‘What is it?’ Amanda asked, her face etched with concern.
‘I can’t go back.’ Eve chewed at her bottom lip.
‘Where?’
‘To work.’
‘Well, no, I don’t think you should this week.’
‘Not after what happened. I threw up all over myself … in front of the governors!’
‘Uh … yes, you did. But you were very unwell, Eve.’
‘Yes!’ Eve laughed, a strange, hollow sound in her untidy kitchen. ‘So I was.’ She stood up, and as she did so, the cord at the waist of her baggy jogging bottoms snapped and they fell to the floor.
She looked down, then at Amanda, and they both started to giggle, although Eve recognized her own laughter as bordering on hysteria.
She shook her head as she tugged the trousers back up her legs, trying to ignore the fact that her friend had probably just had a clear view of the out-of-control bikini line that was sprouting from of the sides of her knickers like some sort of wild crotch beard. ‘I found these on the floor this morning. They’re not even mine … They must be Darryl’s, which is really embarrassing as it shows how long it’s been since I cleaned or tidied. But Amanda … I do know that I can’t go back … at the moment. I need a break. I think I have done for a while.’
‘Oh honey, you’re so good at what you do. You mustn’t despair. This is just a blip because you need a break. Once you’ve recharged, it’ll all seem different. You’ve done amazing things in your time at the school. I mean, just look at the last school inspection report. Outstanding! How many head teachers can stick that on their CV?’
‘I know. But I’ve given my life to it, Amanda. Taking a break is a scary concept.’ Her throat ached and she had to swallow hard to force out her next words. ‘I have nothing except for my job.’
‘You have this house.’ Amanda chewed her bottom lip.
‘Yes, and look at it. A family home in need of a family. I drift in and out of here like some kind of ghoul, leaving more and more mess in my wake. There are three bathrooms here, for God’s sake! And a downstairs loo! What do I need four toilets for? I can’t even keep one clean.’
‘You’re right about that. I went into the downstairs one and there was a surprise party going on.’ A smile played across Amanda’s lips and Eve registered that her friend was trying to lighten the mood.
‘A what?’
‘You hadn’t flushed.’
Eve’s cheeks burned. ‘Sorry about that. But do you see what I mean? I’m so busy I don’t even have time to flush a poo.’
Amanda nodded. ‘Why not take a few weeks off, see how you feel? Get a doctor’s note and focus on resting.’
‘I can’t rest here.’
‘Too many memories?’ The kindness in Amanda’s eyes made Eve’s chest tighten.
‘Way too many. I can’t stand thinking about what might have been.’
‘Have you …’
‘Heard from Darryl?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Not since the last solicitor’s letter. He’s filed for divorce and I don’t blame him. I mean … it hurts. Still. But I didn’t treat him right; I ignored his suffering and just threw myself back into work. He couldn’t do the same. He asked me to slow down, to go away somewhere just the two of us to try to heal, but I couldn’t do it. I know he still blames me for losing the … the …’ Eve’s throat ached and she rubbed it hard, as if she could dislodge the vice-like pain that gripped her when she allowed herself to think about what she’d lost. What they’d lost. Because Darryl had been broken by it too. Even more broken than she’d been, because she hadn’t allowed herself to dwell.
‘Yesterday … was it seeing Sandra?’
‘I think so. Not that I begrudge her that wonderful happy glow or anything!’ Eve held up a hand then realized it was shaking so lowered it and pressed it into her lap.
‘Of course not.’
‘But … I hadn’t seen her for a while because she’d been on bed rest, and then seeing her so full and fat and with so much to look forward to just brought home how much I was missing.’
‘So why don’t you try to get away for a bit? Perhaps to the coast? We can sort things out at work to cover for you.’
‘You can’t, though, can you? I’m a head teacher. I can’t just go off on holiday in term time.’
‘You suffered a terrible loss and didn’t allow yourself to grieve. These are extenuating circumstances, Eve. I’ll deal with any fallout.’
‘Maybe.’
‘You could visit your parents in Italy?’ Amanda’s tone was hesitant, her eyes wary.
‘That’s not going to help.’ Eve shivered. ‘I couldn’t bear trying to explain it all to them. I only gave them the briefest outline of events. Not that they’d care anyway.’
‘Could you just have a quick sunshine break then? Grab a last-minute deal to Spain or Crete, perhaps?’
The idea of getting on a plane filled Eve with a sudden cold dread. Travelling to a foreign country alone seemed way too big a deal to manage in her fragile state. She drummed her fingertips on her thighs and took slow, deep breaths.
An idea began to form.
‘I do have my aunt … who lives in Cornwall.’
‘Is that your father’s sister?’
‘Yes. His twin sister actually.’ Eve had been selective with how much she’d told Amanda about her family, in spite of their friendship. After all, what kind of woman didn’t make time for her father’s sister, the woman she was so close to as a child? But now there didn’t seem to be any point in withholding the information. ‘I haven’t seen her in a while but she was always lovely. With my parents working so much, I spent a few summers – okay, all my childhood summers – in her Cornish cottage and it was heavenly. My mother never liked her; they had a clash of personalities, I think. The last time I saw her was about … Oh my! It must be when I graduated from my teaching course. She came because my parents were … otherwise engaged.’
She glanced at Amanda, trying to ascertain if her friend was judging her, but all she saw was kindness. ‘I can’t believe I haven’t made the effort to see her since then, but I’ve been so …’ She was about to use her regular excuse. Too busy … Just like Mum and Dad always were. Too busy to see family. Too busy to make love to her husband. Too busy to learn how to cook. Too busy to take bed rest when the doctor advised her to slow down after she started spotting. Too busy … too busy … too busy.
‘You need to go, Eve. I think Cornwall sounds like a very good plan.’
‘It’s so beautiful there, Amanda. You can’t imagine how beautiful until you see it: the colourful cottages, the bustling harbour, the cobbled streets, the pretty little cove and the copious amounts of greenery everywhere. It’s such a vibrant place to be. And the air … Well it just smells amazing!’ Her heart lifted as she recalled the fresh salty air that she’d filled her lungs with as a child, as she remembered how soft the powdery white sand of the cove felt between her toes and as she thought of how it would be to walk along the harbour eating freshly cooked fish and chips then indulging in an ice cream from the local parlour.
‘I’m going to ring her right now.’ A shiver of delight ran down her spine and her belly flipped. ‘Before I change my mind. Then I need to ring Sandra to inform her and book an appointment with my GP. Part of me is screaming out that this is wrong, that I’m being weak, that it’s career suicide. But the other part is cheering me on, insisting that this is the right thing to do. The only thing to do if I want to get better.’
‘You only have one life, Eve.’
‘Just the one. Yes, it’s time to re-evaluate. I do just need some time, don’t I? I will be okay again?’
‘Of course you will, honey. Now get organized!’ Amanda leaned over and hugged her. ‘This is what you need to do. Work can wait. The school isn’t going anywhere.’
As Eve allowed her friend to comfort her, she bit her cheek hard to stop the tears from falling. She was torn. For as much as she wanted
to believe that she had to sort herself out, to grab life with both hands and live again, she wasn’t a hundred per cent sure that this was the right thing to do. She’d always known what she wanted, always known where she was headed, always been confident that her decisions were the right ones. That was what had made her so successful at what she did.
But now, when it came to her life, the world outside of education, she was suddenly at sea. She had sacrificed so much that she didn’t know what she wanted any more, or who she was, or how to live.
Perhaps a change of scenery would help, a short break away from the city, catching up with a woman she’d once enjoyed spending time with. A woman who had been so kind and caring throughout her childhood and who – Eve admitted it to herself now – she had neglected. Perhaps this was one of the things that was niggling at her. After all, she had been remiss in her treatment of Aunt Mary, pushing her away just as she’d pushed Darryl away. If she was able to make things up to her aunt and to spend some time in the idyllic little town, she might be able to make some decisions about her future.
But first she had an uncomfortable realization that she was going to have to try to come to terms with her past.
Chapter 2
Eve had zoned out for much of the three-hour drive from Bristol to the small historic fishing village of Conwenna Cove. She’d driven on autopilot, a strange numbness settling over her like a warm blanket. She wouldn’t fight it, not yet. It was better to arrive safely and settle in before she attempted to even begin to deal with what was happening to her.
It would be good to stay somewhere she didn’t know many people, somewhere she could be almost anonymous, somewhere she could try to evaluate exactly what had happened in her life and to decide where she went from this point on.
When she had finally plucked up the courage to telephone Aunt Mary, she’d tried her aunt’s mobile number first but it went straight to voicemail several times. Eve guessed it could be because the signal in Conwenna wasn’t particularly strong or consistent. So she’d tried the landline instead and been thrown into a panic when a man had answered, suddenly filled with the fear that Mary had moved, or even died, during their period of non-contact, although her aunt’s texts would not – of course – have come from the afterlife. The man’s voice had been deep and gruff and she’d been unable to ascertain his age as he’d said so little, though he hadn’t had the Cornish accent she knew so well. However, when she’d told him her name, she’d heard his sharp inhalation of breath, then suffered in the ten-second silence that followed. Eve had felt judged in that silence, though she couldn’t tell if it was paranoia due to her fractious state or if there had been something icy in his tone when he’d finally replied, ‘Did you say Eve?’
‘Yes. I’m Mary’s niece.’
‘I see.’ He drew out the S and it reminded Eve of a snake hissing.
‘Can I speak to her, please?’
Another silence.
‘Hello?’ Eve feared that he was about to break bad news.
‘Hold on.’
‘Thanks.’ She bit her tongue to prevent herself from asking, Who are you and what are you doing in my aunt’s home?
She heard him placing the receiver on a table, the one next to the cottage’s front door presumably, and she pictured the old-fashioned telephone her aunt used to have with the curly wire. The receiver used to have a peanut coating as Mary often answered the phone whilst chewing on her favourite snack. Did she still eat peanuts? Did she still have the old phone? It was quite possible, seeing as how the man on the other end had left the receiver where it was and not carried it with him, as he would have done had it been a free handset.
I should know these things.
‘Hello?’ A woman’s voice came on the line, sounding frail and wary.
‘Aunt Mary?’ Eve asked.
‘Who is this?’ The voice wobbled.
‘Aunt Mary, is that you?’
‘Hello? Phyllis?’
‘No, it’s Eve. Who are you?’ Had Mary developed some form of early-onset dementia?
‘Now come on, Irene.’ In the background, another voice, this time with warm tones and familiar cadences. ‘Let me have the phone and you can go drink your tea.’
‘But there’s someone on the line. I think it’s Phyllis.’
‘No, I don’t think so, Irene. Phyllis calls every other day and she rang yesterday. I think this call is for me.’
‘No!’
‘Yes, it is.’ So patient and calm. ‘Now hand me the phone or your tea will get cold.’
‘No!’
‘There’s cake, too.’
‘Oh … I like cake.’
‘I know you do. It’s lemon drizzle.’
‘My favourite.’
Eve heard shuffling as someone moved away.
‘Hello?’
‘Aunt Mary?’
‘Goodness, is that you, Eve? When Jack said your name, I thought he must’ve misheard.’
‘Yes.’ On hearing the delight in her beloved aunt’s voice, Eve had been overwhelmed by emotion, suddenly unable to vocalize all the things she’d prepared to say by way of explanation. ‘Um … it’s been a while, I know.’
‘I’ve been wondering if … when you’d call, dear. Are you okay?’
Eve nodded, then shook her head, trying to swallow the lump that cut off her voice.
‘Goodness, we haven’t spoken since … Oh, I don’t know when. Did you get my cards?’
‘Yes. Thank you,’ Eve squeaked.
‘And the flowers after … I’m so sorry about what happened, Eve. Such a dreadful loss. I wanted to come to you, but there was so much going on here and no one to take care of the animals, and you were so insistent about going straight back to work …’
‘I know.’ Eve’s throat ached. ‘I was … I am okay.’
‘Such a strong, independent young woman you are. You’ve always been the same.’ Mary’s voice carried a wistful tone that suggested she admired Eve’s strength but also doubted it would last indefinitely. ‘How are things now with Darryl?’
‘Not good.’ Understatement of the century.
‘Oh sweetheart. I had a feeling … though your texts didn’t really say much. I guess it was what they didn’t say that alerted me. Eve, I do wish I’d been able to come to see you.’
‘I could have come to you, Aunt Mary, but it was just so busy here.’ She cleared her throat, aware that she was making the same old excuse. ‘As for Darryl … He’s, um, he’s been gone a while.’
‘How awful! I’m so sorry, sweetheart.’
‘I’m all right, though. I’m managing.’ Eve tried to force brightness into her tone, but instead her voice had a slightly manic edge to it.
‘And how’s work?’
She sighed.
‘Not so good either? I know how much you love your job.’
‘I do. I did … But …’ Eve swallowed hard then opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
‘Is it time for a visit? I’m certain that some good sea air and home cooking would do you good.’ It was as if her aunt was psychic. How could she know what Eve needed?
‘Please!’ she croaked.
‘Come as soon as you’re ready, dear.’
They had stayed on the line for another hour as Mary filled her in on how she was taking care of Irene, the elderly mother of a friend, so that Phyllis could have a well-earned break, and how she’d been busy with her vegetable garden and her cats and dogs, as well as helping out at the old farm with the greyhound sanctuary.
When Eve finally hung up, she’d been drained yet cautiously optimistic. It had been too long since she’d spoken to her aunt and she regretted not doing so sooner, just as she admitted to herself that she’d been trying to avoid the lovely warm woman because she’d feared having to dredge up all the emotions she’d been suppressing for so long. She also realized that she hadn’t found out about the mysterious Jack who’d answered the telephone. Knowing her aunt, it was probably just the milkman or a
delivery man. Never having had children of her own, Mary had always had a thing for waifs and strays, taking anything from three-legged cats to the widowed vicar under her warm, compassionate wing.
And now, thought Eve, here she was, on her way back to her second childhood home.
As she neared the end of her journey, she held her breath. Her belly filled with a thousand butterflies and she tensed as she drove over the brow of the hill, and there before her was Conwenna Cove.
The sea stretched out along the horizon for as far as she could see, sparkling in the warm May sunshine. She wound down the window and breathed deeply of the fresh air, filling her lungs greedily. Boats bobbed on the blue expanse and she saw a windsurfer carried quickly across the water’s surface. Seagulls soared above, swooping now and then to the harbour below, and as she descended the hill, she devoured the picture-perfect image of the village with its pastel cottages, its never-ending greenery and its familiar landmarks from the shiny red roof of the RNLI boathouse to the peaks of the cliffs that surrounded the cove.
She was overwhelmed suddenly by a deep sense of homesickness. Not for Bristol, or Conwenna Cove, or even her parents, but for Aunt Mary. She couldn’t wait to be reunited with the woman she’d been apart from for so long, or to try to make up for her own appalling neglect and for the precious lost time.
* * *
Jack Adams wiped a hand across his brow. The afternoon was warm and the physical labour was making him sweat. He was no stranger to manual work, but it was important that he got this right. Mary Harris had been so good to him since his arrival in the Cornish village six months ago and he liked helping her in return. Right now, he was sawing wood to make up three new raised beds for her back garden. Mary loved to grow her own fruit and veg and she was gradually teaching him about what to plant and when, as well as about the medicinal properties of certain plants. The old Jack, the man he was before his injury, would probably have been dismissive of such knowledge, regarding it as unimportant and irrelevant, but he knew now how precious life was and how even the smallest things that mattered to people were to be respected. A lot about him had changed over the years.
Summer at Conwenna Cove Page 2