“You heard her,” cried Lily. “She said they’re over...and if it’s Ned you’re bothered about well I’m sure he’d soon get used to the idea.”
Tom raised his eyebrows. “And do you really believe that?”
“Well it might take him a little time I guess...but I’m sure Mum and Dad wouldn’t mind.”
“Lily Roberts,” Tom told her with an exasperated sigh. “You have to put any crazy ideas you may have about me and Ali out of your head right now. There are way too many complications for us to try to even be friends, let alone anything more...”
Tom thought about their conversation as he headed back toward Cove Cottages half an hour later. Could he and Ali ever get far enough past Bobby’s tragedy to one day become friends? he wondered. An image of her face popped unbidden into his mind; the idea appealed to him. After all, they’d got on well enough once, he remembered, his mind going back to those early days when she stayed at the pub and they talked and talked about everything from fishing to life. Besides, bearing grudges wasn’t in his nature. He increased his pace. But what would be the point? As he’d told Lily, she’d probably make it up with her husband soon and be off again. No, getting close to Ali would bring only regret. Keeping his distance was the wisest thing to do.
A warm yellow light shone from her front window and a sliver of smoke curled up from the chimney into the rapidly darkening sky. He’d just walk by, he decided; with a bit of luck she wouldn’t see him.
But as he hurried past her door she called out to him. “Tom...! Don’t forget your cake.”
“Sorry,” warmth flooded his face as he turned to face her. “I forgot all about it.”
“No matter,” she said, holding back the door. “Come on in, I’ll get it for you.”
Tom’s eyes were irresistibly drawn to her as she removed the cake from its tin and lifted it carefully onto a plate. She moved so easily, like flowing liquid, and her shoulder-length blond-streaked hair shone with the warmth of honey, matching her eyes. Looking up she met his gaze with a smile. “Would you like to eat it here?” she asked. “I can brew a pot of tea...or maybe you fishermen prefer coffee.”
“No...thanks.” He sat down awkwardly on the chair she pulled out for him. The way he reacted to her felt wrong, awkward. Bobby’s death was still too raw, and although he didn’t really blame her, as Ned did, he felt a sense of guilt at being here with the woman his brother had been in love with. “I really need to get going,” he said abruptly. “I can’t stay long.”
“I know, I’m sure you must have loads to do and I don’t want to intrude. I just need to talk to you.”
Tom stood, pushing back his chair. “I really don’t have time,” he began.
She placed her hand on his shoulder and he felt the warmth of it through his jacket. “Please,” she said. “It’ll only take a minute.”
“I’m not really much of a talker I’m afraid...”
“Then just listen,” Ali suggested. “If I don’t say this now then I may never get the chance again.”
Tom frowned, feeling awkward. “Okay then,” he said reluctantly, not wanting to get into anything heavy right now. “If you must... Don’t take too long though.”
Ali took a deep breath then hesitated, and for a moment Tom thought she’d changed her mind. When she did start talking, to his surprise it was all about Bobby and how she met him at a charity do with her husband.
“Jake was his tutor,” she said, with a tremble in her voice. “He was busy organizing things and Bobby and I sat and talked. He made me laugh so much that night but I never thought of him as anything other than just a boy, you know. He was a friend, that’s all, when I needed one. A good friend who supported me in my grief over Dad’s death. The fact that he was a fisherman brought us closer, too, I suppose—in fact he was the one who first gave me the idea of writing an article about fishing...for Dad. It was his kindness that prompted him to suggest that I stay at your parents’ pub... Bobby was warmhearted and good. He really cared about people and when he realized that things had gone wrong between me and Jake he wanted to help.”
For a moment Ali went quiet, as if trying to collect her thoughts. Tom wanted to ask her what went wrong with her marriage but he kept his question to himself. She looked so sad and vulnerable that a part of him wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that everything was going to be okay...the other part wanted to walk away.
“When Bobby suggested that I come here it seemed like a godsend,” she eventually went on. “Time to breathe and contemplate my life was just what I needed, and there was also the opportunity to research fishing and fishermen, for the article I wanted to write...”
“It wasn’t a godsend for Bobby though was it,” Tom blurted out, suddenly angry.
“Oh Tom,” Ali cried, dropping her face into her hands. Her voice came out muffled from behind her fingers. “I am so, so sorry and I wouldn’t blame you if you said you hated me. I should have listened when you warned me not to go on the fishing trip...and I should have stayed inside as you told me to and not been so foolish as to go out into the storm to spread my dad’s ashes. It was all my fault and I’ve so wanted to apologize. Please don’t hate me.”
Reaching across the short distance between them he pressed his knuckles gently against her damp cheek. “I could never hate you,” he said. “Accidents happen every day and what happened to Bob was a devastating tragedy. It can’t be undone though and all we can do now is to try and find a way to live with what’s happened and move on...and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry your marriage didn’t work out...he’s a fool.”
“No,” Ali said, looking up with a ghost of a smile, “...not really a fool, just a double-crossing, two-timing loser.”
“Well he’s certainly a loser,” Tom agreed.
“So do you mind if I stay around here for a while?”
“It’s hardly up to me is it?”
To his surprise she took hold of his sleeve. “Walk along the beach with me a little way...please. I love to watch the moon rise over the bay and the sky’s amazing tonight.”
He wanted to say no...it wasn’t wise...it was too soon. “Better get your coat,” he suggested. “It may be beautiful but it’s bitter out.”
They walked in silence; hands plunged deep into their pockets for warmth as they took in the awesome scene in front of them. The sky, dark navy blue shot with silver and gray...and the sea, still a warm rosy hue from the evening sun that had just slipped out of sight. They paused in unison, drawn together by the magic that surrounded them, their bodies close but not quite touching.
She glanced up at him and her eyes seemed to melt into his, honey-warm and so, so, deep. “I’m sorry, Tom—” she murmured “—about everything.”
His response was to hold out his arms, and when she stepped into them it felt so right...until the memories burst in; Bobby calling her name...giving his life to try and save hers.
“I have to go,” he said, stepping abruptly away from her. “You need to sort out your life and decide what you want and I have to get my head straight.”
“Can I talk to you at least?” Ali pleaded.
He hesitated. “About what?”
“Oh I don’t know,” she cried. “I feel like everything’s such a mess and it’s my fault...and then there’s Jake.”
“Your husband you mean?”
She nodded. “He cheated on me. Bobby never admitted it but I think he only suggested I come to Jenny Brown’s Bay because he felt sorry for me—it seems all Jake’s students knew that he and one of the other tutors were having an affair, everyone was talking about it. I felt such a fool.”
“So why did you go back to him?” Tom asked.
Ali glanced up at him in surprise. “I didn’t go back to him... I almost did, I admit that, because I still believe in the sanctity of marriage and the vows I took...in the end though I walked away.
” She looked at him, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight with unshed tears. “Perhaps that makes me a coward,” she said quietly. “To walk away so easily from my responsibilities.”
“Look...” On a sudden impulse Tom reached out to grip her forearm, still keeping a distance between them. “One thing I do know is that you are no coward. Look how you came to Bobby’s funeral even though you thought that no one wanted you there.”
“I almost didn’t come,” she admitted. “I almost just got into my car and drove away.”
“But you didn’t drive away and almost doesn’t count.”
“Thanks,” she said simply.
“Just one more thing, Ali,” Tom said as they started walking toward the cottages again, the warm lights glowing out into the soft darkness of the evening. “One thing I’d just like to clarify.”
“Yes?” Ali sounded apprehensive.
“Did it ever occur to you that Bobby may have been in love with you?”
She stopped in her tracks. “Bobby! With me? But he was just a boy.”
“He was a man, Ali, very much a man.”
“That’s why Ned hates me so much,” she said as the truth began to dawn, then she stopped in her tracks, looking at Tom. “So do you hate me, too?”
The pale light of the moon revealed the uncertainty that flickered on her face. “I was angry with you,” he admitted. “But I could never hate you. You were just naïve, I suppose, and maybe a little selfish.”
“I was a fool,” she cut in, holding Tom’s gaze, almost daring him to question her admission. “A stupid, selfish fool who thought of nothing but her own problems... That’s why Bobby jumped in to try and save me, isn’t it, because of how he felt about me? That’s why he died...”
An awareness of the painful truth burned between them as he held her gaze. “It was an accident, Ali,” he said quietly. “Caused by bizarre circumstances and maybe mistakes...but isn’t that how all accidents occur?”
“We can never be friends, Tom, can we?” she asked, her voice breaking. “If you’re right and your brother died for me, I should just walk away right now and never come back?”
“No!” His objection was instant, from the heart. “Only a coward would run away from this...like I said, it was a terrible accident and we need time, time to heal and accept what’s happened. Just be honest with yourself, Ali. Be honest with everyone and one day...one day who knows what might happen.”
Reaching out she took hold of his hands. “What do you mean, Tom?” she asked hopefully. “What might happen?”
He shrugged, allowing his fingers to rest in hers. “Only time will tell us that.”
“Oh Tom, I’m so, so sorry,” she said, releasing her hold.
He allowed his hands to fall back against his sides, clenching his fingers into fists. “It was an accident,” he repeated. “A collection of circumstances that went tragically wrong, but it’s done now. Bobby’s gone and we all have to live with that, perhaps you more than anyone.”
He watched her as she headed back toward her cottage without another word, a huge weight of regret in his heart.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ALI THRASHED AND turned in her bed unable to sleep, plagued by what was now so obvious to her. She’d been such a selfish fool. What must Tom really think of her, what must everyone think of her? That she’d led poor Bobby on for her own ends. In her mind it hadn’t been like that. She hadn’t realized how he felt about her; at least Tom had seemed to believe her when she’d told him she really didn’t know, but still it made her seem totally self-absorbed. So absorbed by her own problems that she hadn’t given anyone else’s a thought.
Small unnoticed incidents came into her mind. Bobby grabbing her hand with an impish smile and holding it tight as they walked together, swinging it back and forth; Bobby, giving her a hug when she was down...and paying her teasing compliments that made her laugh. It all suddenly made sense.
As her eyes finally started to droop she felt Tom’s arms again, holding her close, keeping her safe; a sob rose inside her... If only things had been different. But things weren’t different, were they, she thought as her eyes burst back open and reality rushed in, and why should Tom Roberts want to keep her safe? Feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to help anyone, she had to be strong and put others first, starting with the book that Jason had suggested she write, a book to celebrate Bobby’s life...a fisherman’s life.
Running down the narrow stairs in her dressing gown she sat at the kitchen table and opened her laptop. The clock on the wall struck 2:00 a.m. but she ignored it as she read through the notes she’d done. Bobby’s voice was everywhere, cracking jokes, singing in the pub, working on The Sea Hawk with Tom. He’d taught her how to bait hooks, what the best bait was to catch each type of fish, which equipment was required and how you should look after it. She’d typed out all the information in note form to sort out later.
And Tom was in there, too, telling her about his craft with a passion he couldn’t withhold, so much material and so much emotion that it really could fill a book. And that, she decided, was what it would be...not the article she’d first intended but a book and she’d call it... She closed her eyes, concentrating; A Fisherboy’s Tale, that’s it. It would be fiction, but based on fact, an adventure story that would inspire a passion for the sea and a love of fishing in any young lad, and it would be dedicated to Bobby Roberts. She couldn’t wait to start.
* * *
BY SIX THIRTY Ali had finished the first chapter. Stretching her arms above her head she yawned, switching off her computer. It was time to get some sleep; and as she snuggled up beneath her duvet, closing her eyes against the world as dawn filtered in through her window, she felt a kind of peace slip over her; she was finally doing something positive, something she could lose herself in to forget all the heartache.
* * *
TOM WAS VERY much awake and ready for the fishing trip he, Ned and their dad had planned. He pulled his jacket more closely around his shoulders against the winter’s chill as he headed out into the pale early morning light, glancing up at the noisy, hungry gulls that were already circling in the sky above. As he passed by Ali’s cottage he slowed his steps, thinking about their conversation the night before and wishing things were different. In another time and another place he and Ali could have...what...been friends, or was it more than that?
He was attracted to her, he couldn’t deny that, and he also felt protective of her. Despite what had happened, or perhaps because of it, she seemed vulnerable and very alone and he was sure she’d told him the truth about her feelings for Bobby. Ned was wrong about them. Last night she’d seemed so open and honest. Obviously she was the kind of person who acted on impulse but perhaps that was one of the very things about her that appealed to him. He thought everything through so carefully that her spontaneity was like a breath of fresh air.
He looked determinedly ahead. Whatever it was about her that drew him, he had to get past it. There was too much heartache and history between them now, too much blame and regret for them ever to be more than casual friends, and at the moment they weren’t really even that.
Sometimes he wished he was more like his sister, Lily; for her life was not so complicated. She took people at face value, listened to what they said and interpreted it in her own openhearted way. Their mother always said that because nature had let Lily down in some departments it had given her other, special, senses to compensate; Lily believed wholeheartedly in Ali and she’d already told him that she was going to make it her personal challenge to help them get together. As usual, thinking of his sister brought a smile to Tom’s face.
* * *
“THERE’S FOUR NOW, MUM,” Lily called through to the kitchen. “And all the pups seem really healthy.”
Grace Roberts appeared in the doorway; her round face flushed from the stove. “Don’t you think you’d better ring
Tom?” she said. “After all, Pip is really his dog.”
Hearing her name the little white terrier with one brown patch over her eye wriggled her whole body while still eagerly licking her pups.
“Look how pleased she is with herself,” Lily cried with delight. “And Tom’s gone out fishing so I’ll wait until he comes back to tell him he’s a grandad.”
Grace threw her hands in the air with a burst of the ready laughter that had been so rare of late. “Does that mean I’m a great-grandma then?”
“I guess so,” Lily said, smiling. “And, Mum...”
“Yes?”
“It’s good to hear you laughing again.”
* * *
AFTER A SUCCESSFUL day’s fishing Tom was just about to head homeward when his phone jangled in his pocket. “Hi, Lily,” he said. “What’s up?”
“It’s Pip,” cried his sister, her voice high-pitched with excitement. “She’s had four pups. You have to come and see them.”
“Wow, I didn’t think she was due for a couple of days yet. Thanks for looking after her Lil, I’ll be round shortly...and she’s okay?”
“She’s a great mum and she’s so proud of herself.”
Tom strode eagerly toward the village and The Fisherman’s Inn. Pip might technically be his dog, but after he moved into his cottage she’d kept going back to the pub, so he’d let Lily look after her there, and although Pip was always excited to see him there was no doubt about where she thought she belonged. She loved to wander around the bar, searching for scraps and charming the patrons. At first her defection had hurt, but he’d come to realize that his cottage was way too quiet for her and she just loved being in the pub.
As soon as he walked in through the door of the back kitchen where her whelping box was, Pip wagged her tail when she saw him, proudly nudging her puppies. “You clever girl,” he told her, crouching down to scratch the backs of her ears.
“Aren’t they just gorgeous,” sighed Lily, “Especially the one with the freckles and a brown patch over its eye.”
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