What Doesn't Kill You

by Laura E. James

  Tess stood and pushed shut her door. ‘She’s all right, and Logan really likes her. As far as he’s concerned, it’s sorted.’

  ‘Sorted?’ Lifting a floppy, sleepy Dylan from his chair, Evie covered his head with her hand and brought him into the open. ‘Maybe, but I still want to meet her.’ She passed Dylan to Tess, let down the boot of the Mini and hauled out a small, green and blue buggy, which she flipped open and locked in position. ‘When your father-in-law tells you a woman is going to impact your marriage, I think it’s time for concern.’

  ‘Logan said that?’ Tess lowered Dylan into the pushchair. ‘She’s an old family friend. A sister of Griff’s schoolmate or something. There’s nothing funny going on.’

  Evie secured the car and took control of the buggy. ‘Logan says the same. He says he meant her involvement would give me time to work things out with Griff.’

  ‘He has a point.’

  Evie stared at her daughter. ‘Are you on his payroll or something?’

  Tess laughed. ‘No. I like Imogen. She’s got a way about her. She’s instantly likeable.’

  ‘Go on.’ Evie was data collecting. Logan hadn’t been at all forthcoming with information on the new woman, but Tess seemed happy to chat about her. ‘Did she turn up on Logan’s birthday?’

  ‘Yes. Griff took her over.’

  ‘And they what? Came up with this carer plan between them?’ Evie grabbed the plastic handles of Dylan’s transport and aimed them in the direction of Olivia’s shop.

  ‘I guess so.’ Tess marched ahead. ‘It’s a business arrangement, Mum. No different to if Logan had hired an outside firm. I think it’s great. It’s a good thing. You’ll get more time to do the things you love. Not that you don’t love looking after Logan.’ Tess peered over her shoulder.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Evie said. ‘You don’t need to make excuses for me or Logan. It’s just a bit sudden.’

  And wounding. This wasn’t a business proposition at all. Evie was in no doubt her refusal to assist Logan with dying had caused the abrupt change of heart. This was about him finding someone who would bend to his will. All those times he’d insisted on Evie being his sole carer, all the times guilt had split her in two, knowing she should have been with Tess, or feeding Dylan his tea, or enjoying a lazy Sunday morning in bed with Griff – all those times she’d never get back – meant nothing to Logan.

  Evie was to be replaced. Discarded.

  ‘You’re wondering what you’ve done wrong, aren’t you?’ Tess doubled back and walked alongside Evie. ‘It’s not like that. Imogen’s keen to help and I think Logan’s realised he’s been unfair on you.’

  ‘Did Griff ask her to help?’ He must have done. He’d taken her to see Logan. Evie scratched her head. There was something wrong with that line of thought. Until Logan’s birthday, Griff had no clue as to his father’s deteriorated state. Unless he really was just trying to help Evie.

  It was quite the conundrum.

  Visiting his father was a step in the right direction, at least Griff would understand why Evie had to devote so much time to him. It was taking Imogen with him that concerned her. ‘Is Imogen—’

  ‘Don’t sweat it, Mum. Her and Griff are just friends. I grilled her about it and I believe her. They go back a long way. Family friends. That’s all.’ As Tess held open the door to the craft centre, a ding alerted the owner to their entrance. Dylan’s pale eyelids breached and he looked up at the old-fashioned brass bell. Within seconds, he was nodding off again. ‘And she’s a holistic healer.’

  ‘Tess. How lovely to see you. And Evie, too.’ Olivia DeVere, dressed in her trademark ankle-length skirt, floral blouse and paisley waistcoat, bent over Dylan and stroked his cheek. ‘My goodness, you’ve grown since I last saw you.’ She straightened up. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’

  Her smile and the warmth of her greeting provided reassurance to Evie.

  ‘We’re on a mystery tour,’ she said. ‘Although we know where we are now, obviously.’ She glanced around the shop, taking in the polished shells on the racks, the coastal watercolours displayed on the walls, and the driftwood art filling the majority of the floor space, and settled on a youth standing behind the counter. He was concentrating on Tess, hailing her like a long lost friend.

  ‘You’ve an admirer,’ Evie said.

  ‘That’s not an admirer. That’s Rick.’ Tess acknowledged him with a half salute before wandering across to chat.

  ‘He’s my American grandson,’ Olivia said. ‘He’s helping me out during the holidays. I have an English grandson too, Seth, but he’s only six. I haven’t put him to work yet. We’re possibly the most cosmopolitan family on the island.’ She grinned as she ushered Evie and the buggy further inside. ‘Unless we count the new family at the café, but they’re not local.’

  ‘We’re heading up there later,’ Evie said, smiling. ‘I’ll report back.’

  ‘Excellent. I’d go myself, but we’ve been so busy. The sea’s provided me with lots of materials to work on, and Frank’s in demand, organising regular beach clean-ups. Rick and Tess met at one of the early clean-ups.’ She broke off and spent a moment studying Evie.

  ‘What is it?’ Evie said, inspecting her clothes for dirt.

  ‘In case you’re wondering, they’re just friends.’

  ‘That’s the second time I’ve heard that today.’ Evie arched her brows.

  ‘And the second time you’ve doubted it?’

  ‘No. I believe it of these two.’ There was nothing in Tess’s manner to suggest otherwise. The pair were relaxed and chatting with no obvious awkwardness or embarrassment. ‘Tess has mentioned Rick a few times. Cool comes up a lot.’

  ‘Ah. His favourite word.’ Olivia nodded in the teens’ direction and then turned her attention on Evie. ‘So, a mystery tour. How exciting.’ She took responsibility of the buggy and rocked it back and forth. ‘Rick, pass the stool over, please.’

  From behind the counter, the gangly youth produced a tall, wooden seat. He delivered it to Evie, then returned to his post.

  ‘Sit,’ Olivia said, stooping to check on Dylan. ‘The little angel. He’s dead to the world.’

  Like Ozzy, Evie thought, a wave of sadness breaking on her eyes.

  A shielding and comforting arm was thrown around her shoulders. ‘I’d invite you through to the stock room,’ Olivia said, ‘but a dingy, claustrophobic space isn’t what you need right now.’

  ‘It’s okay. I’ll be fine, thank you.’ Evie used the backs of her fingertips to wipe away the tears. ‘We’ve had some bad news and it’s just hit me.’

  ‘The perils of taking a break.’ Olivia maintained her hold. ‘And visiting me. I touched a nerve.’

  Evie reached up and patted Olivia’s hand. ‘Really, it’s okay. It’s a relief. I know what I’m dealing with now.’ She let both her and Olivia’s arms drop. No longer under the older woman’s protection, she slipped off the stool, straightened out her clothes and readied herself to fill Olivia in on the details. ‘It’s Ozzy,’ she said, holding back the tears. ‘He was hurt in an accident …’ She broke off, intending to continue once she’d recovered her poise, but Olivia was already on the case.

  ‘Oh, no. When?’

  ‘The accident was a couple of days ago. We … ’ Evie reviewed, then revised what she was going to say. ‘Griff had to let him go.’

  ‘A difficult few days. No wonder you’re frazzled.’ Olivia perched on a carved stone block near to the back wall of the shop. She was observing Evie. ‘I don’t believe in fighting grief.’

  ‘I’m trying to keep a lid on it.’ Evie couldn’t afford to let her tears for Ozzy escalate into her grieving for Griff. Preferring not to dwell on the matter, she peered over at Tess and Rick. They were engrossed in conversation. ‘What do you suppose teenagers talk about?’

  ‘On this occasion I expect Tess is telling Rick about Ozzy.’

  Evie continued watching as Tess pulled down her sleeve, clutched the end in her fist, and
dragged her arm across her face. ‘It affected her more than I expected.’

  ‘She’s a sensitive girl with a big heart.’

  ‘She is.’ Evie retook her seat, hooked her feet on the bar, and relaxed. Olivia was good company. Perceptive. Honest. She was a straight talker – one of the reasons Griff respected her.

  The ladies exchanged a smile.

  ‘This is Portland stone, from the quarry up the road. Isn’t it beautiful?’ Olivia smoothed a palm over the surface of the rock she was sitting on. ‘Not quite white, not grey. It has such majesty. St Paul’s Cathedral is built almost entirely from it. Imagine that. Our tiny island producing a rock of such significance. I applaud those who worked out the logistics of transporting tonnes of it to London. It was challenging enough getting this one in here.’

  ‘How did you get it in?’ Evie scanned the craft centre for clues, but nothing was screaming out the answer. ‘Did you take out a window?’

  ‘There was more to it, but yes, I did.’ Olivia slid off the rock, marched across the shop floor and stopped at a large pair of sliding patio doors. ‘Well, not me, personally. There are some things even I need help with.’ She grinned. ‘My very own rock, Frank, had the answer. If I’d not asked him, that beautiful piece of stone would have been shut outside, facing all sorts of inclement weather. Imagine being left to the storms when what you really needed was shelter.’

  The shop fell silent as both ladies regarded the ornamental limestone.

  Griff was Evie’s rock and she’d shut him out. She’d left him to weather the storm, when he deserved her care and attention as much as he deserved to know the truth, regardless of how vulnerable that made Evie. That meant there could be no more excuses and no further procrastination. Everything, every last detail had to be shared. Divulged. Exposed. If they were to start again, she wanted a clean slate. No secrets, no hidden baggage, and everything up for discussion – their fears, their fantasies, their desires. And they had to work as one unit, a family unit, with no resentment or jealousy as to how each spent their time, and with the freedom and security to know they could turn to each other in times of trouble – not just her and Griff, but Tess and Dylan, too.

  The prospect terrified Evie, but the dark was a lonely, forbidding place and her past, and Logan’s secret, had languished there too long. Bringing them into the open was the only way she and Griff would be able to see things clearly.

  After that, if Griff walked away, he was doing it from choice.

  ‘Frank sounds like a lovely man,’ she said, easing herself back to the topic in hand. ‘So what else did you do to get the rock in?’

  ‘We removed the window and the wall below. Such a simple solution. The rock was brought in and these beautiful patio doors were installed.’ Olivia gestured towards the glass as if she was presenting the prizes on a quiz show, her arms and hands splayed wide. ‘And isn’t the light in here wonderful? Frank didn’t just want to patch things up. He remodelled and renewed.’

  Evie gained the distinct impression she was being taught a life lesson. She wouldn’t have expected Griff to have spoken with Olivia about his marriage, but he could have. He was extremely fond of the old woman. How much did she know?

  ‘It wasn’t cheap,’ said Olivia, ‘but that’s the price one pays for the love of art.’ She returned to Evie and resumed her position on the rock.

  ‘Love’s running up quite a bill.’

  ‘But it’s worth it.’

  ‘Depends what value you place on it.’ Evie had paid dearly for her early investment in Neil. She’d come through with Griff though. The cost of true love was well worth the price. ‘But, yes,’ she conceded. ‘It is.’ She closed her eyes to the possibility she’d already lost her finest return. ‘It’s worth every penny.’ Restoring her vision, she expected to see Olivia studying her, but the older woman was watching Rick and Tess.

  ‘So, who don’t you believe are just friends?’

  Evie was aware Olivia had a method of removing the spotlight from the person centre stage. It was a way to nurture openness. Griff had told her. ‘Don’t let her pottering fool you,’ he’d said, laughing. ‘She’s listening and taking on board everything you say and do.’

  So it seemed. Olivia’s attention was on the teens, but Evie was in no doubt the wise woman next to her would hear and process her every word.

  ‘Does it have something to do with the holistic healer Tess mentioned?’ Olivia pushed up from the ornate stone and tinkered with a selection of framed prints hanging on the back wall.

  ‘What makes you say that?’ Evie narrowed her eyes. Either Griff had confided in Olivia, or, as he’d once said, the lady possessed a sixth sense. She was alarmingly accurate at reading people and situations. Griff had concluded her years as a schoolteacher had graced her with that particular gift.

  ‘No mystery,’ Olivia said, swapping one print for another. ‘It was the last thing mentioned before we mulled over people being just friends.’

  That was true. Evie sighed with relief and alighted from the stool. ‘Her name’s Imogen. She’s Griff’s new friend. Well, not new, they’re old friends, family friends—’ Evie stopped herself. ‘I don’t actually know what they are, but I do know she’s entwining herself into our life and I’m not sure I like it.’

  Olivia whirled round. She had a small-framed picture in her hand. ‘Imogen?’

  The tone of recognition was unexpected, causing Evie to frown. ‘Do you know her?’

  ‘We’re acquainted,’ Olivia said. ‘She and Griff met by chance in here a few weeks ago. The breeze blows all sorts in.’ Olivia offered the print to Evie. ‘Hold this, please.’

  Evie examined the painting. ‘Pulpit Rock. It’s beautiful.’

  The ancient stack, like a giant’s boot stamped into the sea, stood tall, each layer of rock a different hue to the one below; from the blue of the sea to corn, to green, to black, to grey. The artist had picked out the copper veins and rust-coloured stains, drawing the eye to the top, leaving the viewer in no doubt the rock was an object to be revered. It was nature in all her magnificence.

  ‘It is.’ Olivia spun on her heels and removed a large watercolour from the wall. ‘I’m going to put it here.’

  Falling in next to her, Evie swapped her painting for Olivia’s, and leaned the discarded one against the nearest set of shelves. ‘What’s Imogen like?’

  ‘She’s like this painting of Pulpit Rock. Beautiful and dangerous. But I didn’t take to her.’ Olivia stretched to loop the picture wire over a hook embedded in the wall. ‘I trust Griff, but she’s a whole different matter.’

  ‘Sounds ominous. Tell me more.’

  ‘I’ve seen her type before,’ Olivia said, turning to face Evie. ‘Duplicitous, manipulative. She’ll wow you with wondrous magic with one hand, while performing dirty tricks with the other.’ She collected the large print and headed for the stock room. ‘I warned Griff to keep an eye on her. You should, too.’

  Making their way up to the café, Evie had plenty of thoughts to occupy her. The ones concerning Griff and Imogen disturbed her most. ‘Rick’s nice,’ she said, directing her energies at Tess. ‘Were you talking about Ozzy?’

  ‘To start with, then Rick told me about his mum and brother. They were killed in a motorbike accident a few years ago. His brother was his twin. I think he said his name was Todd. Isn’t it awful?’ Tess peered down at Dylan, who was wide awake and pointing to every gull within his vision. ‘I don’t know how he copes.’

  ‘Is he the Frampton lad?’ Evie halted, applied the brake on the buggy, and set Dylan free. He ran across to a low-level wall that overlooked the beach, and became transfixed by whatever was below.

  ‘His dad was a Hollywood stunt actor,’ Tess said, following Dylan’s lead. She tempted the fascinated two-year-old away with the reminder an ice cream was waiting for him at the top of the hill. ‘Rick said they moved to England shortly after the accident. Something to do with his dad being born on Portland.’

  Curio
us to see what had caught Dylan’s attention, Evie pushed the empty buggy towards the wall, and peeked over. There was a couple in an intimate hold, lying on the pebbles, kissing and canoodling. ‘Oh, they’ve got to be uncomfortable,’ she said to herself.

  Undeterred, Tess carried on with her story. ‘Apparently it was all over the news.’

  ‘It was.’ Evie continued on her journey. ‘I remember seeing the reports. So tragic. It was about the time your dad died.’

  ‘Yeah. I didn’t mention that. Figured we had enough going on with Ozzy and Rick’s family.’

  As they reached the peak of the incline, the ground levelled out into a tarmacked square. It was graced with wooden benches attached to tables with closed parasols speared through their middles. There was a set of concrete steps to the rear leading to a stony footpath, and to the left was the flat-roofed café with the ‘Sold’ board attached to its wall. Ahead was a clear view across to the pale rocks of Preacher’s Cove.

  Evie parked the buggy at the nearest table, reached into her pocket and produced a purse. ‘Here’s a tenner,’ she said, passing a brown note to Tess. ‘I’ll have a tea, and you and Dylan can choose for yourselves. But I want change.’

  Tess grinned. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  As Dylan dragged Tess towards the café entrance, Evie took a seat, stared out to sea and let her mind return to thoughts of Imogen. With conflicting reports from Logan, Tess and Olivia, it was impossible to form an opinion of the woman. The sooner she met with her the better.

  ‘Mum?’

  Evie turned to find Tess at her side, and Dylan at her knee. A dark-haired waitress from the café was approaching the table. She was carrying a tub of ice cream and two mugs. Evie’s eyes strayed to the barrels of bangles on the girl’s arms.

  ‘Mum? Guess who’s bought the café?’ Tess was buzzing with excitement. She replied to her own question. ‘Stephanie’s mum. I can’t believe it. I walked in and there she was.’

  ‘Stephanie’s mother?’

  ‘Stephanie.’

  The waitress smiled and put the mugs on the table, handing the ice cream tub to Evie. ‘For your little boy,’ she said, her French accent immediately giving her away. She held out her hand, which Evie took. ‘I’m Stephanie Dubois. A friend of Tess.’