‘I’m sorry, Ned. So sorry.’ I step towards him, but he holds up a hand.
‘I don’t want your husband seeing us hug and come round to bloody my nose. I’m a lover, not a fighter.’
‘Chris isn’t like that.’
‘Sometimes people aren’t quite what they seem,’ he says pointedly.
‘You’ve been so kind to me, Ned.’ There’s a ball of emotion lodged in my throat. ‘You coaxed me out of my shell at a time when I really felt that I never wanted to speak to anyone ever again. Our night at the festival gave me back something that I thought I’d lost.’
He looks at me sadly. ‘For what it’s worth, I enjoyed it too. And this sounds like hippy-shizzle, but I felt we connected on a level that I hadn’t experienced before.’
‘We did,’ I say with hope.
‘You need to fix whatever’s broken with your husband,’ he says, flatly. ‘My advice is to go home, make your marriage work.’
He makes it sounds so easy. But what do I do? It’s clear that Ned doesn’t want me to stay here now and I don’t know if I want to return home. I’m in limbo, purgatory, stuck here between heaven and hell on earth, not knowing which way to turn.
Chapter Sixty-Two
‘I’ll say goodbye, then.’ I hold out my hand to shake Ned’s.
‘We can’t do that,’ he says. ‘Not now that I know what you look like naked.’
That breaks the ice and we both manage a weak laugh.
‘Come here.’ Ned pulls me towards him. ‘I just hope your husband isn’t the jealous type.’
‘He’s a good man,’ I tell him. ‘Mostly. I don’t know if we have a future together.’
‘Only you can decide that.’ Ned holds me tightly and I cling to him, wanting to stay in the circle of his arms. I feel such comfort, such warmth, such strength from him. If Ned asked me to stay now would I abandon everything and try to make a new life here? I don’t know. My brain’s too mashed to be able to consider the implications.
‘You’re going back to the mainland?’ he asks.
‘No. I don’t know. Probably. Yes.’
Ned grins. ‘I’m glad that you’re clear about that.’
‘My head’s all over the place. I can’t run away for ever, I suppose. For one thing, I have a job to go back to.’ And a husband.
‘I hope you resolve your problems,’ Ned says. ‘A quiet life is a good life.’
‘Thank you for showing me that. I’ll try to do some yoga when I’m back in London.’ I attempt a smile but, inside, it feels as if a little bit of my already-battered heart is breaking. I feel too fragile to deal with this as well. ‘It’ll probably be inside some air-conditioned industrial unit rather than on this beautiful beach.’
‘You’ll be OK.’ He holds me away from him. ‘You’re stronger than you think.’
I’m not sure if he’s right about that or not. Only time will tell.
‘I should go and say goodbye to Ida too.’
‘Tell her I’ll see her in a while,’ Ned says. ‘I’ll bring my tool-kit.’
I nod.
Call me foolish, but I’d imagined leaving all my problems behind me and staying here for the rest of the summer with Ned. Maybe my heart would have started to heal by then. Perhaps Ned and I could have made some kind of relationship together. Chris could have declared his undying love for his new lady and I could feel less guilty than I do now.
But none of it is to be. Life, I’ve discovered, is never as straightforward as we hope.
‘Goodbye, Ned,’ I say again. ‘Introduce yourself to my brother, Bill, if he ever manages to come here. You and he would like each other.’
‘Take care of yourself, Jodie. It’s been nice knowing you.’
‘Yeah.’ I turn away and walk down the beach. Tears roll down my face and I swipe them away with my hands, but I make myself march on.
Chapter Sixty-Three
I think Ida is cross with me too. But she seems to be cross with everyone and the world in general.
The café has only just opened and, as yet, there are no other customers. Which is just as well as Ida’s still clearing up after the break-in. She’s currently wielding her broom in a ferocious manner, sweeping broken glass and crockery from the deck and cursing under her breath as she does.
As I step up from the beach, she spins round. When she sees that it’s me, she relaxes slightly and pauses to lean on her broom.
‘Bastards,’ she says by way of greeting. ‘Look at the frigging mess they’ve made. If I catch hold of them, I’ll string them all up by their bollocks. How can you live in a place as beautiful as this and still want to destroy it?’
‘I’m sorry, Ida. This is awful. Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘No. I’ve got it.’ Her hair is tied up in some kind of top-knot with bits sticking out everywhere, the remnants of her festival ribbons still entwined. She rubs her neck. ‘I’ve still got the red mist in front of my eyes,’ she admits. ‘I feel the urge to hurt someone. Badly. I work bloody hard. I don’t deserve this.’
‘No. It’s dreadful.’
‘We had to fish most of the chairs out of the sea yesterday. At least the tide hadn’t carried them away. Some little shit had painted “COCK” in massive capitals on the hut, but I covered that yesterday with a fresh coat. I’ll bloody well “cock” him if I catch hold of him.’
‘You got the window and door fixed?’ Looking at them you wouldn’t tell that anything had happened.
‘Yeah. I know a good local company. They came out yesterday. Charged me handsomely, though.’
‘Will your insurance cover it?’
‘I think so,’ she says. ‘You can never be sure these days. They’ll probably make me beef up my security. CCTV cameras and the like. More expense.’
‘Ned says he’ll swing by later and bring his tool box.’
She looks at me sharply. ‘You were with him this morning?’
‘He’s on the beach doing his yoga. I just bumped into him.’
‘Oh.’ She returns to her sweeping, but is less determined with it. ‘You had a good time at the festival?’
‘Yes. It was great fun.’
‘Did you and Ned get it together?’ she asks more frankly than I’d like. It’s not that easy to dodge a question like that, but I had expected it from Ida. Perhaps She realised all along what would happen between me and Ned when she left us alone.
‘I don’t really want to talk about it, Ida.’
‘So you did.’ She shrugs. ‘I can tell when he’s got that glint in his eye. I’ve seen it a million times before. It won’t last, but enjoy it for the summer.’
I’ll never know whether Ida is right or not. From what I’ve seen of Ned, he doesn’t seem to be the lothario she’s making him out to be. Perhaps he was in his youth, but then we were all young and reckless once.
‘I’m not staying,’ I explain. ‘I’m heading back to the mainland. I’ve really come to say goodbye.’
Ida looks taken aback. ‘What’s brought this on?’
‘I’d rather not talk about that either. It’s complicated.’ She’ll find out soon enough, from someone – probably Ned – that my husband turned up unannounced. Maybe they’ll share a bottle of wine – or more – and laugh at my discomfort. I hope not, but you never can tell.
‘Bugger,’ she says. ‘I thought you were going to become a permanent fixture.’
‘Seems not.’ I risk a smile at her. ‘I wouldn’t mind a last cup of tea before I go, if you’ve got the necessary . . . ’
‘I have. Can’t offer you coffee – only instant. Bastards nicked my fancy-dancy machine.’
‘Tea will be fine. I can finish sweeping for you while you make it?’
‘OK.’ She hands over her broom and I take up where she left off. Ida disappears inside the hut. I sweep the shards of glass and china into a dustpan, then tip the mess into a black sack.
A few minutes later, Ida returns with a tray of tea and I take my favourite seat in the
shelter of the wall. I look out to sea, drinking in the view. The cove looks pretty in the morning light, more like somewhere on the Mediterranean. The gentle waves lap at the rocks as the tide edges its way back in.
‘They smashed a load of crockery,’ she complains, nodding at another couple of sacks by the hut. ‘But I’ve got enough to be going on with until I can get a delivery.’
‘Will it affect business?’
‘We had to close yesterday and that hurt. The weekends are my busiest days. But we should be able to manage.’
‘That’s good to hear.’ I pour my tea. ‘Thanks, Ida. Won’t you take a minute to join me?’
‘Nah. I’m too wound up to sit down. I’ve got stuff to do.’
So she stomps away and I nurse the cup to me, warming my cold hands. Another customer arrives and Ida serves him. I keep hoping that Ned will change his mind and appear, but he doesn’t.
As I’m finishing my tea, my phone rings and I wonder if Chris has woken up and found me gone. He’ll be worried if he has. But the screen says that it’s Della.
‘Hey,’ I say when I pick up.
‘Chummie! Where the fuck are you?’
‘Still on the Isle of Wight,’ I tell her.
‘Are you coming back any time soon?’
‘Yes,’ I say.
‘Well, bloody hurrah for that!’
I might be feeling sad to leave, but Della has the knack of making me smile.
‘We can hit the gym again. And the bars. Maybe the bars more than the gym.’
I force myself to laugh. ‘Sounds like a plan.’
‘Have you seen Chris?’ she says and I can hear something strange in her voice.
‘Yes, I have, and I’ve got a bone to pick with you. He turned up at the houseboat last night. I believe it was you who told him I was here.’
‘Guilty as charged. You need to sort this out, Jodie. Neither of you can go on like this.’
‘I know. Part of me would like to stay here and avoid it for ever, but I know that’s not fair. Though it’s largely down to Chris whether I come back or not.’
‘What did he say?’
‘Not much. We haven’t really discussed our options yet, but I get the impression that he wants me to come home.’
‘You have to be sure,’ she says. ‘It’s hard to pick up the pieces.’
But isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when you’re married? Should I try again or should I stay here and send Chris packing? To be honest, I don’t know if I’m coming or going.
I hear Della clear her throat. ‘So did you sleep together?’
‘In the same bed, but that’s all. Even that seemed weird. It’s a long time since we were . . . together . . . like that and there’s too much distance between us. I don’t know if he’s still seeing another woman. He denied there was anyone else, but I don’t know if he’s telling the truth.’
‘I’m sure you’re imagining it,’ Della says and she sounds very convinced that she knows best.
‘I don’t know. Maybe you’re right.’ Is it simply a sign of how I feel about Chris that I can believe that of him? Perhaps he has been working late as often as he’s said and it is all in my head.
I’m not going to confide in Della that I’ve spent the night with Ned. She’s my best friend, but I owe it to Chris to tell him first if we decide to put all our cards on the table. Besides, it’s not something that I want to gossip about. Della will be scandalised and we’ll, no doubt, have a good giggle about it, but I don’t want that. What I had with Ned was special and I can’t share it. Not even with my best friend.
‘I’d better go,’ I tell her. ‘I’m currently in a beach café having cuppa. Chris will be wondering where I am.’
‘Lucky you,’ she says. ‘Think of me with my nose to the grindstone. And keep me posted with where you’re up to. I need to see you as soon as you’re back. I miss you, Chummie.’
‘Miss you too,’ I say and then we both hang up.
So that’s it. Looks as if I have one foot here and one foot already on its way home.
I take my cup to the hut where Ida is banging around inside, still in a crotchety mood.
‘Can I have a coffee to take away for George? I should say farewell to my favourite statue.’ I’m hoping that he’ll already be on duty.
‘I don’t even know if he likes instant coffee,’ she grumbles. But she makes him one, anyway, and hands it over.
‘I’ll be off then,’ I say when I’ve paid. ‘It’s been really nice meeting you, Ida.’
She puts her hands on her hips. ‘So that’s it? You come into our lives, make Ned fall in love with you and then sod off again?’
‘I hadn’t quite planned it like that,’ I admit. ‘But this was always going to be a temporary arrangement until I got my head together.’
‘And have you done that?’
‘No,’ I confess with a laugh. ‘I’m sure you over-estimate Ned’s feelings for me. He’s just been very kind while I’ve been here.’
‘I know Ned better than you do. Much better. I’d like to believe otherwise, but I think he’s fallen hook, line and sinker. I know I said he’s a player and he was, once, but he’s not like that now. He’ll be gutted that you’re leaving.’
I realise that Ida still doesn’t know about the small matter of my husband and how I’ve disappointed Ned. Well, all in good time. She’ll find out soon enough. I can’t bring myself to tell her about my deception, that I’ve burned my bridges with Ned, when it had all been without intent to cause harm.
‘I’ve been jealous of you,’ she says. ‘I can’t deny it. But I’ve never seen Ned’s eyes light up for me the way they do when he looks at you.’
This is all too difficult to hear. I don’t want to cause any more pain than I already have.
Ida comes out of the hut and hugs me. She smells of patchouli oil and seaside. We might not have been the best of friends, but we could have been, and I’ll miss her.
‘I’ve got used to you being around. Come back for a holiday,’ she says. ‘Soon.’
‘I will,’ I promise. But, somehow, I don’t think that’s going to happen.
Chapter Sixty-Four
I walk along the seafront and think that I’ll be sad to leave this place. I’ll miss the endless sky, the sand beneath my feet, the tang of seaweed in the air, the gentle pace of life.
Sure enough, as I approach the Esplanade George is standing there on his plinth, arms stretched out to the sea. He can’t earn much, if anything, at this time of day, but here he is as I’d expected.
He jumps down when he sees me and beams, showing his white teeth in his bronze face. ‘Hey.’
‘Hi, George.’
He rolls his shoulders. ‘Sometimes I forget that it’s better to do poses where I don’t have to hold my arms up.’
‘I’m sure you could move when no one’s looking.’ There are actually a decent number of joggers, dog walkers and early morning strollers already out, but I don’t think they’d mind.
‘And break the living statue code?’ he teases.
I laugh and hand over his tea. ‘Ida got broken into at the weekend and her fancy coffee machine was nicked. That’s instant. White, no sugar.’
‘Thanks.’ He wrinkles his nose as he tastes it, but drinks it anyway. ‘Is she OK?’
‘She’s angry more than anything,’ I tell him. ‘The damage isn’t as bad as it might have been.’
‘I’ll pop along later,’ he says. ‘When I’ve dumped this lot and I’ve scrubbed up. See if I can help.’
‘I’m sure she’ll appreciate it. How did it go at the festival? You looked to be very popular.’
‘It was a good vibe,’ he agrees. ‘I felt I got my statuing mojo back. The new costume helped. I needed a new lick of paint.’ He runs his hands over his coat, proudly. ‘Did you enjoy it too?’
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘I did.’ Too much, I think.
‘Sorry I didn’t find you later, but I got in with a good crowd in the even
ing and time ran away with me.’
‘As long as you were having fun.’
‘Yeah, there were some great bands on. Besides, it looked as if you and Ned could manage without my company.’ He gives me a statue-style wink.
‘It was that obvious?’
‘Not that it’s my business, but are you and he an item, then?’
‘No,’ I say sadly. There was a moment when I thought we might have been, but I’ve blown it. Though I can’t say that out loud. ‘I’ve actually come to say goodbye. I’m heading home today.’
‘You’re going back to London? So soon? I thought you were going to stick around, at least for the summer.’
‘So did I, but something came up.’
He looks as crestfallen as a statue can. ‘I’ll miss our chats.’
‘Me too. I’ve nearly finished the book. I’ve really enjoyed it. I hope it goes well.’
‘I haven’t heard anything,’ he says with a shrug that aims at nonchalance but fails. ‘But I’ve not given up hope just yet.’
‘Keep at it,’ I advise. ‘We all deserve our dream.’
‘Sometimes your dreams come true and sometime you have to change what your dreams are. I know that already.’
And he’s right, of course. My dreams, such as they are, seem to be ever-elusive.
While I’m musing on it, a dog walker passes by and George freezes into position, cup of coffee in hand. I do the same. The man smiles at us and tosses a coin into his box. We both laugh once he’s gone.
‘The start of a new career,’ George says.
‘I’ve got a job waiting for me.’ And a husband and a brother.
We sit for a moment together and enjoy the view in silence. I take in the vast, unbroken blueness of the sky and I wonder how I’ll manage with the little glimpses I get of it in London. Little boats bob about on the ocean. A couple of hardy people swim at the edge of the sea. It’ll be freezing in there, but still I envy them.
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