'Lily?' she gasped.
'No, not Lily,' the girl replied her English accent apparent. 'I'm Neve. Neve Hobson.'
Down on Cariad Lili Bay Beach the night air was freezing. Chandra and Stewart built a bonfire on the sand so they could huddle beside its welcoming warmth.
While Aisley sat close to the flames she watched Neve, still finding it hard to believe she was actually here at Sheldon's Seat. It was like a novel where the brave heroine crosses the sea to return triumphantly to her ancestral home, or something like that anyway.
'I'm glad I look like her.' Neve's eyes were soft in the firelight as she gazed at the old photo of Lily Sheldon in her petticoat on this very beach. 'Just imagine. My great, great grandmother. I feel like I know her.' She took a deep breath and looked around the dark beach. 'And I know this place too. I dreamed of it and I dreamed of her.' She smiled across the fire. 'Do you believe in dreams coming true, Aisley?'
'Oh yes.' Aisley smiled back. 'I certainly do.'
Neve tried to give the photo back but Aisley shook her head.
'It's yours,' she said. 'When I first took it out of that old shoebox I knew it was too special to go back in there, so I kept it. Now I know who I was keeping it for.'
'Thank you.' Neve murmured. 'I've never had a photo of any relative before.'
'For real?' Stewart was amazed. 'Not even your parents?'
'Them I don't want a picture of,' she assured him. 'Tell you why one day.'
'I wish you would.' He'd been following Neve around like a puppy dog since he'd arrived at Sheldon's Seat at midday and could barely take his eyes off her.
'I'd like a picture of my brother, Dillon, though,' Neve said. 'Him I do miss.' She looked down at Lily's picture for a moment. 'There was a photo of Sheldon's Seat hanging on the wall at my grandad's house. I know for a fact that it was Sheldon's Seat because he told me so, a hundred times. It looked so posh, like somewhere the queen might go for a holiday.'
Aisley pulled a face. 'It sure doesn't look like that anymore.'
It had been a tumultuous day full of noise and excitement. Everyone wanted to meet Neve and Neve wanted to meet everyone as well. She'd followed Aisley eagerly all over Sheldon's Seat, her eyes wide at all sights before her, trying to take it all in. After the commotion it was nice to be down on the beach, with just the four of them and the bonfire.
'My grandad just banged on about the house the whole time,' Neve said pulling her hair from its messy bun so it fell down her back in a cascade of white blonde spirals. 'He was such a miserable sod. Dillon and I always went to stay with him when our dad got mean and it was so depressing.' She rolled her eyes in a comical way that made the others laugh.
'You didn't inherit his grumpiness by the looks of things,' Chandra said.
'What's the point in being grumpy?' Neve said. 'Life hands you enough shit as it is. Why make more?' She hugged her knees and looked at Aisley. 'You sent your letter to the home of my friend Sammy, which is where I've been living for the last year.'
'You moved out at sixteen?'
'No, I was only fourteen when I moved out,' Neve explained. 'I didn't meet Sammy until two years later.' She snorted suddenly and shook her head. 'Moved out. More like, I had to go. My mum had lots of … boyfriends and they were right pillocks. They …' She stopped abruptly. 'Anyway, I dossed about, slept on friend's floors, hostels, doorways, you name it. Things only got better when Sammy found me.'
Aisley tried to imagine leaving home at fourteen and having nowhere to go. She was starting to understand the reason why Lily had begged her to find Neve. … She can't wait much longer. She needs help now…
'So fast forward and you hop on a plane to Australia,' she said. 'You know, Neve, it would've been much cheaper to call.'
Neve laughed. 'I never even considered it,' she said. 'Your letter was the answer to my prayers. Finally I had a purpose, and somewhere to go.' She stopped speaking and flapped her hands. 'Oh, I dunno. You must all think I sound pathetic!'
'No!' Stewart was adamant. 'I think you sound awesome.' He was rewarded with a beautiful smile. 'And I think you're a survivor,' he added.
'That's what Sammy said, when I left him.' Neve's blue eyes were soft in the firelight when she spoke about Sammy.
'He sounds like a good friend,' Aisley said.
'He was,' said Neve. 'He is. The best. He saved my life.' She went quiet and stroked the tattoo on her wrist. 'After I left Sammy's, I went to London and worked until I saved the money for a ticket, and here I am. I've got a bed at the Jarvis back-packers hostel and a couple of shifts at the Duke of York hotel. My boss is a sleaze but he keeps his hands to himself so that's okay.'
She took a deep breath and looked at the photo of Lily again. 'Life is good.'
The fire crackled, keeping the night wind at bay, and Stewart impulsively reached across and took her hand. 'Not good,' he told her. 'Great.'
Neve walked from the backpackers' hostel into Seamere village and reached the Melba café at eight in the morning. The sky was pink overhead when she came out holding two coffee's on a cardboard tray and two muffins in a paper bag.
…red sky in the morning, sailor's warning…
A snatch of the old rhyme came to her, and she wondered if it might rain later.
Not that she cared. It could rain, snow, hail, blizzard … she'd still be warm inside. After spending the day before at Sheldon's Seat, meeting Aisley and her family and friends … and Stewart Thomas … she'd never be cold again.
Arriving on the beach she sipped her coffee and waited. She could count three surfers out there and wondered which one was him.
She didn't have to wait long to find out. Stewart soon came out of the water and made his way over to where she was sitting. He laid his board on the ground and as Neve picked up the remaining cup and held it up to him an expression crossed his face that she couldn't quite read. It was touching, maybe a little sad.
'Are you okay?' she asked.
He smiled, the sun coming out from behind a cloud. 'I'm fine,' he said taking the coffee gratefully and sitting by her side where he proceeded to stare at her without a trace of self-consciousness.
'I brought you a muffin too,' she told him. 'I hope you like cinnamon and apple.'
'Sweet!' He dug in the bag and made the muffin disappear so fast that she burst out laughing.
'Would you like the other one as well?' she offered. 'You're obviously starving!'
'You work up an appetite surfing,' he grinned. 'And no thank you. The other one is your breakfast.' Seawater dripped off his fringe and he pushed it back.
'Your hair is such a gorgeous colour,' Neve told him. 'Like rust.'
'Um, is that a good thing?'
'Oh yes!'
'Well, cheers then.' He went back to staring at her. 'I don't know how else to say this, Neve, so I'm just going to come out with it. I met you like, twelve hours ago and I haven't stopped thinking about you since. I didn't sleep a wink last night but this morning I feel amazing!' He shook his head in wonder. 'What are you? Some kind of good witch or something?'
She smiled. 'No. I'm just Neve.'
'I think I'm crazy about you and that's … well, that's … crazy!'
'I feel the same about you.'
'But how is that even possible?'
'Some things in life don't need explanation, that's all.'
He put his coffee aside, untouched, and put his hand over hers. She gripped his fingers and then all of a sudden he was reaching for her, dragging her into his arms, kissing her…
Like he'd been waiting to do this his whole life.
Neve examined the rain-clouds scudding across the sky and suspected it would pour down before too long. Stewart was gazing beyond her and out to sea and the expression on his face was so tranquil that she could watch it forever. She put a hand on his knee, making him jump.
'Sorry,' she said snatching her fingers away.
'No.' He put her hand back. 'Don't say sorry, because you don't ever need to be,
okay?'
'Alright.'
'Can I tell you a story?' he asked. 'I'd really like you to hear it. It might take me a while because it's not easy. I've never told it before.'
'Go for it.'
'You asked me, just before, if I was okay? When you gave me the coffee? Well, it was just because you doing that reminded me of someone else who used to do a similar thing.' He reached for the coffee in question and took a mouthful, and then he carried on.
'I was in year nine,' he began. 'I'd just turned fifteen. I remember, because mum and dad let me have my first real party, you know, with girls and everything. I invited everyone in my class and I thought I was pretty shit hot, let me tell you!'
'One of the girls who came was called Willa. I had a huge crush on her, and had done for, oh I dunno … ages. Cut a long story short, by the end of my party I'm feeling brave so I ask her if she'd go out with me. She says yes straight away, like she's been waiting for me to ask, and just like that we're a couple.'
He stopped and took a deep breath, taking a moment to examine the tattoo on Neve's wrist. He ran his fingers gently over it. 'That's really beautiful,' he said.
'Thank you,' she said. 'It's a lily, believe it or not. Bit of a coincidence, what with my great, great grandmother and all, huh?'
'Or not.' Stewart shrugged one shoulder. 'Let's call it fate.'
'Okay,' she said. 'It's fate. So, what happened to you and Willa?'
'What happened?' He sighed. 'Where to start? In the beginning, it was great. Hanging out and holding hands. Willa was often a bit… moody but then she'd snap out of it. I was a typical male and thought it was just girl stuff. I didn't notice it was getting worse.' He stopped suddenly and ran a hand through his wet hair. 'Strike that,' he said. 'I did notice. I just ignored it.'
He looked into her eyes. 'If I ever, ever ignore you when you need me, you have to give me a swift kick in the nuts, okay.'
'Okay,' she promised, and they grinned at one another at the image it conjured up.
'Anyway,' he continued. 'A year or two later and Willa was in a bad way, Anxiety, depression … her moods went from one extreme to the other. Me, being an arsehole still ignored the problem.'
She leaned against him. 'You're not an arsehole, Stewart.'
'I was in those days,' he insisted. 'We got into a pattern we couldn't break out of. We were breaking up and making up so often it was a joke.'
'And you'd go back to her again?'
'Oh yeah, every time,' he nodded. 'And here's the thing, Neve. I understand now but I didn't then. She thought nobody cared. That wasn't true, but she believed it. So when she called, I'd run, and then the whole mess would start all over again. I used to worry that I was going to start hating her. That's how bad it got!' He sighed. 'Sorry. It's hard talking about this.'
'You don't have to,' she said gently.
'I do have to,' he said. 'I need you to know. I've never laid it out like this before.'
'Okay. Just take your time.'
'Thank you,' he said. 'Freya … you met Freya yesterday … well, she had a big party in April, when she turned seventeen. Lasted all weekend. At this party I dumped Willa and I knew that this time it was forever.' He frowned at the sand. 'She ran away and fell down a cliff trying to make me feel guilty… god! She couldn't have made me feel any guiltier than I already felt!'
'It wasn't your fault she fell down a cliff,' Neve said. She felt a fat raindrop fall on her head. Another soon followed. Those storm clouds were just about to burst.
'I felt like it was.' Stewart shook his head. 'She wouldn't let me see her and she wouldn't talk to me either. She said everything was her fault and that she was sorry for wasting two years of my life. She told me to stay away.'
She gazed sympathetically at him. 'And did you?' she asked. 'Did you stay away?'
'Yes,' he said sadly. 'I really regret that.' He passed a hand over his face and when he looked at her again, there were tears in his eyes. 'She committed suicide, Neve. It all got too hard and she killed herself.'
'Oh no…' Neve gasped. She hadn't seen that coming!
'And I did nothing to stop it.'
'Stewart …'
'Nothing!' he spat out. 'I did nothing!' He shoved the heels of both hands into his eyes trying unsuccessfully to stop the inevitable tears.
Neve wrapped her arms fiercely around him. She held him while he cried for the first time since Willa died all those months before. As if out of sympathy for Stewart, the heavens opened and it started to rain properly, the drops dappling the dry sand around where they sat.
'So now you know,' he mumbled from deep in her arms. 'You're getting damaged goods. If I were you, Neve, I'd get up now and leave before it's too late.'
She took his tear-stained face in her hands and kissed his eyes, his cheeks and his lips. 'It's already too late,' she smiled. 'Because I loved you as soon as I saw you.'
'You are a witch,' he murmured. 'I was right.'
'No, really,' she laughed gently. 'But it is like magic, isn't it?' She brushed his wet hair back from his brow. 'Can you feel it? I've been feeling it ever since I got here. At Sheldon's Seat. On Lily's beach. With you. It's everywhere!'
The rain was getting heavier and the day was turning as dark as night. Stewart untangled himself from her and got to his feet. Reaching out his hand, he helped her up as well.
'Where are we going?' she wondered.
'My place,' he said. He felt tired but washed clean. He felt better than he had in, well … in four months. Picking up his surfboard he led her up the sand and away from the beach.
It was late morning, and both of Stewart's parents were at work.
His home was a comfy old weatherboard nestled amongst the rolling hills of Seamere East. The blue paint was peeling in the salty air and the roof needed repair, but Neve didn't think she'd ever seen a more cosy home in her life. From the wooden blinds in the windows to the faded wicker chairs on the veranda, it welcomed her. And she loved how she could see across the ocean to the cliffs, and despite the bad weather, there was Sheldon's Seat in plain view on the top of Loch Hill.
She leaned on the veranda railing and gazed at the old mansion while he went to get changed out of his wetsuit. 'From here it looks like new,' she said when he came outside again. 'You can imagine what it looked like a hundred years ago.'
Stewart walked along the veranda, the boards creaking under his feet. He slipped his arms around her from the back and rested his chin on her shoulder. His eyes followed her pointing finger.
'Or what it'll look like again after Mr and Mrs Brannon are done,' he said.
'Yes.'
'Neve?' He turned her around to face him. 'It's your turn to tell me your story.'
'There's not that much to tell,' she shrugged. She eased out from his arms and went to sit in one of the old wicker chairs. The rain beat a comforting tattoo on the metal veranda roof above their heads.
'I grew up in a crappy flat in Manchester,' she told him. 'My mum's a stupid cow, and my dad's a pillock who stole my brother away from me years ago. I couldn't wait to get out of there. That's about it.'
'Bull,' He scolded gently. 'Come on, I've showed you mine. Now you show me yours.' He leaned back against the railing and buried his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.
She heaved a sigh, laced her hands together across her middle and stared up at him. 'It's not pretty,' she warned. 'You think you're damaged goods. My pathetic tale might scare you off.'
'Doubt it.'
'He's brave as well as hot.'
'Damn straight.' They smiled at each other.
'Once upon a time,' she began. 'I was twelve. My dad… the pillock… left my mum. He took my fourteen year old brother, Dillon, with him and I haven't seen either of them since. Good riddance, so far as my old man was concerned. All he ever did was scare me anyway and I could care less if he lived or died, but Dillon… I love Dillon. I miss him every day.' She watched the ocean. 'My dad drank a lot, and when he drank, he got violent. He
hit my mum and he hit me. He was a real woman-hater, you know. He even put me in the hospital once.'
She held out her left arm. 'He broke my wrist dragging me out from under a bed so he could thump me. I screamed so loud the neighbours came and they called the ambulance. At least I got out of the beating. When others were around he was a real coward.'
Without a word, Stewart crossed the veranda and sank into the wicker chair next to hers.
'When things got too bad,' Neve continued. 'The social workers would step in and send us kids to our grandparents. That's where I saw the picture I told you about. After my dad finally left for good, my mum started taking in boarders to pay the rent.'
She screwed up her nose. 'Well, they were customers really … you know? Johns … punters, whatever you want to call them. They paid for sex. Such total creeps! I hated those guys.' She twisted her long hair into a spiral over one shoulder and took Stewart's hand. 'This is where you start wishing you hadn't asked to hear my story,' she told him.
He squeezed her hand in return. 'Let me be the judge of that.'
She carried on. 'When I turned thirteen, my mother suggested that she wanted me to help out with the money earning. She said her customers would pay a lot for me because I was so young. I can't begin to tell you how that scared me. I was terrified from that moment on, just waiting for the day when she'd make me go with one of them. I'd stack things behind my bedroom door at night in case one of them tried to come in while I was asleep. It was like living in a lion's cage.'
Stewart leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees as a healthy dose of anger coursed steadily through his veins. 'What about those useless grandparents?' he asked. 'Where were they when their granddaughter really needed them?'
'We'd lost touch with them by then,' Neve told him. 'We'd moved a couple of times, each time into a worse place, and they were my dad's parents, not my mums. Besides, she hated them like poison and would never have gone to them for help. She'd been using heroin on and off but it was getting so she was high all the time. Her punters would show up and let themselves in, then finding her passed out on the settee, they'd stick their hands up my skirt instead. The number of times I had to make a run for it, out the back door and down the alley …' She gave him a tight smile. 'Real child-friendly house, huh?'
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