I steal downstairs again and find him waiting for me in the kitchen.
Ella’s there too. She’s swaddled in her dressing gown on the sofa, knees tucked up and holding a steaming cup of tea. She certainly looks a lot brighter this morning.
‘Hey,’ I say. ‘How are you feeling today?’
‘Much better, thanks.’
I wonder if it’s as much to do with the return of the errant Art as anything.
‘Have a nice day at Skomer,’ she says. ‘Noah’s just told me your plans. It sounds lovely. I haven’t been there in years. I remember it being fabulous, though. I’m sure it hasn’t changed at all. It’s a timeless place.’
‘Are you sure you won’t come with us? I’d love you to.’
Ella shakes her head. ‘Art and I have a lot to sort out. We’re not out of the woods yet. Not by a long way.’ She gives me a rueful smile.
‘You’ll be fine,’ I assure her. ‘He came back.’
‘I don’t want him unconditionally, Grace. That belongs in self-help books, not real life. I have to think what’s best for the baby.’
The unspoken words are that someone who still craves a rock’n’roll lifestyle might not fit the bill.
‘Want me to stay here with you?’
‘No, no. You go off and have fun. We can always do something with Harry and Flick later, if Art and I are still talking. They probably won’t want to do anything that requires too much movement. From what Art said, it was a pretty heavy session.’
‘There was a lot to celebrate,’ I offer. Which makes me wonder why Noah, Ella and I were all missing from the party.
Noah looks sheepish. ‘I guess we should be making a move, Grace.’
‘Of course.’ I bend down and kiss Ella. ‘Look after yourself today. Relax. Let Art run around after you and spoil you.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘I know that you’re ever the optimist, but I think that might be expecting too much.’
‘Take care, though. Have an afternoon nap at the very least.’
‘I will.’
So I shrug on my fleece and pick up my rucksack. Noah puts the sandwiches in his and slips on his boots.
‘Right,’ he says. ‘Let’s see what Skomer has to offer.’
‘See you later,’ I tell Ella.
‘Love you,’ she says. ‘Have fun.’
So I fall in behind Noah and together we troop out to his Range Rover. I look across at him as he opens the car door and he grins at me. And I, for one, have a racing in my heart and a spring in my step that I can’t deny.
Chapter Seventy-One
A bright-blue fishing boat bobs into the natural harbour of Martin’s Haven, nestled between the cliffs. The long queue on the steps down to the jetty jostles excitedly. We’ve had a lengthy wait since we bought our tickets from the little stone lodge and most people are getting restless. Me, I’m just happy to be outdoors, alive and with Noah.
As soon as the boat ties up, we file down the stone steps and climb aboard, packed in like sardines for the short journey across to the island. Minutes later, we’re cast off again and bouncing about on the waves, the boat riding them with a rhythm that threatens to rock me back to sleep. Only the wind whipping my hair keeps me awake. The waters of the Jack Sound are notoriously turbulent and the little boat throws us high in the air, lifting us from our seats.
Seagulls catch a ride in the slipstream, hanging in the air by the boat’s wheelhouse, just above our heads. As we get out into the open sea, elegant black and white guillemots fly alongside the boat, skimming the waves. Noah pulls out his binoculars and scans the horizon.
‘Here,’ he says and his arms go round me as he holds up the binoculars for me to see them closer. I lean into the solid presence of him and relax for the first time in days.
As we get closer to Skomer, Atlantic grey seals come close to the boat and poke their noses out of the swell. They meander along with us, their big, sad eyes looking quizzically at the strange occupants, before they turn tail and disappear once more.
Puffins are the next to join us, more and more as the landing jetty comes into sight. The cute, barrel-shaped birds look like they shouldn’t be able to fly at all. They flap their wings furiously against the air currents.
‘This is fantastic,’ I say.
‘We’re not even at the island yet.’ Excitement shines in Noah’s eyes. ‘Just you wait. You’re in for a real treat.’
Minutes later, the engines are cut and the boat is roped up at a minute jetty. We wait our turn to disembark, then Noah offers me his hand and helps me out of the boat.
‘Back at three!’ the skipper says, ‘Or you’re here for the night.’
So we climb up the steps to the grassy knoll of the island for our first glimpse of the untouched wilderness of the place.
‘Wow!’ The view is stunning. The sea is a glistening turquoise in the sun, its rays making the waves shine like crystal.
‘It’s a tiny place,’ Noah says, ‘just a couple of miles long and even less wide. It’ll take us a few hours to walk round.’
As Noah has done all the research and I have done none, it only seems sensible to say, ‘Lead the way.’
We fall into step together and he sets off at a slower pace than usual. ‘We need to take our time, stop and admire the birds.’
They’re wheeling overhead continuously. The lush grass is dotted with the rabbits that flourish here as there are no natural predators for them in this isolated spot.
It’s not long before we come to a puffin colony. The comical little birds are rushing in and out of their burrows that honeycomb the ground, their mouths stuffed full of glinting metallic sand eels to feed their hatching young. We’re so close that we could touch them, yet they’re completely and wonderfully unaware that we’re there as they go about their business.
I didn’t know that there was a place like this where humans and birds could be in such close contact without conflict. If only humans on holiday could say the same!
I look over at Noah, busy taking photographs of the puffins with their clown make-up and their sad eyes. It’s not been much of a holiday for him. Or for any of us. All I wanted was some quality time with my friends and with Harry, yet it seems to have been one drama after another. Don’t they say that people row most either at Christmas or when they’re on holiday?
Noah finishes taking his photographs and we press on, enjoying each other’s company and the wildlife. I’m acting like someone without a care in the world and, for this time at least, my troubles do seem far behind me.
Noah and I share the binoculars to look out to sea, watching the swarms of birds constantly moving to and from the island in search of food. The gulls and razorbills soar majestically up the cliff faces. It makes me yearn to be as free.
We take our time to explore sheltered bays, exposed headlands and rocks that tower out of the sea, a playground for seals. Eventually we come to the Wick, a sheer cliff that drops straight into the waves. The elements have carved intricate ledges into it, making it the perfect nesting place for vast colonies of seabirds, like a block of high-rise apartments. The birds are crammed in so tight that you couldn’t put a feather between them. Noah and I sit side by side on the sloping stone to watch and it’s as if our arrival coincides with the matinée performance. Below us the sea is as smooth as polished jade, while above it the birds wheel and dive or glide serenely on unseen thermal currents.
Kittiwakes fill the air like flurries of snow, their distinctive call echoing off the rocks.
‘Black-backed gulls are the villains of the piece,’ Noah explains. ‘They eat baby puffins for breakfast and will take a rabbit too if they’re given half a chance.’
‘Boo to them.’
‘Harsh reality of nature,’ he says with a shrug.
I feel that I know all about that from this week’s events.
‘This is a magical place,’ I say into the stillness, a wistful sigh on my breath.
We have walked for hours, talki
ng about the birds, the landscape: nothing of great consequence.
‘I’m glad we came,’ Noah agrees.
He lifts the sandwiches from his rucksack and hands me a tinfoil-wrapped package.
‘Cheese,’ he says.
‘Perfect.’
We eat in companionable silence. He’s brought two bottles of Coke from the fridge and we have those too.
Then, as we bask in the sun like the seals below us, I say, ‘When do you think that you and Flick will get married?’ I try to keep the tone light, but it comes out all wrong.
Noah hangs his head and says nothing. For a while, I don’t think he’s going to answer me and the silence stretches between us.
Eventually, in a quiet voice, he says, ‘There won’t be a wedding.’ He looks at me bleakly. ‘What could I do, Grace?’ He runs his hand through his hair. ‘I didn’t see that coming at all. What would give her any impression that she and I were in this for the long haul? I’ve never led her to think that. Believe me.’
I do.
‘She asked me in front of everyone, all her friends. How could I possibly have turned her down? She would have been so humiliated. But this marriage can never happen.’
‘Have you told her how you feel?’
‘Not yet. Flick was in no fit state when she finally got into bed.’ He shakes his head as if he’s trying to clear a troubling picture from his mind. ‘What an awful mess.’
‘She loves you,’ is all I can offer.
‘And I don’t love her.’ He gazes directly at me. ‘You know that.’
I twist my hands together, unsure whether I’m elated or distraught. A maelstrom of emotions swirl together and crash in my heart, like the waves against the rocks.
‘She’s a great girl,’ he continues. ‘For someone. Just not for me.’
We don’t say any more, but I feel certain of what’s in his heart. I can hear it in my veins, in my blood. My soul is answering. And we both know it.
‘I can’t leave Harry.’
‘I would never ask you to,’ Noah says.
‘I’m not that sort of person. I just couldn’t hurt him like that.’
‘So you’d rather be unhappy yourself?’
‘Lots of people go through their lives just getting by. Not everyone lives on a cloud of happiness.’
‘Shouldn’t they seize it if they have the chance, though?’
‘I don’t know you, Noah. Flick is the sort of person who runs away to get married, who proposes to someone she’s known for only a few weeks. I’m the steady one. The reliable one. I don’t have flights of fancy.’
‘So you’ll go back to London, leave all this behind? Carry on with your work as an accountant? Stay married to someone who’s a drunk and treats you with disdain?’
The words sting. ‘You make it sound so terrible.’
‘Isn’t it?’
Yes.
‘When we get back to the cottage, I’m going to tell Flick that there won’t be a wedding. I’ll let her down as gently as I can and then I’ll leave.’
My heart wants to tell him not to go, but my mouth won’t speak.
‘I won’t see you again after today, Grace.’
‘We could meet up in London,’ I say in a rush. ‘Be friends. We enjoy each other’s company.’
I could get on Twitter and Facebook or whatever, just like Harry. Noah and I can exchange jovial banter about nothing in particular.
Noah laughs. ‘I might be strong-willed, but I couldn’t do that. I don’t want you as a friend.’
‘I can’t hurt Flick.’
I can’t bear the thought of never seeing Noah again either, but I’ll get over it. In time. I have to. Flick is my friend and that should count for so much more. And I can’t have both. Hot tears squeeze from my eyes and the plaintive cry from the gulls above me is almost painful.
‘Don’t be sad.’ Noah pulls me to him and I lean my head on his shoulder. Clouds cover the sun and I shiver at the sudden absence of warmth. We sit like that, unmoving. ‘We’ll enjoy the rest of the day together and part as friends.’
I nod as my throat is closed.
Then Noah says, ‘Look!’ and he points out to sea.
‘Where?’
He directs my gaze. I wipe the tears away with the sleeve of my fleece and then see what he’s showing me. A pod of porpoise is ploughing gracefully in and out of the waves. Their strong, grey bodies gleam in the sun as they pass the island, purposefully, intent on their destination. The beauty of it takes my breath away.
‘That’s amazing.’ Noah too is almost breathless with joy. ‘Where do you think they’re headed?’
I don’t know. But wherever it is, I wish that Noah and I could throw off our clothes, dive into the waves, leave everything behind and, together, just the two of us, go with them.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Too soon it’s time to catch the boat back to the mainland. As we wait in the queue with all the other daytrippers, it seems as if we’ve already left the magic bubble of this special island and must return to the mundane reality of life.
We sit packed tightly in the boat and bob our way back to the harbour of Martin’s Haven. I lean against Noah and he has his arm around my shoulders. I could pretend that he’s steadying me against the tossing of the waves, but we both know different.
‘I feel as if we’re saying goodbye for ever,’ I say to Noah.
‘It’s probably for the best, Grace.’
I think I’m going to be sick and it’s nothing to do with the rocking of the waves. ‘What will you do?’
‘I’ll make a new life for myself and you’ll go back to yours. I’d like to come back down here, maybe permanently. It’s a place that’s filled with good memories for me.’
I can say nothing to that. In my heart I wish I was more like Flick. If I was, I’d go back, pack a bag and leave with Noah. I wouldn’t look back. I wouldn’t give a fig about my job. I wouldn’t mind whose heart I trampled on. I would turn my back on my friends. That would be the easy thing to do. So easy.
The harder thing to do is say goodbye to your chance of a dream, to stick to your promises, to honour your commitments. To do the right thing.
But why does doing the right thing sometimes feel so wrong?
We’re quiet in the car as we drive back to Cwtch Cottage. For once the thought of arriving there doesn’t gladden my heart. I know this will be the end of my time with Noah and he’s right, I might never see him again. The thought tears pieces from my heart.
The flowers brush the car as we drive slowly down the lane together for the last time. When we pull up outside the cottage, Noah cuts the engine. We sit and stare at each other in silence.
‘We should say goodbye here,’ he says. ‘It will be more difficult when the others are around. And I’m not sure how Flick will react to being jilted.’ He manages a smile. ‘I might not get out alive.’
‘She’ll call you all the names under the sun for a few weeks,’ I assure him, ‘but she’ll move on. Flick always does.’
‘And we will too,’ he says, ‘in time. It’s been a pleasure, a joy, to meet you, Grace. You’re a kind, warm-hearted and beautiful woman. Harry is very lucky to have won your heart. It’s not quite the holiday that I expected, but I feel better for knowing you, for sharing this short time together. In another place and time, I think we could have been very good for each other.’
My eyes have filled with tears, which now splash over my lashes and on to my cheeks. Noah gently traces a finger down them. ‘Don’t cry for me. Be happy. Enjoy your life. And if you ever find yourself free…’ The sentence tails away and he laughs softly. ‘I should tell you one time, at least. I do love you, Grace. I loved you the moment I saw you.’
I can’t speak. I can’t answer. I’m frightened that if I open my mouth, I’ll agree to go with him. Anywhere. I want to tell him what he means to me, but I can’t. I can’t even put my feelings into words, so they will have to remain silent in my heart.
&
nbsp; ‘Dry your tears,’ he says. ‘We have to go inside. Be brave.’
I gulp back my sobbing and button it down. I am a wife. A friend. These are my roles.
‘Ready?’
I nod and Noah opens the car door. With a shuddering sigh, he gets out.
Before he walks to the cottage, before he walks out of my life, I take my courage in my hands and throw caution to the wind. ‘Noah,’ I whisper to him. ‘I love you.’
A Cottage by the Sea Page 32