“They did. And that I was sorry.”
“You’re not the first person to tell me that today.” Mia thought about Charlie, apologizing for things that weren’t even his fault. It wasn’t comparable to the things her father had to make up for.
“Charlie?” George smiled. “But you forgave him, obviously. It’s nice to know you’re happy here. You’ve found someone, found your place.”
Mia stopped, her feet sinking into the dry sand. “You haven’t got the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”
A few steps ahead, George turned to face her, a frown spreading across his forehead. “But...” he started, then paused, shook his head, and said, “And I won’t, unless you tell me.”
The steps to the Esplanade were just ahead now; she could be home in minutes. But something inside made her reluctant to take them. She wanted her father to know how much suffering he had caused.
“What do you think happened when you left, Dad? You stole from the town. You ran out on your students. You abandoned me and Mum. You know this town.” A passing dogwalker turned to stare, and Mia lowered her voice, wishing they’d done this up at the cottage instead. There, only Charlie would have been around to listen. “What do you think happened next?”
George looked uncomfortable. “I know it can’t have been easy.”
“Easy? Mum left town once I was old enough to look after myself, it was so hard. She couldn’t take the whispers and the looks and the pity.”
“But you stayed.”
“I love it here.” Mia bit her lip. “I wasn’t going to let you take that from me too.”
She turned and walked toward the sea shore, tugging off her sneakers as she went. She wanted to feel the water against her skin. Wading ankle-deep, she closed her eyes and reminded herself why she had stayed even when everything was awful.
Behind her, she heard George following, and when she opened her eyes again, he was standing beside her, trousers rolled to the knees, his shoes and socks laid neatly beside her haphazardly tossed Converses.
“Why did you leave?” She hadn’t meant to ask the question, not least because she already knew the answer. He’d found someone he loved more than her mother. More than her. And he’d left to be with them.
“I...I just wasn’t ready.” George was staring at their feet in the water. “Your mother, she wanted me to be so many things. I moved here because she loved it, and I loved her, and I thought it would be enough. Then I was a father, and I loved you so much I ignored the part of me that said this wasn’t meant to be my life. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted me to be part of the community, to be on the council, to be headmaster, to make her somebody in this town.” He shook his head. “I never wanted that. I just wanted my little family. But there I was, stuck in a town between nowhere and the deep blue sea, responsible for everything wrong with the place. And then I met Yvonne.”
“And what did she want from you?” Mia asked, thinking of Becky and Charlie, and how he’d moved here for her, but she’d been the one to leave.
“She wanted me to get her out of this town.” George shrugged, his hands deep in his trouser pockets. “And by then, it was all I wanted too.”
They stood in silence, listening to the waves and the seabirds, and watching the sun sink down over the water. Mia felt like she was hypnotized by the view while her mind ran her father’s words over and over, and she wondered how she was ever supposed to move on again.
Then, finally, the encroaching numbness in her feet woke her up.
“I’m not sure if I can forgive you,” she said, stepping onto the sand and reaching down to rub some feeling back into her skin. “I’m not sure I even understand. I’d... After you left, I’d have given anything to be part of this community again, to be something other than the outsider.”
“But you are.” Mia looked up at her dad smiling down at her in the dying daylight, and for once she actually wanted to hear what he had to say. “Ever since I got here, Charlie’s been telling me how you’re saving the town, how everyone’s looking to you to make things right around here. How could you be doing that if you weren’t part of the community?”
“Yeah, well. I’m not sure I’m doing it very well.”
“Charlie is.” George started pulling on his left sock, hopping until he could then get his foot into his shoe. “You’ve got a really good man there, you know.”
The chill of the water and the air came together in her bones. “He’s not mine.”
“Isn’t he?”
Mia risked another glance at her father, knowing she should be going into some rant about how he couldn’t possibly know anything about her life, let alone her love life, when he’d been gone for so long. But the promise in his voice, the suggestion that perhaps, just perhaps, everything she wanted might be there for the taking, was just too tempting.
“Maybe,” she said, feeling better about the world than she had in a long time. “Maybe.”
Chapter 14
Magda and Ditsy were waiting for her at the A to Z shop when she got home, a bottle of wine already open on the counter between them.
“Charlie called,” Magda said, pouring her a glass. “Said you’d gone to speak to your dad.”
“We thought you might like some company when you got home.” Ditsy had pulled an extra stool from the back room, and Mia hopped up on it, taking the wine gratefully.
“Thanks,” she said, meaning a lot more than just the alcohol.
Magda shrugged. “Do you want to tell us how it went?”
Sipping her wine, Mia considered. “Better than I thought it would.” She shook her head. “I’m sort of still processing.”
“That’s okay,” Ditsy told her. “We’re much more interested in hearing about your dinner with Charlie anyway.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “It was payment for making me talk to my dad.”
“It was a romantic dinner for two,” Ditsy corrected her. “So tell us about it.”
“I had the steak and ale pie. He had a burger. It was all delicious.” When Ditsy and Magda continued to stare at her, she added, “What? Charlie and I eat together all the time. It’s not like this was some huge event.”
“You eat together at StarFish,” Magda said. “Under the guise of food tasting. That is not the same.”
“I don’t see why,” Mia said, shifting on her stool in a vain attempt to get away from their assessing looks.
“Because we were hoping you two might finally be getting somewhere!” Ditsy sounded personally affronted at Mia’s description of the evening. “It’s not like we haven’t been patient.”
Mia couldn’t help but remember the way her dad had said, ‘Isn’t he?’ when she’d told him Charlie wasn’t hers. Or the way Charlie’s chest had felt against her cheek in the car park. Or the heat of his hand on her thigh.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.
“Like hell.” Ditsy sloshed more wine into her glass. “It’s obvious you two are crazy about each other. But we all knew Charlie was still hung up on Becky, and you... Well, you had your own issues.”
“But now Becky’s here, surely you can see he’s over her,” Magda put in, leaning forward against the counter, her face earnest.
“He did sleep with her, very, very recently,” Mia pointed out.
“Tramp,” Ditsy said, and Mia didn’t like to ask if she was referring to Charlie or her niece.
Magda waved a hand. “He was stupid. But maybe it made it clear to him what he wanted. He hasn’t been near her since the dinner she set up, you know.”
“Really?” Mia shook her head. “Look, I know you both mean well, but just because we’re friends, and I’m one of the only single women his age in town, doesn’t mean Charlie has to fall desperately in love with me.”
“Doesn’t mean he hasn’t, either.” Ditsy sighed. “Honestly, haven’t you ever thought about it?”
“All the time.” Mia slapped a hand over her mouth and cursed the wine as Ditsy
and Magda gave out triumphant shouts, and Magda held her hand up for a high five. After a moment’s confusion, Ditsy complied.
“I knew it!” Ditsy said, pouring Mia another glass.
“But it doesn’t matter,” Mia insisted. “Because even if he’s finally getting over Becky, I don’t want him rushing into this on the rebound or because he’s drunk or desperate or whatever. I don’t want him to get trapped in something he doesn’t really want.”
“You don’t want him to leave,” Magda said, understanding in her eyes.
“I don’t think you need to worry about that, dear.” Ditsy put a wrinkled hand over Mia’s. “I don’t think your young man is going anywhere.”
“Then there’s no need to rush, is there,” Mia said. “Let’s save the cinema first and maybe once Becky’s left town and Charlie’s had time to get over it all. Maybe then something can happen. Maybe.”
Ditsy and Magda shared a rather frightening smile.
“If you think you can wait that long, dear,” Ditsy said. “By all means.”
Mia drank the rest of her wine and tried not to think about it.
* * * *
Charlie met Mia in the Fox the next night with a certain degree of apprehension. He wished he’d had a chance to find George and ask how the big talk had gone–he’d have liked a heads-up on Mia’s prospective mood. But StarFish had been pulling in actual customers that day, much to Magda’s delight and his relief. It seemed what Aberarian locals had lacked was somewhere they could go for breakfast or lunch, and once the committee members and hangers- on had got a taste for his food, they were keen to try it again.
Something else he owed Mia for, he supposed.
The Fox looked busier, too, and most of the chatter seemed to be about the Fish and Film Festival. With only a week or so to go, people were starting to get excited. Charlie figured if all the locals showed up, willing to spend money, they might break even without drawing in people from farther afield.
Breaking even wouldn’t save the Coliseum, though, and he knew that was what was worrying Mia.
“You’re late,” Mia said, but she was smiling and pushing a pint along the bar toward him, so he figured she wasn’t actually mad at him.
“Sorry.” He hopped up onto the bar stool next to her and took a moment to just enjoy looking at her. She was wearing his second favorite of her many tea dresses, with tiny blue flowers against a purple background, and her dark hair curled down onto her shoulders as she leaned forward across the bar. “How did it go last night?”
Mia raised an eyebrow at him. “You mean your roommate didn’t fill you in on everything when he got home?”
“I’ve been at the restaurant all day. I’ve had actual customers.”
“Well, bully for you,” Mia said with a grin. “Seriously, that’s great. Magda must be pleased.”
“Very.” Charlie took a long celebratory sip from his pint. “And now Kevin’s taken over in the kitchen, I get to relax with you and hear all about your talk with your father.” He lowered his voice for the last bit. He didn’t think the town cared as much as Mia thought they did, but it wasn’t worth getting her riled up, not when his day was going so well.
But Mia shook her head. “I’ve got a much more important project I need your help with. Jonny!” she called up the bar, and Charlie saw the landlord cover his face with his hands before moving in their direction.
“Tell me you just want another drink,” Jonny said, looking at Charlie with despair in his eyes.
Charlie winced for the other man. Apparently Mia had a goal in sight and wasn’t about to give up anytime soon. “I think the lady wants a word.”
Jonny grabbed Charlie’s arm. “You tell her, Charlie. You tell her. She’ll listen to you. I just can’t...” With that, the pub landlord disappeared off to the other end of the bar, responding to an imaginary call for a drink.
“Wimp.” Mia huffed. “Come on, I suppose we might as well get a table, then. Give him a little break.”
“What are you trying to talk him into?” Charlie asked, weaving his way through the occupied tables to a free one in the corner.
“Nothing much,” Mia said, in the sort of tone she always used when she was lying. “I just thought the Crooked Fox might benefit from a stall down at the festival site this year.”
“So the dads don’t all have to disappear to the pub this year?” Charlie guessed.
Mia nodded. “It’s all Heather Jenkins’s fault. She’s been complaining since the start about it. I think she wants Jonny to close for the day.” She paused. “Actually... Back in a minute.”
Charlie watched her dash over to the bar, grabbing Jonny by the shirtsleeve and talking at what looked to be an alarming speed. In just a few minutes, she was rushing back again, a huge smile spread across her face.
“You did it?” Charlie watched her drop back into the chair beside him, still beaming.
“I most certainly did.”
“How, exactly?”
Mia’s eyes darted across to the pictures on the wall. “Gentle persuasion.”
“You told him Mayor Fielding was threatening to close the pub for the day otherwise, didn’t you.”
“I’m that predictable?” Mia winced.
“To me you are.” Charlie leaned forward and noticed too late that she’d done the same, and they were suddenly very close and his mouth was Sahara dry. “I’m sure you’re still a mystery to the rest.”
Mia’s eyes were wide and bright green, even in the dim lighting of the pub. “That’s okay. I don’t think I mind so much, not being a mystery to you.”
But she was–an utter mystery. He had no idea what she was thinking, no idea what she wanted. And he had no idea she was going to lean in and kiss him until she did.
Her lips were warm and soft against his–and gone too soon. Mia pulled away with a smile, reaching for her coat while Charlie was still struggling to sit up straight.
“I’ve got to go,” she said. “More emails to answer and calls to make tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow, though, yeah?”
Charlie nodded and felt even that was quite an achievement, given the circumstances.
* * * *
Mia took the cliff path to Charlie’s cottage at a glacial pace, telling herself she was just being careful on the rocky trail but knowing she was really just putting off her arrival. In the end, it made little difference. George was leaning against a rickety garden gate outside the house and saw her before she even spotted him.
“Mia!” He sounded so pleased, so surprised, she couldn’t even regret coming, really.
“Hello, Dad.” The words felt strange on her tongue.
“Do you want to come in?” he asked when she reached the gate. “We’ve got a new front door now and everything.”
“What did you have before?”
George shrugged. “A piece of wood with unattached hinges. The new door got stuck in Calais for a few days. One of the reasons Charlie wanted me here to keep an eye on things.”
Mia eyed the cottage suspiciously. As much as she wanted to punish her father for leaving her, him dying of hypothermia in Charlie and Becky’s rotten dream cottage wasn’t quite what she had in mind.
“Why don’t we talk out here,” she suggested.
George nodded, stepping over the gate rather than opening it and saying, “Come sit with me by the cliff edge. You get the most wonderful view of the sea, and the boats coming in.”
Settled on the grass beside her father, the late afternoon sun warm on her skin, looking down over the beach and the harbor, Mia almost felt like a child again, safe and warm and loved in a world where nothing could ever really be that bad.
But she wasn’t. And there were still so many questions she hadn’t asked.
“What happened with you and...you know.”
“Yvonne?” George asked, surprised. “It didn’t last very long. I think it was more of a means to an end than anything else. For both of us.”
A way to escape, Mia thou
ght. To get away from her and her mother. Away from Aberarian. “Did you... Have you been alone? Since then?”
George looked away, over at the lighthouse. “I won’t lie to you. There have been other women.”
“How many?” It was a dark, horrible fascination. She didn’t really want to hear about her father’s love life. But if he’d been in her life, she’d know who he was dating, right? So if they were going to rebuild their relationship, she needed to know.
“Two,” George answered, still not looking at her.
“Are you with someone now?”
She could only see the side of her dad’s face, but she still caught the wince before he said, “Not anymore.”
“Is that why you came?”
Now he turned to face her. “I came back for you. Because I’d left it too long already. Frances leaving me... It was the push I needed. It was my sign, to tell me it was time. That was all.”
Mia nodded, surprised to find she believed him. “Okay.”
“What about you?” George asked. “Do I need to give Charlie a ‘if you hurt my little girl…’ speech?”
“I don’t think we’re there yet,” Mia said, not sure if she meant her and Charlie or her and her dad. Luckily, George didn’t ask.
“Okay,” he said. “Then tell me something else about you. About your job, say. Or the festival.”
Mia leaned back on her hands, her heels pushing against loose stones and grass, and started to talk, staring out at the sea in front of her. And when she’d finished, she realized he now knew more about her life than almost anyone else in town. He knew about the A to Z shop and the Coliseum and StarFish. He knew she loved the smell of popcorn most on a Saturday night, when she knew it was made just for her. He knew that sometimes she swapped some of the items on the N and O shelves round, just to see how long it would take Ditsy to notice. He knew she hoped Magda was becoming a real friend.
He might not have been much of a father, but it turned out he was a very good listener.
Walking back to the cottage, the sky starting to darken above them, George paused at the cottage gate and said, “The electrics should be fixed in the next week or so. Maybe then... Maybe you could come up for a cup of tea or something.”
An A to Z of Love Page 15