’t hear Pat, only the TV in the living room.
‘Pat?’ I call down the stairs. There’s no answer. I can see from here that the living room door is closed.
I walk over to April’s room and push open the door. She’s standing in her cot, tears streaming down her face. She calls out in a panic as soon as she sees me, stretching her arms up and begging to be lifted out. She looks like she’s been awake for a while – I had my music on, so it’s hard to tell how long.
I go and pick her up and her cries soften. She buries her face against my neck and hugs me tightly.
‘Aw,’ I say, patting her back as she snuffles wetly against me. ‘There there.’ Isn’t that what people say to babies? ‘Shall we go and find Grandma?’
Pat is sitting on the larger of the two sofas in the living room with her feet up on a pouffe, watching daytime TV.
‘Oh!’ She leaps up when she sees me. ‘She’s awake!’
‘I heard her in her cot,’ I reply, handing April over.
Pat looks stricken as her granddaughter begins to cry again. ‘I forgot to bring her blasted monitor downstairs with me!’ She clutches April and jigs her around a bit. ‘I’m sorry, darling,’ she murmurs. ‘Did Nanna not hear you?’
Nanna, not Grandma. I make a mental note.
Pat follows me out of the room to the kitchen, talking away to April as she fixes her some warm milk. As Pat is here, I reckon I’ll get out of the house today and wander into Padstow. It’s drizzling, but I could do with some fresh air.
‘Good morning?’ Pat asks, cuddling a now-quiet baby as the milk warms in the pan on the hob.
‘Yes, great.’
She nods at me expectantly and I find myself saying more.
‘I’m reading through Nicki’s diaries. Trying to get to know the person behind the characters,’ I explain, leaning against the kitchen worktop.
‘That sounds rather voyeuristic.’ She purses her lips.
Funnily enough, Sara said the same thing when she called to touch base with me yesterday. I wasn’t mad keen on that description then, either, so I make a noncommittal ‘mmm’ sound.
‘Could you just hold her a sec while I get her milk ready?’
I do as she asks. I’m starting to feel more comfortable with April now – or, at least, less scared. She hasn’t thrown a paddy on me so far.
There’s still time.
I sit on the sofa, placing her on my lap, facing me. I gently bounce her up and down on my knees and she looks so elated, I bounce her a little more vigorously. She cracks up laughing as if it’s the most hilarious thing that’s ever happened to her, and her reaction makes me laugh, too.
‘You’d better get the bouncing out of the way before she’s had her milk,’ Pat says shrewdly, ‘not after.’
She gives me a smile as she passes me a bottle.
Oh, am I doing this?
I take the bottle from her, slightly surprised to find that I am. April makes a sudden, eager grab for her milk, so I cradle her back in my arms and pop the teat in her mouth. She begins sucking in earnest as Pat pulls damp clothes out of the washing machine and places them in a basket.
I’m supposed to be going into Padstow. Should I not be a little put out? I search my inner feelings and discover that I’m not.
April is gazing up at me with her pretty blue eyes. I stare down at her, my chest expanding in an unfamiliar fashion. She clearly got her eyes from her mother.
And her chipmunk cheeks from her grandmother. . .
Yet, there’s something about her face that reminds me of Charlie.
‘I’m just going to hang up the washing,’ Pat says, walking out of the room with the washing basket.
Feelings check: still not annoyed.
Bizarre.
Charlie comes back at three o’clock and I turn off my music, interested to hear how he interacts with his mother.
‘The head came in and the caretaker was there, too.’ It sounds like he’s telling her about the job.
‘And were they happy with everything?’ she demands to know.
‘
I think so.’
‘Of course they were,’ she replies, haughtily. ‘How could they not be? Your work is stunning.’
‘Thanks, Mum,’ he says in a low, amused voice. ‘Is Bridget okay?’ His question carries right up the stairs.
‘Yes, she is. She seems nice.’
Her voice grows quieter as they head into the kitchen – I don’t hear Charlie’s reply.
About an hour later, there’s a knock on my door.
‘Hello,’ I call.
I’m not expecting Pat.
‘You might be gone by the time I get back,’ she says. ‘So I just wanted to give you this.’ She hands over a Post-it note with her phone number on it. ‘And to wish you a good weekend,’ she adds.
‘Thanks, you too.’
‘Any plans?’ she asks keenly, hovering by the door.
I shrug. ‘I might go and check out the Lost Gardens of Heligan, do some exploring.’
‘Oh, wonderful,’ she says.
‘How about you?’
‘My other son, Adam, is arriving back from India this evening, so I’m cooking the boys an early dinner. I’m just nipping off to the supermarket to do some shopping.’
‘How long has he been away?’
‘Four months. He’s been teaching English to local children. I can’t wait to see him!’
It wouldn’t surprise me if she started clapping and jumping up and down on the spot.
‘Aw, have a great time,’ I say. ‘I’m sure I’ll see you soon.’
‘Oh, you will,’ she agrees. ‘But, until then, you have my number.’
She nods at the Post-it note I’m holding.
‘Thank you,’ I reply. I still think I’m unlikely to ever use it.
When she’s gone, I go downstairs to get a drink.
‘Do you want a tent?’ Charlie asks as soon as he sees me. He’s lazing on the sofa with his arm around April, his ankle resting on his knee.
‘Sorry?’ We haven’t even exchanged hellos.
‘Do you want a tent to put your things in? I remembered where mine is,’ he explains as April shakes the colourful cloth book she’s holding. It makes a rattling noise.
‘Oh! Um, maybe, I don’t know.’ His question caught me off guard, but now that I think about it. . . ‘Actually, yes, that would be great. Really?’
‘Sure. I just need to get it back from my brother.’
‘Aah, you lent it to him to go to India, did you?’ I lean against the worktop and fold my arms, looking down at him.
‘No, he didn’t take it with him.’ He doesn’t seem surprised that I know about Adam. Guess he’s aware that his mother’s a chatbag. ‘He’s had it for ages,’ he tells me. ‘When I drop him home tomorrow, I’ll grab it and bring it over.’
‘Cool! I’ll actually have room to move. That’s a luxury. Is your brother older or younger than you?’ I ask.
I now know from Nicki’s diary that she and Charlie were in the same year at school, which also made him around the age of thirty-one when she died.
‘Younger by three years,’ he replies, taking the book from April and squeezing one of its cloth pages. It makes a squeaking sound that impresses her.
‘Is he your only sibling?’
‘Yeah.’ He smiles affectionately, then glances up at me. ‘Do you have any?’
‘No, I’m an only child.’
I can tell from his expression that he feels sorry for me, which also tells me that he loves his little brother a lot. I’d like to meet him.
Chapter 13
Unfortunately, I have to set off back to the campsite before Charlie returns from Bodmin station with his brother. Adam is coming in on a London train at five thirty that evening, but I’ve left at five pretty much every day since I got here and I don’t want to be hanging around like a bad smell.
After dinner, I climb the hill to catch up on my social media. There’s a group of friends camping in tents behind me, and I feel like a right Norman No Mates sitting there, working, while their barbecue smells waft down the slope towards me. Eventually, I return to Hermie and continue writing a blog I started earlier about Beau, the guy who stole the eleventh piece of my heart and who used to live right here in Cornwall, but I give up and call it a night early.
I have every intention of getting my arse into gear and heading to Heligan the next day, but when I wake up I feel a bit low.
I’m a sociable person. And I’ve been here for two weeks now without proper company. I really hope Marty is up for a visit soon. She gets back from Greece on Friday, so that rules out next weekend. I’ll try to persuade her to lock in the one after.
I traipse up the hill to call Elliot, but when he doesn’t answer, I make the decision to go into town for a pick-me-up breakfast. The gardens are only about an hour away, so I’ll still have most of the day to explore.
It’s a cool, partly cloudy morning as I walk along the Camel Trail into Padstow. The town is buzzing, but the streets are far from crowded, and I’m glad I don’t have to fight the tourists for footpath space as I wander past the small harbour. I make a beeline for the café on the other side – I’ve been there for lunch, but thought the breakfast menu looked good, too.
It’s a small, cosy venue with windows facing onto the water and a counter just inside the door crammed with cakes, pastries and ice creams. It’s only when a waitress is about to show me to a table that I see Charlie. He’s sitting right at the back with April – and Adam, at a guess – but, before I can walk out again, he clocks me and lifts his hand up in a wave.
‘This way, please,’ the waitress says, setting off with her single, sad little menu.
I can’t really do anything but follow her.
As Charlie beckons me over, Adam swivels in his seat to look at me. Despite his heavy stubble and bleached-blond hair, the family resemblance is striking.
‘Would you like to join us?’ Charlie asks politely, placing his hand on the chair belonging to the empty table beside him. Adam grins up at me in a cheeky fashion as the waitress waits for my response.
‘I don’t want to intrude,’ I say, awkwardly.
‘You’re not,’ Charlie replies, swinging the chair into place between him and his brother.
April is in a highchair opposite. She tries to communicate with me in baby talk as I sit down and smile at her, self-consciously.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ the waitress asks.
‘A latte, please.’ The coffees on the table are steaming. I don’t think they’ve been here long.
‘I’m Adam.’ He offers a big, rough hand to me and gives me a wide grin. His eyes are brown, not green, I notice, and he’s more tanned than Charlie, with freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks.
‘Bridget,’ I say in return. ‘It’s really good to meet you. Have you guys ordered?’
‘Only just,’ Charlie replies.
‘I’ll go for the pancakes,’ I say out loud, not bothering to look at the menu.
‘How do you like Cornwall?’ Adam asks me as Charlie flags down the waitress. I’m quite touched to hear him ordering on my behalf.
‘It’s great. But I haven’t seen much of it yet,’ I admit. ‘I had a flat tyre on my campervan last week.’
‘Oh, I heard all about your campervan,’ Adam replies knowingly.
‘What have you heard?’ I ask innocently.
‘About how you need my tent.’
‘It’s not your tent,’ Charlie interjects.
‘Whatever.’ Adam brushes him off. ‘It’s just as well you don’t have a boyfriend. Be a bit of a squeeze, from the sounds of it.’
My eyes widen.
‘I didn’t say she didn’t have a boyfriend,’ Charlie says. ‘He lives in Australia.’
‘How do you know that?’ I turn to him, taken aback.
He shrugs. ‘Your blog.’
That’s right. . . He told me he’d read a couple of entries when I first came here. But why were they talking about whether or not I have a boyfriend?
Char
lie must notice the unspoken question on my lips, because he explains.
‘Adam was giving me grief about making you come to Cornwall for the summer.’
‘I just wondered if there’s a bloke you had to leave behind,’ Adam clarifies.
‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘Three hundred miles don’t really make a difference when you’re already talking ten thousand.’
‘Still, you must have friends in London, right?’ Adam persists.
‘I should hope so,’ I reply indignantly.
‘Aren’t you lonely?’ he asks.
‘You’re a nosy little bugger, aren’t you?’ I tease.
Charlie laughs. ‘You tell him, Bridget.’
Adam grins, but pink spots form on his cheeks. I didn’t peg him as the type to embarrass easily.
‘I do miss my friends,’ I admit, trying to appease him. ‘Eight weeks is a long time to be away.’
Charlie picks up his teaspoon and stirs his coffee, staring down at the spinning liquid.
‘Told you,’ Adam goads his brother.
Charlie glances up at him and I’m surprised to see that his lips have formed a straight line.
‘I didn’t mean to make you feel bad!’ I exclaim at him. ‘I’m fine! It’s fun! Thank you!’ I gush at the waitress as she places my latte in front of me. ‘Christ, I’m just going to go and sit over there, all right?’
Charlie grins at me and the tension dissipates.
‘How are you today, April?’ I smile at her from across the table. Her brow knits together and she holds her arms out to me, making a sound of annoyance. Oops, what have I done?
‘No, you have to stay in your highchair,’ Charlie says to her. ‘Your pancakes will be here soon.’
‘Snap,’ I chirp. ‘Are you having pancakes too?’ I ask her cheerily.
‘Urrrn!’ She really wants to get out.
‘Here they come!’ Charlie says with relief as the waitress appears, laden down with plates. ‘Just wait a minute while I cut them up,’ he chides his daughter.
As Charlie attends to April, Adam chats to me.