by Lucy Coleman
‘No. It’s much too late for that. But thank you for caring, Tia. Most people don’t have time to notice a stranger’s troubles. But you aren’t like that and I appreciate it.’
He turns and begins walking away.
‘Is there’s anything I can do, anything at all?’
He turns his head slightly, not to look at me, but to talk over his shoulder.
‘Life is full of surprises, it seems. Help my son to see that this is where his future lies. Knowing he has someone positive around him at the moment is worth more to me than I can convey. Nic’s a stubborn man, but then the apple never falls far from the tree.’
My jaw drops and I’m left gasping as I watch Max trudge slowly back across the sand. After he disappears inside one of the cabins it takes me a little while to re-engage my brain. Is this the last piece of Nic’s puzzle? But why hide this from me? It doesn’t make any sense. I make my way back up the beach to the cottage in search of my phone.
‘Olwen, it’s Tia.’
‘Hi, Tia. Did I forget something?’
‘No, no. Um… is there any chance you could pop in for five minutes sometime this afternoon? I know how busy you are but I wanted to ask you something. Nic won’t be back until five o’clock at the earliest and I would prefer it if he wasn’t here.’
‘Oh, OK, then. Give me an hour.’ I can hear the concern in her voice but this isn’t something I want to talk about over the phone.
I have a quick tidy of the kitchen table, then I go and wash my face, hoping the cold water will revive me. It was such a shock and I didn’t see it coming. Why didn’t Nic tell me? I keep going over the little I can remember from a few references he made to his family, to check whether it was something I missed. Has he been lying to me by omission? One of our ground rules was no pretence. Even if he thinks it’s none of my business, it’s obvious I’m going to bump into Max. Whether Nic is aware that Max and I chat, is another thing entirely, but I now feel really awkward. Do I tell Nic that Max mentioned him to me? Or do I carry on letting him think that I’m still in the dark, as then I’d be the one who was lying to him. What I’m feeling now is bordering on confusion as I’d assumed I had a real grasp on Nic’s situation.
When Olwen arrives she has a small, boxed cake in her hands.
‘I thought you sounded like you might need a sugar boost. Is there a problem?’
We sit opposite each other at the table and I don’t try to hide my confusion.
‘It’s about Nic and Max.’
Olwen lets out a sharp breath and slumps back in her chair.
‘Feeling a bit caught in the middle? I didn’t realise Max was back.’
I nod, reluctantly, and cast around for some words that won’t make me sound angry and a little upset.
‘Nic never mentioned Max, not even once. I had no idea they were even related, let alone father and son. Why would he hide that?’
Olwen’s lips are pursed together in disapproval and I wonder if she’s going to tell me straight that it’s none of my business.
‘I didn’t know for sure whether you knew or not, and it wasn’t my place to share that fact. Like I said, oil and water.’
Absentmindedly, I run a hand through my hair, scooping it back from my face.
‘When Max mentioned Nic’s name, I was grateful it was a parting comment. How hurtful would it have been if I’d had to admit I didn’t know? At the very least, you would expect Nic to have enlightened me to avoid any potential awkwardness, even from a tenant’s point of view. But now we’re… friends and Max is aware of that, he’d be hurt to think Nic doesn’t acknowledge his presence at all. I hate to ask, but you’re right and I really am caught in the middle. Max asked me to do something for him, which means I need to understand what’s going on between them, first.’
Olwen doesn’t seem at all surprised by my reaction. Shaking her head sadly, she gives me a look tinged with what I can only describe as exasperation.
‘Even I don’t know the whole story. The open animosity between them has died down a lot in the last year, or so. At least it’s quieter now they choose to ignore each other, but it’s sad to see father and son so caught up in a bitter feud.’
I’m still trying to recall any clues Nic might have given me. ‘Nic said something about an overbearing mother and a father who was never around, but he never mentioned a name. I suppose Max was away at sea for long periods of time, but while it’s not an ideal situation, it’s not uncommon. He also said something about family interference just before he left his job in London. But that’s all I can remember.’
‘All I know is that Nic bought the cottage from Max, who had already moved into the cabins at that time. What I can’t understand is why Nic was so angry, as if he didn’t want the cottage at all and was resentful in some way. I think I told you, no one even knew Max was thinking of selling it. Let’s just say it wouldn’t have been on the market for very long, that’s for sure.’
‘So, Max was coming down and staying here in the cottage at weekends before building work began down on the beach?’
‘Yes.’
‘Who owned it before Max, then?’
‘No one is sure about that. One of the older people in the village recall a family coming down here years ago for the odd holiday. I only remember a stream of people from the time it was rented out. Whether Max bought it at that point, isn’t clear. Rhys was always a bit annoyed they used a firm from London to handle the rentals, but then they didn’t seem to have any real links down here. So, Max might have bought it as an investment, I suppose. I’m sorry, that doesn’t help you very much, does it?’
‘Well, it’s better than nothing. Max asked me to help Nic to see that his future is here, in Caswell Bay. That’s rather an odd request, because Nic hasn’t said anything about going back to London.’
I think Olwen can see the dilemma. ‘Perhaps you are better off waiting to see what happens. At least you are aware of Max’s concern and you think Nic should stay here, don’t you? There’s no reason he’d suddenly up and leave?’
It’s clear why she’s asking that question and it’s to do with the growing friendship between Nic and myself. I know she’s protective of him and I hope she can see that I like Nic enough to want what’s best for him, too.
‘His future is here, Olwen, I have no doubt of that. And thanks for listening and for the advice. I guess I’ll wait and see what happens, rather than raking it all up. Sometimes things have a way of sorting themselves out over time.’
We both know this isn’t going to go away, but there’s little point in either of us stepping into the situation in case that actually makes it worse. Olwen probably came to that conclusion a long time ago. But if the opportunity arises to mention the bridges I’m building with my own brother, it might start Nic talking. However, the timing will have to be perfect, because it’s such a sensitive issue. I don’t want anything to mar our last three weeks together. What Nic doesn’t need right now, is an argument that might threaten to undermine his newfound positivity.
It’s not long after Olwen leaves that Nic walks in through the door on a high.
‘Thank goodness it’s Friday and the weekend beckons. And we’ve been invited to a drinks party tomorrow night.’
‘We?’
He lifts me off the floor and spins me around. Any stray, little angry vibes that I felt are dispelled. His happiness is infectious.
‘Yes, and I took the liberty of accepting on behalf of us both. I didn’t think you’d mind. Gareth is having a small celebration to mark his fifteenth year as editor of the paper. It won’t be a large gathering and it’s informal. A couple of glasses of wine and a few canapés, but John Llywelyn from Natureland Experience will be there.’
He looks down at me, then plants a quick kiss on my forehead.
‘Oh, so I’m there to circulate while you chat to John?’
He at least has the decency to look guilty as charged.
‘There will be some interesting peopl
e there and as a journalist yourself, I know that nothing is ever wasted. All material is stored up here.’ He taps the side of my head. ‘You never know when something is going to come in useful.’
In the same way that being told Max is your father might have been just a tad helpful to me? I shake the thought off, wanting to raise my own spirits rather than dampen them.
‘Being a people-watcher is a part of the job and I hold my hands up to that.’
He takes half a pace backwards, letting his hands slide down my arms to catch my fingertips in his hands. It is now becoming an endearing habit, which sends little tingles rippling through me every time. I’d forgotten how wonderful and special it makes you feel to be desired. Hayley was right, I do need this.
‘So you should. I can’t believe you had me pouring out my entire story.’
Not the entire story, Nic, and you know that.
‘Well, when the cheque arrives I hope I’m still here, because you can take me out to dinner.’
‘Sorry, it’s going to have to be a barbecue on the beach as the boiler is going to suck up every single penny. I can’t risk another winter knowing it could break down at any moment.’
‘That reminds me, Max is back.’
Nic glances at me, his face blank and showing no emotion whatsoever.
‘Well, we’ll just have to keep the noise down a little, then.’
27
Life is Seldom Predictable
I decide to dress up a little for the celebration tonight, now I’m going as Nic’s significant other. Well, we know our situation is only temporary, but I’m sure there will be people there who might not feel so comfortable with that thought. In fairness, it doesn’t really change anything about the way we act when we are together, so what harm can it do? I have no reason to hide the fact that I enjoy being with him.
Gareth is very personable and we have a little chat after Nic introduces us, then shoots off the moment John arrives. I congratulate him on his achievement. Fifteen years is a long run as editor. He’s the one who has shaped its future and ensured it continued to thrive.
‘It’s the hub of our little community,’ he admits. ‘Nic has been a great addition to the team. He tells me you will be returning to London in a few weeks’ time? I expect you are missing the buzz. I still miss it after all these years, but life is gentler down here.’
‘I didn’t realise. Which publication did you work for?’
‘Sea, Sand and Surf Monthly. Those were the days. But I’m content here and I’m able to indulge my hobby of deep sea fishing. Besides, my wife is happy, which is the main thing.’
He lifts his eyebrows and I stifle a laugh.
‘You and Max will have a lot in common, then; although he seems to stay quite close to the shore when he’s fishing.’ I’m really only making polite conversation, especially as Nic is nowhere to be seen.
‘We go back quite a way. Fishermen tend to gravitate towards each other. Not a lot of people understand the fascination of it, but it’s the thrill of the chase and the skill in landing the fish. Of course, most of our stories are about the ones that got away.’
He has a throaty, belly-laugh that carries and eyes turn in our direction.
‘Beach View Cottage will have seen a lot of people come and go, but I don’t expect too many of them were fisher folk.’
Gareth nods in agreement.
‘It’s seen it all, has that old cottage. Happy and sad times, that’s for sure. The tragic death of Max’s daughter, Georgina, almost destroyed him.’ He looks down into his drink, his expression one of deep sadness.
Max lost his daughter?
‘That must have been an awful time.’ The blood is rushing around my veins like it’s on fire. Trying to stay calm and hide any sense of being thrown by yet another totally unexpected revelation, is very difficult.
‘I do believe Max’s wife never visited the cottage again after that.’
‘I didn’t realise you’d known Max for such a long time.’
Gareth scans the room, catching sight of Nic and John sitting at a table in the corner and chatting away, oblivious to the mingling going on around them. When his gaze returns to me I can see he’s slightly hesitant to answer my question.
‘Look, I’m aware that none of the locals seem to know anything much about the history of Holly Cove and its visitors, but my intentions are good, I can assure you of that and I can be trusted.’
I can see from his expression that his friendship means a lot to him.
‘I gathered as much. But this has to be just between the two of us, Tia. Old wounds and all that but sometimes the past hampers the future and there’s still a lot of pain that hasn’t gone away.’ I nod my head in agreement and he can see that I’m not taking my pledge lightly.
‘Max didn’t always come down when the family were able to make it for the odd weekend and short break. I first met him in the local pub when he was home on leave and had come down for a few days on his own to fish. That was probably fifteen years ago and since then we’ve fished together countless times.
‘I didn’t have occasion to meet his wife or Nic during that time and I’ve only known Nic since he moved here three years ago. What I know is what I heard directly from Max on his fishing trips. Towards the end of Georgina’s illness, she spent a lot of time here with Nic as her carer and few knew that at the time. It was in two thousand and eight. Max was rarely around as he was often at sea still in his capacity as a trainer. No one really knows what happened in Holly Cove but over a pint Max admitted there was some sort of dispute going on. His wife wanted to move Georgina into a hospice in London, I believe, but she refused to go. In the end Nic brought in a private nurse as Georgina needed twenty-four-hour care and he was struggling. No one can simply step out of their life for an unknown period like that but Nic did, until it was over. That’s why he came back to rescue the cottage because to him it’s the only place where he can still feel close to her.’
It’s hard to hide my confusion. I can understand Max not mentioning this, as he hardly knows me, but I really thought Nic was making a concerted effort to confront the demons in his past. He said he came from a dysfunctional family, but surely the loss of a sister is way outside of that and a major life event that will have affected everything.
Knowing that Nic would be horrified by this conversation, I decide to change the subject as quickly as I can.
‘It helps to understand a little more about what went on, Gareth, and I’m more grateful than you can ever know. I won’t say a word to anyone, I promise. And what about your future? Is there any intention to take things a little easier?’
‘There’s no one in the wings to take over, so I guess they’re stuck with me. Nic’s destined for much bigger things, of course, but his contributions will always be much appreciated.’
‘He’d be very pleased to hear that. I’d better let you mingle I suppose and I ought to say a brief hello to John. It’s been lovely talking to you, Gareth. Thank you.’ I labour my parting words, my head still trying to process the unexpected information. This is the missing piece of the puzzle that is Nic’s past.
By the time I walk across the room John has already left and Nic is talking to someone else. He indicates for me to take the seat next to him and we pass a very pleasant couple of hours, as our little group grows in size. There’s a lot of banter and talk about the coming summer season and the events everyone hopes will bring a record number of visitors to the area.
When the taxi drops us back at the cottage, Nic doesn’t want to end the evening with a walk along the beach, despite my encouragement.
‘Let’s cosy up together on the sofa and listen to some music,’ he whispers in my ear. I continue unlocking the front door, as he plants little kisses on my cheek.
‘Don’t you miss not having a decent size TV, even if it’s just to watch a film, now and again? It’s not quite the same on a laptop, or iPad.’
His face visibly falls, but almost instantly he
regains his composure. What did I say that he could have possibly taken the wrong way? Or does this hark back to the precious time he spent here with Georgina? He stepped away from his career at probably quite an important time in his life to honour his sister’s wishes. That can’t have been easy and I wonder who paid for the private nurse? The questions whirl around inside my head; questions I know I can’t ask.
‘It’s overrated and I’d rather read a book, or go for a walk on the beach.’ He tries to shrug it off and walks out into the kitchen to put the kettle on. I’m still puzzling over the boxes in the cupboard under the stairs, which seem to be full of DVDs. It’s frustrating because I wish he’d just open up to me but that’s a decision Nic has to make and not something I can force.
It was only a moment ago he turned down my suggestion for an evening stroll, which would have been a lovely way to end a relaxing Saturday together. I hope he isn’t stressing after his long chat with John. Obviously, the project is going ahead. He’s already warned me he’ll be heading to the park tomorrow and will be gone most of the day, even though it’s Sunday. It’s difficult working two jobs Monday to Friday, so he has no choice in the matter. I fully understand he’s eager to begin working, but on the other hand it’s kind of sad as I only have two full weekends left at Beach View Cottage.
He returns, leaning back against the doorway with a meaningful grin on his face.
‘Besides, I have other plans for the rest of the night. The sofa was just the prelude.’
His mood has lifted again and whatever little cloud had suddenly appeared on the horizon has now passed over. But it shows he’s still getting his moments of… anxiety, flashbacks, or guilt for what he’s still holding back, who knows? I guess I’ll never know for sure if he chooses not to share those thoughts with me. I can’t pretend I’m not upset to think he doesn’t trust me enough to bare all, but he made his intentions clear from the start and he hasn’t lied, as such. He said a few things about the loss of my mum that really connected with me. After hearing about the death of his sister, I can now appreciate why – because it came from the heart. I should have known that it wasn’t sympathy, but empathy, and that’s something only someone who has experienced a similar loss can offer.