Owen patted my hand. ‘You are. I know you are. You need to believe in yourself more. Do you want to leave immediately?’
‘No.’ I shook my head vigorously. ‘That’s not fair on you and it’s not necessary either. I’ve got my stuff to pack and things to sort out. Plus, it’s half term and I’m certainly not going to leave you short this week. My contract says four weeks’ notice but I’m owed some holiday. If there’s any chance I could do two weeks’ notice, or even three, I’d be so grateful.’
He picked up a desk calendar and flicked between October and November, making funny shapes with his mouth. ‘What about working until the 29th?’
‘Of November? But that’s longer than four weeks.’
Owen laughed. ‘Of October, of course.’
‘But that’s the end of this week.’
He nodded. ‘That’s correct.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Jemma Browne, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to the Past Lives Museum, and I’m devastated to be letting you go, but members of staff – even ones as amazing as you – can be replaced. Family can’t be. Your family need you and you should be with them. Selfishly I also need you for half term so I’d appreciate you doing this week but I’m only asking because you said you have things to do. If you’d needed to leave immediately, we’d have managed. How does finishing on Friday sound?’
‘You’re sure? Thank you, Owen. I’ll stay late all week to finish off anything you need me to.’
‘You’ll do no such thing. This letting you off with only one week’s notice comes with conditions. One: You’ll work your normal hours and get your stuff packed and your life in order on the evenings. Two: You’ll stay in touch. Three: You’ll invite me to Whitsborough Bay to check out Bear With Me. I’ve heard loads about the place and I need to see it for myself. Four: You come to visit us if you’re ever in London. Do we have a deal?’
‘Yes, Boss. We have a deal.’
‘Actually, I have one more condition. As you know, here at Past Lives Museum we pride ourselves on only displaying exquisitely made bears by extremely talented craftspeople from the past. We haven’t specifically defined what the past means and as the museum will be in your past, my fifth condition is a commission for you to make two of your Ju-Sea Jem Bears. One is for my personal collection and one is to be displayed pride of place in the museum. I will pay for them, of course, and I don’t expect them immediately as you have enough to deal with. Perhaps I can visit Whitsborough Bay at some point in the New Year and collect them personally?’
I felt my lip wobble and blinked back the tears again. ‘Have I ever told you that you’re the best boss in the whole wide world? And a wonderful friend too. Thank you.’
Owen leaned across and gave me a hug. ‘No, Jemma. It’s me who needs to thank you. You’ve turned this place around in the time you’ve been here. I never told you when you started here but the museum was struggling to stay afloat. It was a financial risk employing a curator, but the knowledge and passion I saw in you convinced me it was a risk worth taking. If it wasn’t for you, the museum would not exist. You’re more driven and much stronger than you realise. Don’t ever forget it.’
‘But I’m always crying. Look at me now.’ I dabbed my eyes with a tissue.
‘Crying isn’t a sign of weakness, Jemma. I think it means that you care deeply about something which is a good thing, isn’t it?’
As I returned to my desk to check my emails and work out my priorities for the week, I knew I’d done the right thing in resigning and I certainly felt boosted by Owen’s words.
It had been a tough week at home. Karen had picked me up from the station and filled me in on Mum’s mood swings as she drove me home. Rachel was at Bear’s Pad with Mum who burst into tears the moment she saw me. When Sean got home from school, he ran to me and clung to me, sobbing, which set Mum off again.
It broke my heart to see Mum in such a state. The woman I’d looked up to all my life as a role model – single mum, entrepreneur, expert, creative genius – wasn’t even a shadow of her former self. She seemed to move from anger and frustration to listless disinterest in the space of a day, and back again. It was like having a hormonal teenager in the house, lashing out at anyone and everything.
Liv and Annie at Bear With Me were incredible. They worked extra hours, stepped up to take on extra responsibilities, and insisted I spent more time at home than at the shop but, whilst I wanted to be there for Mum, I knew I couldn’t let things slip and risk financial difficulties.
That idiot consultant, Dr Steadman, agreed to re-assess Mum. Her appointment wasn’t until the Friday. I accompanied her and, as far as I could tell, he did nothing he hadn’t already done. It was hard to believe that Sam had held that role previously and would have been Mum’s consultant if he hadn’t moved away. Comparing the two of them was like comparing strawberries to sprouts. Where Sam was warm, approachable, and empathetic, Dr Steadman was cold, distant, and uncaring. When I tried to explain some of the things Mum had said or forgotten, he actually told me to shush! That would be a shush accompanied by a finger over the mouth and a flash of the eyes too. Unbelievable! Some of Mum’s anger rubbed off on me and I fired off a feisty email to the Trust’s complaints team when I got back to Bear’s Pad.
Karen and Rachel came round as often as they could. Rachel brought her laptop and worked from the dining table on a couple of days when I was at the shop but Mum was meant to be resting at home. We were so lucky that her job as a freelance travel agent meant that she was predominantly home-based, giving her the flexibility to be with Mum or to have Sean round at hers.
I hadn’t told Mum about my plans to move home. I’d talked it over with Rachel and Karen over a bottle of wine on Saturday night after Mum went to bed, and we agreed that it would be better to just get on with it, avoiding the stress and guilt Mum might experience while I worked my notice.
‘So you’re going to do it? You’re going to move back home?’ Karen had said.
‘Looks like it. Just when you thought you’d got rid of me.’
She hugged me. ‘I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t delighted that you’re finally coming home. I just wish it was under different circumstances.’
‘Same here.’
‘You’re doing the right thing,’ Rachel said. ‘Plus, you love it here and you’ve always loved the shop so it’s not like you’re returning to a place you hate and a job you can’t bear. Excuse the pun.’
We all giggled at that. ‘It’ll be fine,’ I said, as much to convince me as anything else.
As I snuggled under the duvet after Karen and Rachel left, I started to compose my resignation letter in my head. I loved my job and the museum so much that the thought of not working there actually hurt. I loved my housemates and my life in London and the thought of saying goodbye to them hurt too. But I loved my mum and my brother even more, and the thought of not being there when they needed me hurt the most.
Chapter 25
Sam
* From Jemma
Really short notice but are you free tonight for a catch up? xx
* To Jemma
No plans. Usual place? X
* From Jemma
Any chance you could come to the flat? 7pm? We’ll get pizzas in :)
It was quite pathetic really. It was the Tuesday of October half term but it could have been any night of the week – or the following week for that matter – and my reply would have been exactly the same: no plans. None. I seriously had to get myself some hobbies or some mates or both. Thing is, I already had a hobby and I used to have a best mate to do it with. All I really wanted to do each night was throw the boards in the back of the campervan, drive the short distance from our flat to North Beach, catch some waves with Nikki, and have a real ale in Blue Savannah while the sky turned from a stunning array of oranges and pinks to silky black. But she was go
ne and so was the sea. Sitting on the M25 car park and crawling along to the south coast to surf on my own didn’t carry the same appeal.
I shovelled a fork-full of salad into my mouth. What was I doing in London? I’d never wanted to live in a city. I could see what a great lifestyle it offered if you were into dining out, museums, theatres, wine bars, but I was a pie-and-a-pint-in-the-local kind of person who loved the outdoors. Who loved the sea. Not London material. Maybe Jemma would change that for me. She seemed to love the place so maybe she could show me around and convert me.
I still hadn’t been back to Whitsborough Bay. Every time Mum and Dad or Jack phoned, they asked the question: when are you coming home to visit? I knew that what they really meant was: when are you coming home for good? That unspoken interpretation always hung in the air after the call ended.
‘Dr Jones! What are you up to?’ Tiff plonked herself down opposite me and ripped open the cellophane wrapping on a torpedo roll.
‘This very second? Sending a text to Jemma. I’m coming to your flat tonight.’ I pressed send on my message to confirm I’d be there.
‘Has she told you yet?’
I looked up from my phone. ‘Told me what?
Tiff took a bite out of her roll and pulled faces whilst she tried to chew and swallow it quickly. ‘She obviously hasn’t. And if I’d got my brain in gear, I’d have realised that’s what she’s seeing you for tonight.’
‘She’s won the lottery?’ I suggested.
Tiff wrinkled her nose. ‘I wish. No. She’s moving back up north.’
I dropped my fork into my salad. ‘To Whitsborough Bay?’
‘Yes. But you didn’t hear it from me. Act surprised, will you?’ She grabbed my wrist and looked at my watch. ‘No! Why am I always late? I’ll see you at the flat later.’ Clamping her mouth over her part-eaten roll like a dog carrying a bone, she dashed towards the exit, leaving me to slump back in my seat. Jemma was leaving London? Shit! The only person I’d spent any time with outside of the hospital was shipping out. Where did that leave me?
Not able to face the rest of my lunch, I grabbed a coffee and headed back to my office instead. I pictured Jemma back in Whitsborough Bay with the squawk of gulls, the smell of salt in the air, and the stunning views of coast and countryside. Christ, I missed that. I missed the thrill of riding a wave, and the tranquillity of bobbing on my board in calmer seas. And I missed my family.
Back in my office, I called Mum.
‘Sammy? Is everything okay?’ The worry in her voice was obvious and I knew immediately it was because I never called her. Crap son. We’d always been incredibly close, but I’d pushed her – and everyone else – away since Nikki died. I needed to rectify that.
‘I’m fine. I was wondering if you and Dad had any plans this weekend.’
‘Nothing much. Usual stuff. Bit of shopping. Jack and Millie’s for Sunday lunch. Why?’
‘I thought I might come home for the weekend. Would it be okay to stay with you?’
‘That would be wonderful, Sammy. You know you’re welcome any time.’
‘I don’t know if I’ll come up on Friday or Saturday yet but I’ll let you know later.’
‘Will you stay for Sunday lunch? Shall I phone Jack for you?’
‘It’s okay. I’ll phone him. I owe him a call.’
Jemma opened the door to her flat just after 7.00pm and immediately hugged me. She held onto me tightly and I found myself doing the same, sharing that connection of lost loves.
‘Thanks for coming round at such short notice,’ she said when we parted.
‘It was tough but I managed to clear my diary. I wasn’t really in the mood for dinner with the Mayor, a Royal Box at the theatre, and a private viewing of the latest Damien Hirst collection with the artist himself. They all begged me not to cancel but it’s tough when you have such a demanding social life like me.’
Jemma raised an eyebrow. ‘Ready meal for one and a Game of Thrones box set?’ she asked.
‘Am I that transparent?’
She laughed as she led me to the lounge. ‘Drink?’
I sat down on the sofa. ‘Lager if you’ve got one.’
‘I have.’ She raised her voice. ‘Leah, Tiff, Drew! Sam’s here. Time to order pizza.’
The flat became chaotic for the next ten to fifteen minutes in a flurry of decisions about what to order. Drew shook my hand and apologised for the previous week, but I told him not to worry about it.
‘I still think you look like Thor,’ he said. ‘Don’t you, Jem?’
I caught Jemma’s eye and she nodded as though she understood that there was a connection to Nikki. ‘He’s got blond hair, Drew. You think anyone with blond hair looks like Thor. Hurry up and order. I’m starving.’
Once the pizzas were ordered, they left us alone. Jemma turned to me as soon as the door to the bedrooms had closed. ‘So, what’s the deal with Thor? It’s got something to do with Nikki, hasn’t it? You got all funny the other night yet you mentioned something about Thor before we caught the tube here.’
I nodded. ‘Nikki said I looked like Chris Hemsworth the night we met…’ I told her about the conversation, about Jack and I being called Thor and Loki at work, and how Thor became a bit of a recurring theme throughout our relationship. ‘Nikki thought it would be hilarious to christen our campervan Thor because he’s slow and weak; the exact opposite to the man himself. I tried to talk her out of it but it kind of stuck.’
‘That’s classic,’ Jemma said. ‘Do you want me to get Drew to quit it with the Thor thing?’
I shook my head. ‘Actually, I quite like it. I know I flinched at first, but it makes me smile. It’s a happy memory.’
‘Good. We like happy memories.’ Jemma glanced at her watch. ‘It’ll be chaos again when the pizzas arrive so I’d better tell you my news now. I’m moving back to Whitsborough Bay to support Mum and Sean.’ She cocked her head to one side. ‘You don’t look surprised. Tiff by any chance?’
I laughed. ‘Sorry. She saw me at lunch and accidentally let it slip. She made me promise to act surprised, but I’m pretty crap at acting. When do you go?’
‘Saturday. I handed in my notice on Monday and Owen’s letting me leave on Friday so I just need to get my stuff packed and… crap… I forgot to phone the van hire place before it closed. Anyway, I’ve got to hire a van and move my stuff.’
‘Have you got much stuff?’
‘Not really. I’ve always rented down here and it’s been furnished flats so it’s just boxes and a couple of shelving and storage units.’
‘Would all your stuff fit in a campervan?’
Her eyes widened. ‘Thor?’
‘Yes. The campervan of Asgard. I decided a trip home was long overdue so I spoke to my mum this afternoon. I’m doing good son and brother duty for the weekend. If you don’t mind the company, I’m more than happy to be your removals service for the weekend.’
‘Oh my God! Really? You don’t mind?’
‘You’d be doing me a favour. It’s a long, boring journey on my own, especially at those speeds.’
Jemma grinned. ‘Dr Jones, you’re an absolute star and I owe you big time for this.’
‘You don’t owe me anything. Just helping out a friend and, as I said, doing myself a favour too. How’s the packing going?’
‘I’ve got as far as getting hold of some crates and boxes. Unfortunately there’s nothing in them yet so I’ve got a few late nights ahead of me.’
‘I don’t mind helping.’
‘I couldn’t ask you to do that.’
‘If you’d rather I didn’t help, I understand. It’s your stuff and some of it’s going to be personal, but if you’ve got loads of books and CDs, two pairs of hands would make light work. And, let’s face it, I’ve got sod all else to do, although I am about to start a new season of Game of Thrones and t
he last one ended on a cliffhanger.’
‘You’re on,’ Jemma said. ‘Another drink?’
‘London really isn’t you, is it?’ she said, as she handed me another bottle of lager and sat down again.
I shook my head. ‘No. I’m not sure I’ll ever feel settled here.’
‘It can be a pretty lonely place, despite being so full of people, can’t it?’
I nodded. Talk about hitting the nail on the head.
‘So why don’t you move back to Whitsborough Bay?’
It was a good question and one that I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since lunchtime. I shrugged. ‘I can’t. What would I do? Dr Steadman’s got my job and there aren’t any other vacancies. There aren’t any jobs in York either. I’ve already looked. Not that I’d want to commute over an hour each way even if there were. I’ve rented out the apartment on a long lease too. No job. No home.’
‘Yeah, but compare it to what you have here in London. Job? Yes. Home? Yes. Family? Friends? Sea. No to all.’
‘True. But leaving so soon would be bad for my career. I need one, maybe two years on my CV.’
‘Impressive CV or family, friends and happiness,’ she said. ‘Which would you rather have?’
I took a swig of lager. Did I want to do that to the career that I’d spent so many years developing? Without Nikki, my career was the main focus in my life. Should it be the only focus, though? It had been since moving to London, but only because I had nothing else. Jemma was right. If I moved back to Whitsborough Bay, I’d have friends, family, and surfing. But I’d also be surrounded by places I’d been with Nikki, and it was those memories I’d fled from in the first place. I was obviously going to have a lot to think about whilst at home for the weekend.
Chapter 26
Jemma
I watched Sam’s expression carefully. Had I said too much? It was obvious to me that he was incredibly lonely in London. Trish had told me that, if she saw him in the canteen before work or at lunchtime, he was always on his own, or he was with colleagues but not really with them; more of a bystander to their conversation and banter.
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