Dreaming About Daran (Whitsborough BayTrilogy Book 3)

by Jessica Redland

  ‘Gary and Rob. Okay. Thank you. Could you ask them to wait a moment, please?’

  The nurse nodded, then closed the door.

  Stevie hugged Elise. ‘She’ll come soon.’

  I picked up my bag. ‘I’m sure she’ll visit soon too. Gary and Rob have perfect timing ’cos I need to get back to Leeds. I’ll try to get back over again soon.’ I blew a kiss in the direction of the incubator. ‘Bye, Melody. Hurry up and get out of that incubator so Auntie Clare can have hugs.’

  As I drove back towards Leeds, I reflected on our conversation about Sarah, and how I was more likely to pick up the phone to Elise or confide in Ben these days rather than her, despite that huge heart-to-heart we’d had. How had that happened? Had I pulled away from Sarah or had she pulled away from me? If Elise was feeling it too, surely it was the latter? But did I have the time and energy to do anything about it? No. Did that make me a useless friend? Did it mean I was taking her friendship for granted again – something I’d sworn I wouldn’t do?

  Could there be something going wrong with the shop or with her marriage already that she didn’t want to face up to? Surely not. The shop was thriving, and she and Nick were besotted with each other still, weren’t they?

  An uneasy feeling settled over me as I joined the A1 towards Leeds. I was being a useless friend. I was all wrapped up in Shannon and Luke, and full of criticism for Sarah for not being more supportive, but what if she was facing something even bigger in her life that she needed my support on?

  I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I slowed for some gobshite lorry driver to pull out and inch his way past another lorry uphill. Why did they do that? Back to Sarah, though. What could be going on in her life that was bigger than me discovering that my daughter hadn’t really died at birth, that her father had been killed in the tsunami, that she’d been in a serious car crash, and that she had a son who needed my care?

  The lorry finally pulled back in and I pressed my foot on the accelerator. Sarah had occupied enough of my thoughts. I’d make another attempt to find out what was going on, but I’d wait until next week. She knew where I was if she really needed me, didn’t she? Why should I be making all the effort?

  Chapter 33

  I have no idea where the next two weeks went. Well, actually I do. They flew by in a frenzy of hospital visits and babysitting.

  Callum’s urinary tract infection cleared up but his immune system was so low that he picked up something else (I’ve lost track of what), which wiped him out, so he was on strict bed rest and hooked up to a drip. Meanwhile, Shannon continued to improve. Dr Kaur was very impressed with her. They’d got her up and about surprisingly quickly after they’d woken her up, but she’d still had a broken ankle and arm, which meant she was limited with her movement. Five weeks after the accident, she was ready to put weight on the ankle.

  Her first steps on her damaged ankle were very tentative. Physically, I could see she was exhausted, as she clung onto the railing in the physio room. Emotionally, I could see that it was worse. I recalled the footage of her dancing and was pretty certain she was petrified she’d never be able to dance again. I didn’t know how to broach the subject, though, so I took Dr Kaur aside and asked her outright.

  ‘The fact that she’s a dancer will make her rehabilitation easier,’ she assured me. ‘Her legs will be used to hard work. Because of the accident, though, the muscles have forgotten what that feels like and they’re objecting to it. If she’s determined – and I can see that she’s that kind of woman – there’s no reason why she won’t fully recover and dance again to the same standard. The broken ankle has healed nicely because she’s had complete bed rest and she didn’t damage her legs in the accident. She just hasn’t used them for a while.’

  Shannon cried after that first intense physio session. She’d been strong in front of us but, when she was alone on the ward, the tears fell. I only knew because I realised I’d left Luke’s teddy, Philbin, on her bed so returned to get it. She wasn’t quick enough to wipe the tears away.

  ‘I know it hurt today, but it will get better,’ I said, passing her a tissue.

  ‘And you’d know because you were in a coma and woke up to discover that your legs had forgotten how to work?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re a doctor, then, are you?’

  I gazed at her and saw so much of me in her, desperate to strike out at anyone, in order to keep the pain at bay. ‘You’ll dance again,’ I said. ‘I know it.’

  Another tear slipped down her cheek. She didn’t need a pep talk from me. She needed her alone time to think.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Shannon. Don’t give up. And don’t forget that stuff about God making the valley of trouble a door of hope.’ Without waiting for her reaction, I left the ward. Callum was adamant that her faith was strong. Maybe that was what she needed to get her through this. It wasn’t my thing but if it worked for her, so be it.

  The next day, she seemed a lot more positive and apologised for snapping. It was her first apology to me. Things were looking up.

  Sure enough, a week of physio did wonders for her. By the end of the second week, Callum was up and about again, encouraging and supporting her, and the improvements were incredible.

  I visited Whitsborough Bay twice during that fortnight. The first time was an evening so I texted Sarah a couple of days before, knowing the shop would be closed. I got another garbled message back about meetings and stocktakes and Christ knows what. I didn’t bother contacting her the following week. I was going to be over there during shop opening hours, which gave me an easy excuse. To be honest, I couldn’t face a third rejection.

  Melody was doing really well, putting on weight and sleeping less. Sarah still hadn’t visited. I could see how hurt Elise was. There’d been several texts, each with a different excuse: she’d had a cold and didn’t want to pass it on to Melody; she’d had a stomach bug and couldn’t risk passing that on either; Nick had picked up the bug and she was worried about still being contagious. And so it went on. She’d posted a new baby card through their letterbox one evening but hadn’t knocked. Stevie had actually been in, and his car was on the drive, so he’d felt pretty miffed that she didn’t seem to have five minutes to say hello and ask after Melody. Elise, who always tried to see the good in everyone and every circumstance, suggested that it might not have been Sarah who’d dropped off the card, but her words lacked conviction and I could tell she felt totally let down by Sarah’s absence.

  Shannon and Callum made a decision that it wasn’t fair on Luke to spend his days cooped up in hospital, especially as that had been the reason why Callum had asked me to look after him in the first place. We therefore settled into a three-day cycle: a full day at hospital without me, then a full day at home and an accompanied evening visit, then a morning of just Callum at hospital, an afternoon with me, and another accompanied evening visit. I liked the new arrangement. It was far better for Luke to get out in the fresh air, and it was good for Shannon and Callum to get time alone with him so they could bond with their son. It also helped my relationship with Shannon. I could tell her about the places Luke and I had been. She lapped up all the minute details, like the colours of the leaves on the trees, the feel of the breeze on our cheeks, the cries of other children in the park and so on. I think she liked to imagine she was the one pushing the pram and behaving like a ‘normal’ mum.

  On the Sunday, two weeks after Shannon had started her intensive physio, I had Callum for the full day. A mild mid-March day had dawned, with blue skies and a warm sun.

  ‘It’s gorgeous out there,’ Ben said, as he washed up after breakfast and I dried the dishes. ‘Do you fancy making the most of a full day with Luke and taking a run through to Whitsborough Bay?

  ‘To see Elise?’ I asked. I clocked his frown and quickly added, ‘Or Sarah?’

  He reached for the tea towel and dried his hands
, then leaned against the sink. ‘You can tell me to mind my own business, but she’s my sister so I have to ask. What made you say “Elise” first? I thought Sarah was your best friend, yet you hardly ever mention her these days.’

  ‘She is, but I can’t work out what’s going on in Sarah World at the moment. I’ve tried to spend time with her, but she seems to be avoiding me. She’s avoiding Elise too. Don’t think she wants to be our friend anymore.’ I flinched. Even to my own ears, the reference to ‘Sarah World’ sounded extremely bitchy and the rest of the statement sounded downright childish. Clearly, Ben thought so too.

  ‘Have you tried to find out what’s going on in “Sarah World”, as you so beautifully put it?’

  I snatched the tea towel back off him and picked up a mug to dry. ‘Don’t get stroppy with me, Ben. It was just a flippant comment.’

  He folded his arms and shook his head. ‘I don’t know what’s going on between the three of you, and I don’t really want to get involved, but I also don’t want to hear any talk about you not being friends anymore. If you think my sister hasn’t been there for you, it might be because she has things going on herself, and she could easily say that you haven’t been there for her either.’

  ‘Don’t be cryptic, Ben.’

  ‘I’m not being cryptic. I’m just making a point. I know you have lots on at the moment, and so does Elise. But perhaps Sarah does too.’

  I put the mug and tea towel down and folded my arms as well. ‘Is she sick? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? I mean, properly sick, rather than just a cold?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Problems with the shop?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Problems with Nick?’

  ‘No. It’s not that either.’

  ‘Then, what is it?’

  ‘It’s… Sorry, Irish. I can’t tell you. It’s not up to me to say anything. But I really think you should—’

  But at that moment, Luke woke up and screamed. The unfinished conversation hung in the air while I brought him downstairs to feed him, doing my best to avoid eye contact with Ben as I prepared Luke’s bottle. Eventually, Ben left the room, muttering something about taking a shower, and my shoulders relaxed. Well, that had gone well!

  In true Saint Ben style, he came back downstairs 15 minutes later, apologised for interfering and for lecturing me, and insisted that we still go to Whitsborough Bay and forget the conversation had ever happened.

  ‘So, how’s Lebony?’ I asked, as I pushed the pram along the North Beach promenade after a walk around Hearnshaw Park followed by a late lunch outside a beachside café. The sun had brought everyone out. Cyclists, dog-walkers and families jostled for space along the wide pathway, and the beach was as packed as on a summer’s day. Many of the brightly coloured beach chalets had their doors wide open, with children dashing in and out brandishing buckets and spades or body boards, and parents or grandparents making lunch or lounging on deckchairs with a book, e-reader or the Sunday papers. I smiled as I took in the scene, thinking how much Shannon and Callum would love living in Whitsborough Bay. It was so perfect for families.

  ‘She’s good,’ Ben said, bending to chuck a rogue Frisbee back to a couple of teenagers on the beach. ‘She’s in France at the moment.’

  ‘France? That’s a little normal for her, isn’t it? I thought she wasn’t interested in anywhere that wasn’t famine- or disease-stricken.’

  ‘The charity she currently works for is French so she’s doing some training with them.’

  ‘Oh.’ I realised I wasn’t really interested in hearing more about Lebony. I still hadn’t met her, but I’d heard a lot about her from Sarah over the years. Sarah didn’t like her because she never seemed to have time for Ben, even when she was in the UK. Visiting him was like an afterthought. Sarah said she was too nice, too perfect and too passionate about changing the world, without being aware of the impact she had on those she left at home. I was inclined to agree and found myself disliking her too. And then I’d feel like a right bitch for thinking that because we needed people like Lebony. So much was wrong with the world and I was full of admiration for anyone who felt compelled to do something about it; something more than making the occasional charitable donation. I guess, in that way, she was a lot like Daran. I just wished she’d either end it with Ben or spend a little more time with him. He made out that he didn’t mind, but he always got a sad, distant look in his eyes when her name came up.

  ‘You’re imagining living here, aren’t you?’ Ben said.

  I smiled. ‘Is it that obvious?’

  ‘I see the way your eyes are darting about everywhere, as if you’re seeing the place for the first time and sussing it out.’

  I indicated that we should sit on a bench that had just that second been vacated. I lifted Luke out of his buggy so he could see what was going on. ‘I laughed when Sarah moved back here,’ I said. ‘I couldn’t understand why someone who’d lived in Manchester, then London, could possibly want to move back to a small town by the sea. When I first visited, I was pleasantly surprised. It was very Sarah, but it wasn’t me. I still wanted my bright lights, big city. When I got the promotion at Prime, Sarah suggested I live here, and I laughed at her again. On a practical note, it would take too long to drive to my main clients from the coast, but I couldn’t imagine myself living here either.’

  ‘And you can now?’

  ‘I think so. I thought I liked being surrounded by designer clothes shops, nice restaurants and trendy bars, but I prefer a night out at your local Indian, or a night in with a takeaway and a film. My expensive wardrobe suddenly seems impractical and uncomfortable, and I’d rather go shopping for clothes for Luke than anything for me. I think this young man might have completely changed me, in more ways than my wardrobe choices.’ I pointed to my outfit: charcoal leggings, grey Uggs, a burgundy tunic top, nipped in at the waist, and a sparkly, silver scarf.

  ‘I like the outfit, by the way,’ Ben said. ‘I like your new wardrobe style a lot. I actually think it’s more the real you, not that you didn’t look amazing in your old outfit choices.’

  ‘It feels more like the real me. I used to dress like this when I was younger, before I was kicked out. I consciously changed my clothes and cut my hair to separate myself from the past. I guess the real me couldn’t really disappear.’

  ‘And the real you is a small-town girl at heart? I actually think you started to change last year, before you knew about Shannon or Luke. When you lived with me first time around, I’d offer to go out to bars and restaurants, and you were always keener to stay in or go local.’

  I thought for a moment. ‘You could be right. I hadn’t—’

  My phone began ringing, cutting me off. ‘I pulled it out of my jacket pocket. ‘It’s Aisling. Do you mind…?’

  ‘Be my guest.’ Ben reached for Luke as I connected the call.

  ‘Hi, Ash, how’s it going?’

  ‘Not good. I’m sorry to do this over the phone, but Da’s had a heart attack. A serious one.’

  The squeals of children and the squawks of seagulls, which had been so loud moments ago, seemed to mute. The scene before me on the promenade and the beach paled and blurred as I fought to form the words. ‘He’s dead?’

  ‘Not yet, but it’s not looking good. He’s asking for you, Clare. I know you owe him nothing but—’

  ‘I’ll be there. Bollocks. I’m in Whitsborough Bay now. I might not get back in time for a flight tonight, but I’ll get there as soon as I can. Do you think he’ll…’

  ‘I don’t know, Clare. He’s really sick.’

  Chapter 34

  I spotted Aisling as soon as I made it through arrivals the following morning, clutching a small suitcase. I hadn’t a clue how long I’d be staying. I probably should have packed more clothes, but it would have to do.

  Aisling looked exhausted. ‘Am I pleased to see you,
’ she said, holding me tightly. ‘Ma’s driving me crazy. If she doesn’t calm down, she’ll take a heart attack herself, so she will.’

  I followed her out to her car. ‘So, what happened?’ I asked, as we pulled out of the car park.

  ‘It’s been building up for ages. The man’s a bloody eejit. He’s been in a right state since your trip home, spouting on about sinners and repentance. The kids don’t see much of Ma and Da. They say the house smells funny and they’re scared of Ma, but I subject them to a visit every couple of months. We saw them the weekend after you were here and Da commented on how much Briyana had grown since Christmas. She responded by asking him if he thought she’d grow up to be as tall and beautiful as her Auntie Clare.’

  ‘Shite. I bet he hit the roof.’

  ‘Ma spilled her cup of tea all over the carpet. Da turned purple and suggested we’d probably been there long enough. The poor kids could hear the yelling as we got back into the car. They hadn’t a clue what was going on, and I couldn’t think of a way to explain his behaviour off the top of my head. I made up some fib about him not feeling well and being angry that he felt so unwell that he couldn’t enjoy their visit. I visited again a couple of weeks ago without the kids and told them we’d all seen you over the school holidays. I wanted them to get over it before the kids saw them again, and I didn’t want to risk one of them mentioning anything about Shannon or Luke. I wasn’t sure if you wanted him to know your news.’

  ‘I don’t, so thanks for doing that. Was he purple again?’

  She concentrated on the traffic for a moment as she guided the car out of the airport and towards Cork. ‘I actually thought he was going to keel over clutching his heart at any moment. His mouth kept opening and closing, and no words came out. Ma called me a few choice words and threw me out. I hadn’t seen or spoken to them since. Well, until I got the call about Da, that is.’

  ‘Jesus Christ! I’m so sorry, Aisling. That sounds hideous.’