Somewhere Beyond the Sea

by Miranda Dickinson

  ‘Then you have to tell her. Maybe you were meant to be together because you both loved the stars on the beach.’

  ‘She might not want to be with me, Ness.’

  She crosses her arms again. ‘It doesn’t matter. You have to tell her, Dad.’

  I should ask her how she feels about her dad possibly being with someone else and have all the grown-up conversations I’m meant to have with my child about a prospective Other Person coming into our lives. But I get the feeling Nessie is happy with what she knows so far – if anything else happens, we can talk more then.

  We go inside to find Owen and Sarah setting up their Xbox on our small TV. Their boys are bouncing excitedly on the sofa and Ness goes to join them as they await their latest game battle.

  ‘All set?’ my brother grins, leaving Sarah to finish the job. It’s long been a source of amusement to me that Owen is a complete technophobe, despite giving all the outward fuss and bluster of a man who knows everything about it. If you didn’t know him you’d assume he was a whizz with anything technical; in truth he has problems making a call from his iPhone, let alone anything else.

  ‘They can’t get hold of her,’ I say, lowering my voice as we move away to the kitchen. ‘Cerrie’s trying, but so far no joy.’

  Owen pulls a face. ‘Ah. Not good.’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘So, what’s Plan B?’

  ‘There isn’t one.’

  ‘Bro, that’s tough.’

  There’s a loud cheer from the living room as Sarah raises her hands in triumph and the kids all crowd around the games controller.

  I look at Owen, fear rising in my gut. ‘What if she doesn’t come?’

  ‘Then you find another way to tell her. She doesn’t know what she’s meant to be going to the site for. She has no idea you’re going to be there, or that her friends have told you about the stars and everything. If she doesn’t come it means she’d rather not see anyone this evening. You can’t take it personally.’

  I know he’s right. But I can’t escape the feeling that it has to happen tonight. Once Brotherson launches it tomorrow, it becomes everyone’s property. To show Seren after the event would take something fundamental away. ‘It feels personal,’ I say, holding up my hands when he chuckles. ‘I know it doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘You’re in love, Stink,’ he grins, the Owen Dixon Hair Ruffle a heartfelt gesture in the circumstances. ‘It’s not supposed to make sense.’

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Seren

  It’s good to be on the road. I have the radio on and the windows open, the smell of the sea filling the car and the beautiful haze of sun painting the road ahead of me pale gold. It’s been so long since I last went away that I’d forgotten the huge sense of relief that comes with finally being on my way. This must be how every visitor to St Ives feels when their cars are packed, work is done for a week or a weekend and all that lies ahead is a journey towards the sea and time in one of the most beautiful places on the planet. No wonder people return year after year. This place calls you home even if you weren’t born here. It becomes part of you even if you’ve only spent a few days in it.

  Before I left I had a call from Lou, who wanted to meet me for coffee. I’d just visited Becca to tell her I was going away for a while, and all I wanted to do was get on the road. I almost didn’t agree to see Lou, but I’m so glad I did.

  We met at Porthmeor Beach Cafe, where the view was so stunning it was hard not to just sit in amiable silence with our coffee and cake and drink it all in. Lou offered his condolences for the loss of the shop, which I appreciated. He lost his own bait and tackle business in the town fifteen years ago, and it took him years to recover. His wife owns a small clothing store now, which he helps to run, and I think they’ve finally managed to reclaim much of the money they lost. But it’s been a struggle, like it is for many business owners in St Ives.

  ‘You still made your dad proud,’ he assured me, the loss and experience in his eyes giving his words weight. ‘Mark wouldn’t have wanted you to carry on as it was.’

  ‘I hope I did the right thing.’

  ‘You did.’ He fell silent for a while, fiddling with a paper napkin. ‘I was aware of the mess he left you, you know.’

  The revelation surprised me. Dad was generous with his time and his enthusiasm for everyone else, but intensely private about his own affairs. ‘Did he tell you?’

  ‘I guessed and he told me the rest. We were talkin’ about the campaign, not long before he died. I was worried about him – he’d got so thin and tired and I didn’t think he was lookin’ after himself. My brother went the same way before his heart attack. I saw the signs and I told him. I just didn’t know how close he was to – well, you know.’

  ‘None of us did, Lou.’

  He nodded but his eyes reddened. ‘He was a good man.’

  ‘He was.’

  ‘You’ve done us proud, girl. Kept your dad’s memory alive. Fought for Elinor Carne.’

  ‘But the vote . . .’

  He batted this away. ‘Aggie told me. You did us a favour, I reckon. It would have been difficult to make that site work for us. I was just too concerned with stoppin’ Brotherson to see it. Better that we got the town fired up about Elinor. This mobile exhibition is a much better option. Folks are gettin’ behind it now because they can see something for their money straight away.’ He smiled. ‘Jack Dixon is a good bloke. Just supportin’ his family, like your dad wanted to.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter now,’ I said, not wanting to think about Jack. He was just one more thing I wanted to put at a distance to myself. Another thing I was about to drive away from.

  ‘I have somethin’ for you,’ Lou said, taking an object wrapped in a carrier bag from the seat beside him. ‘Lady got in touch with me after we’d had the announcement about the mobile exhibition in the paper. Turns out she’s the great-niece of the woman who gave your dad Elinor Carne’s journals. The old lady passed away last year and this was among her things. She thought we could have it for the exhibition, but I think you should have it.’

  I took out a tissue-paper-wrapped parcel and cleared a space on the table to set it down. Pulling the crumpled paper aside, I found a small roll of midnight-blue velvet. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Open it and you’ll see.’

  The fabric was old and patches were beginning to fray at the ends. I unrolled it slowly, taking care to support the material. As the last section rested open against the table, I saw the stitching and gasped.

  ‘It’s a star map.’

  ‘It’s Elinor’s star map,’ Lou said, his voice a reverential whisper.

  Across the velvet were tiny stitches of silver, remarkably vivid given their age. The constellations of the night sky, stitched in perfect place by the woman who loved the stars. It was the most stunningly beautiful thing I’d ever seen. But to know Elinor Carne created it made it precious beyond price.

  ‘I can’t have this, Lou.’

  ‘Yes, you can. Elinor was denied the chance to show us what she was capable of. But it didn’t stop her doin’ what she loved, where she was. She used what she had to do what she most wanted to do.’ Lou placed a hand on mine. ‘Plans change, girl. Doors close. But dreams come in many forms. You can find what you were always meant to have, if you look hard enough for it.’

  It’s in my bag in the boot of my car now, the most wonderful gift as I set off to rediscover my life. I imagine Elinor in the parsonage she was to live in all her life, stitching stars into the scrap of fabric – fixing her dreams into material. She never stopped gazing at the stars or recording what she found. I’m sure it frustrated her that someone else claimed credit for her discovery, but she didn’t give up her passion. Her journals charted her stargazing right up until the week of her death, aged just fifty-six. She carried on, making her dream happen in the best way she could.

  I didn’t expect to find myself here, having taken on and then relinquished Dad’s concerns. I didn’t t
hink I’d be looking at a future I hadn’t planned, or be considering how I want my life to be. I didn’t think I would be driving away for a while on my own. And yet, here I am. What happens next is up to me.

  I’m already twenty miles from St Ives when I suddenly remember I didn’t leave any water for Molly. I pull over into a layby and try Mum’s phone, but it goes straight to voicemail. A call to our neighbour goes unanswered, too. I’m furious with myself, but I don’t know when Mum will get back and I can’t risk leaving my dog without water all day.

  Reluctantly, I turn the car around and head back towards St Ives.

  As soon as I get to Hayle, the road congestion begins. It’s a Friday and glorious weather, so in addition to the usual traffic heading home for the weekend, opportunistic holidaymakers are driving along the coast for a long weekend break. Plus, a lorry has decided to overtake a tractor going up the hill on the bypass, blocking the road completely. All I can do is sit in the slow-moving queue and be part of the snail-like procession.

  My mobile rings again from its cradle on the dashboard.

  AGGIE – 4 missed calls

  With nothing better to do, I hit the speaker button.

  ‘I’ve been callin’ you all afternoon. No answer. And then I just saw Becca and she said you’d gone. Wasson, Ser?’

  Aggie sounds out of breath and I can hear the angry dig of her boots as she walks.

  ‘I just need some time out, Ag. I was going to ring you . . .’

  ‘What about your mum? Does she know where you are?’

  I sigh. Why can’t she just accept I need some time for myself? ‘I’ve left her a note. She’ll be fine anyway.’

  ‘But you might not be. You’ve had a hell of a day – and one hell of a six months before it.’

  ‘Which is why I need to escape for a bit. Please, Ag, try to understand.’

  ‘You need to get back here. We said we’d toast the shop this evenin’. That was a date, right?’

  I know she means well, but I feel under attack. I sweep a line of dust from the dashboard stereo with my finger. ‘I know we said we’d meet and honestly, it’s a lovely idea. But I just don’t think I can deal with it today. We’ll do it when I get back.’

  ‘And when’s that likely to be?’

  ‘Couple of weeks? I don’t know for sure.’

  ‘No. Come back now, do the toast, set off tomorrow. It’s one day, Seren. Won’t make no difference.’

  I stare at the almost stationary line of cars and vans ahead of me. In my rear-view mirror it stretches back as far as I can see. I’m trapped. ‘I just want to get away, Ag. I wasn’t prepared for how hard it would be to give up the shop. I need time to get my head around it.’

  ‘And you can, but . . . You shouldn’t be on your own tonight. We know what you’ve lost, okay? So, who better to be with than your friends who know it all?’

  Why can’t she let me be? I’m torn: talking about it has made me wonder if I really can just drive away from this huge loss. Would marking it make my journey easier? Would I find closure drinking beer with my friends at The Maidens? Part of me is scared that if I stay in St Ives I’ll talk myself out of leaving at all. I think I need this: time to make sense of everything that’s happened; time to finally grieve for Dad without all the other concerns getting in my way. I want a wide, open space to feel whatever I need to feel. It’s my first chance to make a choice about what I want to do and I’m reluctant to let anything stop me. But would postponing it by a day really make any difference?

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Where are you now?’

  ‘On the road. Stuck in traffic.’

  ‘Maybe the traffic is a sign . . .’

  ‘A sign of weekend traffic, maybe.’

  ‘Seren, come on.’

  ‘I don’t believe in signs.’

  ‘Please. I think you’ll regret it if you don’t. Sayin’ goodbye is important. You need it to close the door and move on.’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ I say, seeking an end to our conversation.

  ‘Promise me you’ll come back. Just for a few hours?’

  ‘I’ll think about it. That’s all I can promise.’

  I end the call and lean my head back against my seat. Ahead of me the stubborn line of red lights refuses to budge. At this rate it could be too late to set off again once I’ve visited Molly. Should I wait for one more day?

  Chapter Seventy

  Jack

  It’s almost four forty-five p.m. when I return to Nessie’s school. I’ve told myself I can’t worry about Seren not showing. Her friends know her better than I do and they won’t give up trying to get her there. Owen was right: she doesn’t know what’s really happening. It isn’t personal and she isn’t avoiding me because she doesn’t even know I’m going to be there.

  While I’ve been building the new structure, I’ve thought about all the chances I had to talk to her after the vote. I’m an idiot for not taking them. I should have gone to see her next day. I definitely should have tried to see her before she lost the shop. I should have sought her out and apologised for how I was the night we won.

  Can I really expect her to feel anything for me now?

  I can’t think like that. Everything I’ve done in the last three weeks has been my attempt to make amends. When she sees the building, I hope she’ll see apology in every stone.

  If she sees the building . . .

  Cerrie is waiting for me in St Piran’s school car park. She greets me with a wave – but my heart sinks when I see how quickly her smile fades.

  ‘What’s happening?’ I ask, leaving the car and walking over to her. ‘Is she coming?’

  Cerrie shrugs. ‘I’m so sorry, Jack. I’ve heard nothing.’

  I stare at her. ‘What has Aggie said?’

  ‘She’s keeping on trying Seren’s mobile. There isn’t anything else she can do.’

  I turn away, run a hand through my hair, trying to think. ‘What happens if she doesn’t answer at all? It’s all ready for the public launch tomorrow. I need Seren to see it.’

  ‘I wish I could tell you different, but I think Seren might have decided to be on her own tonight—’ She breaks off as her mobile rings and I spin back. ‘Hang on, Jack . . . Ag? Have you . . . ? And what did she . . . ? Oh.’ She smiles but I can tell the news she’s received isn’t what she was hoping for.

  I watch helplessly, her side of the conversation not giving me enough clues. After too long waiting, she puts her hand over the receiver.

  ‘She isn’t coming.’

  I stare at Cerrie. ‘What do you mean?’

  She looks as lost as I feel. ‘She just spoke to Aggie . . .’

  ‘Tell Aggie to persuade her.’

  ‘She can’t.’

  ‘But she just spoke to her . . .’

  ‘On the phone. I think she’s gone . . .’

  No, this can’t be happening! She has to see it today. Tomorrow is the big public launch Brotherson has planned, and after that it will be splashed across the local newspapers and TV news. It will be too late for me to show her first, to explain why I made it and who it’s really for. I hold my hand out. ‘Let me talk to Aggie.’

  ‘Jack, I don’t think it’ll do any good . . .’

  ‘Please? Just – let me have the phone.’

  She passes it to me, folds her arms and watches with concern.

  ‘Aggie? It’s Jack. What’s happening?’

  ‘Hey Jack. I’ve been callin’ and textin’ her since midday. No answer. Then she just answered. She says she’s going away for a while.’

  ‘Where has she gone?’

  I can hear Aggie’s breath in quick, rhythmic bursts against the receiver. ‘I don’t know, but she mentioned leavin’ a note for her mum. I’m headin’ over to her house now. I don’t think she can have gone far. Becca saw her about two hours ago.’

  ‘Who’s Becca?’

  ‘Owns a bar here where Seren works sometimes.’

  Yet another bi
t of Seren’s life I know nothing about. How is it possible to feel so connected to someone you hardly know? ‘Please, do whatever you can to find her. We need her to see this before everyone else. I need her to see it.’

  ‘Just tell me one thing, Jack Dixon: why? Why does it matter to you now?’

  Cerrie is watching me closely. I haven’t spoken about this out loud, but I can’t bear to miss the chance to see Seren today. Aggie is her best friend and it’s clear from the tone of her voice that she doesn’t trust me. If I stand any chance of finding Seren, I have to convince Aggie.

  ‘Because I think I’m in love with her.’

  Cerrie gasps and claps an apologetic hand to her mouth. But I can see the beginnings of a smile underneath and it gives me hope that at least one member of Seren’s close circle likes me.

  There is a long pause on the other end of the call. The footsteps have slowed. I wonder if Aggie even believes me.

  ‘You do?’

  I close my eyes, wishing I didn’t have an audience. ‘Yes, I do. I’ve been falling in love with her since we first met, before I knew she was on your committee, or leading the campaign. I just didn’t realise what was happening. It’s been a long time since I felt like that.’

  The footsteps stop. I hear seagulls in the background and a distant rumble of the sea. ‘Go on.’

  What more does she want me to say? ‘Cerrie told me about Seren making stars with me and my daughter and it all finally fell into place. What she did on the beach meant the world to us. I think I was already falling for whoever was helping us: when I knew it was Seren everything made sense.’

  Cerrie is grinning at me and her eyes have misted a little.

  ‘So what if she doesn’t feel the same?’

  I don’t even want to consider that possibility. ‘Then at least I’ll have had a chance to thank her. And make amends for winning the vote.’