by G J Morgan
“Sorry, I didn’t sleep well. I didn’t mean to bite.”
“Don’t worry. You’ve a good nine hours to catch up on sleep when we get on that plane.”
“I hope me leaving early last night didn’t upset anyone?”
“No, all your media duties had been done, all that you missed was idiots getting drunk and deluded. Was Rogan still mad with you?”
“We made up, actually.”
“Good. Glad you got all that shit resolved before we cross the pond. I can’t have you two terrorizing every capital we visit. You all packed?” she said, checking her cell.
“Nearly.”
“You need a hand. I haven’t got much on this morning and you know I’m never happier than when organizing luggage, be it mine or someone else’s.”
“I’m pretty much done. Anyway, I may have to pop out.”
“Where?”
“Just out. I won’t be long.”
“I might come too. Get a bit fresh air before we get cabin fever later.”
“No, it’s OK.”
“You sure you don’t want my company? We could do a little retail therapy.”
“No honestly, I’m good.”
Sally looked curious. “Where you off to, Miss Goodridge? Why all this secrecy?”
“I am allowed time off, you know. Not everyone needs to know my whereabouts every single minute.”
“Sorry I asked. I thought it would be nice to spend some time together. It’s not because I have to be with you, it’s because I want to.”
I nodded and smiled. “Ignore me. I’m in a bad mood.”
“Well I’ve got something that might cheer you up. Fuck, I shouldn’t really be telling you.”
“Well, you have to tell me now.”
“I suppose I do. Well, try to act surprised when he tells you.”
“Who tells me what?”
Sally leant forward. “Max let slip that he has booked a surprise trip for you both.”
“Where? When?”
“I don’t know for sure, next month.”
“When did he tell you this?”
“This morning. He was down here as early as me. Looked damn pleased with himself too.”
“He’s staying here?”
“I assumed he spent the night with you, hence his big grin?”
“Did he say anything else? About me or last night?”
“He didn’t stay long, said he had a meeting with a treadmill. Hey, I bet he’s taking you somewhere exotic and I bet you will need a passport. I’m a little jealous to be honest.” She leaned over to steal some croissant. “I’m going to head back upstairs to get my hand luggage ready. Make sure I’ve enough to keep me medicated and entertained. Enjoy wherever you’re off to. Just make sure you are back here for twelve as our cars will be out front.” Sally stood up, picked up her bag and cell. “Oh, and if Max decides today is the day for his big reveal, make sure you act surprised.”
She left me to eat my grapefruit alone, so sharp and sour my eyes threatened to water.
* * *
About an hour later I sent Max a message saying Tom wasn’t coming. Told him I’d heard nothing all morning, sat watching my cell, watching the clock, pretending to pack. Whatever Max predicted wasn’t going to happen how he’d planned.
I sent Max a second message, just after eleven, told him I was going back to my hotel. That it was stupid, stood in the middle of a park, same corner, same cold. Told him it was pointless and that he should have listened when I said I didn’t want to take part in this, that I wasn’t his bait. Tom was never coming and being here only made it ten times worse. Told Max to tell whoever was watching or hiding away behind a tree somewhere to stand down.
Third message I told him I was definitely leaving, that I would miss my flight if I waited any longer. That Sally was leaving me angry voicemails, if he was going to meet me here, he would have done it by now, he wouldn’t leave it so late. And each time Max gave the same short reply, each time more assured and arrogant that he would show, as I battled with either outcome, knowing either would elate him and destroy me regardless. Still didn’t mean I wanted Tom not to show, just to see him, to know he picked me, even if our triumph would be short-lived, at least it meant we had each other, which was something we’d never been allowed to have before. I just wanted Tom to save me, I could deal with what would come after, I couldn’t deal with doing this on my own, even if we were then sacrificed and Max got his way.
I looked over at the gate, then at the time; seconds felt too quick, minutes not long enough.
Please, Tom. Don’t leave me, Tom.
Please.
71
“You’ve barely touched breakfast. Something the matter?” Emma put her hand on my leg.
“Just not hungry,” I said, putting on a smile that wasn’t mine. “What do you fancy doing on our last day?”
“I’m easy. I wouldn’t mind seeing Portobello Market, having a little browse. I’d like to be able to give my mother a little something. She likes her little knick-knacks, things to put on shelves and cabinets.” She took a sip of coffee. “She is dying to meet you. She is counting the days till next week.” Another sip. “Are you sure you are OK?”
“Sorry, still got a headache.”
“Well banging your head on a door will do that, silly. I told Molly to tidy away her shoes, I knew they’d be a death trap. Shall we wake them up? It’s such a lovely day.”
“No, leave them. I’m sure they’ll be up soon.” I looked at the clock, the same clock I’d looked at since I got up. “I might go for a little walk, actually.”
“I could come with. I feel like I still haven’t seen enough of London.”
“I need to pop into the bank, actually,” I said, scrambling for a legitimate excuse. “Boring stuff really. You stay.”
“I’d rather come with you. Feels a waste of a sunshine being cooped up in here.”
“Honestly, I won’t be long. You stay.”
“Oh well, I’ll start having a bit of a tidy, start packing our things away, save us a job for tonight. After, we could find somewhere nice for lunch. I also need to buy myself something warm and knitted. I doubt Florida is hot all year round. How long will you be?”
“Not sure,” I said heading towards the door. “Half an hour, an hour.”
“OK, darling. See you soon. Let’s hope this walk gets rid of that horrid migraine, hey,” she said, kissing my head like she was trying to cure it herself.
72
“Dad, is this a gem stone?” showing me her cupped hand, a green pebble.
“No, darling. It’s most likely glass. Probably a broken bottle.”
“But it’s not sharp like glass.”
“No, because it’s probably been in the ocean for the last thirty years, you know how sandpaper works? Well, it’s a bit like that. All that time tumbling around in the sea and sand has turned it from sharp to smooth.”
“Could have been a message in a bottle, Dad?”
“It could have been. How comes you keep calling me ‘Dad’? I thought I was ‘Daddy’?”
“I’m grown up now,” she said, more concerned by the contents in her hand. “Can I keep this glass?”
“Yes. See if you can find some more.” She ran off with her bucket in one hand.
Even though it had only been a few weeks since we got back from London, as a little surprise I drove us all down to Devon. To be fair, I did promise Mum, told her I’d take her as soon as the weather brightened, before Florida, before we never got the chance again. I’d have been lying if I said I was a little apprehensive about my return, there was part of me that liked having the memory for myself. Mum was genuinely surprised, she never thought I’d bring her, always said I’d keep Devon just for me, but there you go, sometimes I even surprised myself. It had turned ou
t to be a weekend of firsts all round. First sunny weekend in months, Molly’s first time in a wetsuit, first time on a surfboard, first time trying to get out of a wetsuit, that was interesting, caught her first crab, ate her first crab, disliked the taste of her first crab.
The place hadn’t lost any of its charm and I fell in love with it all over again, we all did. Introduced everyone to Dot, she and Mum talked all things butter and baking, became instant partners in crime. Tripod even looked pleased to see me, not that it showed, I’m sure most dogs wagged their tails, though Tripod wasn’t one of those dogs.
Took everyone to the Oyster Shack as well, Molly liked the shack, but not the oysters, at least she tried them both. Dot and Alfred had a good time, a little too good, I blamed Mum for how tipsy they both got and how much lobster we over-ordered. Drove out to the farmhouse too, didn’t go inside, it looked busy, whoever owned it was doing renovations, scaffolding, walls being made higher. Mum and Molly insisted I still gave them the grand tour, so I took them for a quick look at where I used to work, my office under the tree. I was more embarrassed than proud, being paparazzi was hardly a profession to be proud of, not something to show off and parade. Strange seeing the house again, so much had gone on, sometimes I forgot how much.
The only place left was Burgh Island, so on the last day I made sure we’d see it before we went home, shame the weather wasn’t great. Built sandcastles in the rain, ate scones in the car, drank flasks of coffee under umbrellas. Luckily the clouds cleared and we finally got to feel sand, say our goodbyes to one tide before we welcomed another.
“I miss your father today.”
“Funny. You never normally mention Dad.”
“I never normally think of him. Does that sound awful? Just every now and again. Things I know he’d have hated to miss. Molly learning to draw, horizons like these, just begging to be painted.”
“How many times did I make him read that old Jacque Cousteau book?”
“The one in Italian?” she laughed. “Wasn’t much reading as far as I recall.”
“Don’t remember him ever drawing or painting the sea, actually.”
“No, your father never did. He tried a few times but always said he couldn’t do it justice, never liked his end product. Might be why he loved the sea so much. The one thing he couldn’t put down on canvas, a sort of stalemate.”
We both looked in the distance towards it, lit up, a pathway of dunes and puddles, as the two tides, left and right, did their best to meet in the middle, cover a million footprints with sea again.
“Should we all be more nervous?”
“You can’t purposely feel nervous.”
“What about you-know-what?”
“It is what it is. It’s out there. What can we do about it now?”
Mum took a big breath through her nose. “I will miss England. I will miss the seasons. I will miss my garden and my birds. Everything else I could quite easily leave behind. Can you promise me something when we get to Florida?”
“What?”
“Would you let me live on my own?”
“On your own?”
“Not straight away of course. But once I’ve found my bearings, I want to find somewhere just for me.”
“Why?”
“Because you need your own space. I need my own space.”
“Molly would be devastated.”
“I wouldn’t move miles away. But I think it’s for the best. A son shouldn’t live with his mother for as long as you have. You need to fend for yourself now. The three of you need time to grow as a family.”
“And Lou and Rose, of course.”
“Well, five then. Don’t take it personally, Tom, me wanting to move out. It’s with the best intentions.”
“It seems drastic, but if that’s what you want to do, I can’t stop you.”
“Not drastic, Tom. I think we would start driving each other up the wall. We both need our own lives. And can you promise me something else, Tom?”
“Jesus. What now?”
“I’d like another grandchild soon, if that’s OK. Whilst I’ve still got upstairs and downstairs working. Before I lose my marbles.” She pointed to her feet and then her head. “I’m getting on now. I want to be a grandmother whilst I’ve still got all of my faculties.” I didn’t answer. I didn’t think I needed to. “Shall we head back?” Mum asked. “My bones are cold.”
“Probably best, get us all an early night before we head home.”
“Can you believe it’s all come around? In a few days, the house will be someone else’s, no more village, no more pond, no more rainy afternoons. Dot said she’d let us raid Alfred’s drink cabinet. Few ports before bed, hey, means I can sleep in the car on the way back.” She started to collect Molly’s things, put bucket and spades back in bags.
“I might take a quick walk to the island if that’s OK, whilst the tide is out, take a few more photos up close.”
“I’ll keep an eye on Molly. Don’t be too long, remember Dot is teaching your girlfriend how to make her infamous bacon and onion roll, we’d be disowned if it was over-steamed. Who’s that over there? He looks like he isn’t here for the view. Could be harmless.”
“Probably not the greatest idea coming here with all that’s going on.”
“You weren’t to know, Tom.”
“But I did know. Here, the farmhouse, they are all out of bounds.”
“You think he’s alone?”
“No, there’s another one over there.”
“Where?” looking around.
“I won’t point, but just over my left shoulder. They got here just after us.”
“Bloody vermin.”
“Still not used to our new fame, are you, Mum?”
“I’ll never get used to it.”
“I prefer this. I prefer the truth being out.”
“Out. It’s bloody everywhere. I don’t know how you stay so calm with all this.”
“Calm about what?”
“Everyone talking about you. The chaos of it all.”
I didn’t answer.
“You go and say your farewells. Sorry for bringing it up. I don’t want to ruin your moment. I know how much this place means to you. Even if the moment isn’t as private as it should be.”
“It’s as private as I’m gonna get from now on,” I said, starting to head towards the island, trying to ignore that I was being followed, being watched, my photos taken, though already imagining it on the newsstands, jealous I wouldn’t be the one who took it myself.
Burgh Island deserved its front cover, I didn’t. The hotel in front, still as white and majestic, the tide either side like a middle parting, an orange sky not yet squashed purple. A man and his memories, walking towards his end and his beginning.
73
“You keep taking deep breaths,” I whispered. “I never knew you were scared of flying.”
“Flying I’m fine with. It’s what’s meeting us on the ground I’m scared of.”
“I should be more nervous than you. Try to get some sleep.”
“It’s impossible to sleep on planes.”
“Try telling those two,” I said, pointing across to Mum and Molly, sleep masks, catching flies.
“We’ll be OK, won’t we, Tom?”
I smiled, no answer required.
“Can we just camp out in our hotel for a few days? Lock the doors, eat junk, watch movies?”
“Sounds good. Though I’m not sure Molly will approve of being confined indoors, not with Disney on her front doorstep.”
“You still happy that I’m coming with you?”
“Course I am.” I put my arm around her. “What makes you say that?”
“Just over-thinking.”
“You fancy watching something? May not be the biggest screen but I’ll let you put your
legs on my lap.” Fiddling with the remote, pressing buttons on the hand rest, as the air steward asked if we’d like anything. “What shall we watch?”
“You can choose, Tom. Just nothing with a sad ending,” she said as she sank into my chest, a smile I couldn’t see, but one I knew was there.
America
Clearwater/June/Shot 1109
74
He’d fallen back off to sleep again, a deep sleep, his arm across my chest, a snore I was still getting used to. We should have been out of bed by now, room service was half eaten but that wouldn’t be the case for long, we planned on spending the next few hours making our way through it, and there was a lot of it. For the millionth time, we’d decided to watch Totoro, it was the right movie considering, appropriate for mornings as slow as these, like reading the most exquisite book without the need for words. What could I say, I’d always been a sucker for a subtitle, an even bigger sucker for anything anime. Whenever I watched Japanese cartoons I instantly felt too cool for school, made me feel I was in a Sega game, an instant nostalgia, ten years old again eating fruit loops before school.
In England, I got kind of obsessed with Japan all over again, found a huge book on the kitchen shelf which I’d skim through as I’d waited for whatever was bubbling away on the Aga. Page after page of stunning mountains, temples and palaces, pink cherry blossoms. Everything looked so peaceful, like the whole country had been taught to whisper. When I was little I wanted to be a samurai, but rather than the sword I’d asked for, on Christmas Day Santa brought me ballet shoes and I was forced to be the little girl I always pretended not to be. I asked my mom once why Japanese people had slanty eyes and the answer she gave meant I would never ask again. Though I wasn’t making an insult, it was genuine curiosity to find out how I could get them too, how I too could look like the girls in the cartoons, everything petite and perfect. I wanted to look different, I wanted people’s heads to turn.