‘Well, good for you. Where to next?’
‘The world is my oyster on the bus,’ Jeremy proclaimed. ‘Might see where your dad wants to go.’
‘He’d like that.’
Back at Oak Cottage, Nate went out to his workshop. Stock was depleting at a good rate despite adding to it along the way. It was strange to see the walls bereft of items stacked up and waiting to find an owner or purpose. He’d thought he’d be pleased to get to this stage but instead, he had an odd feeling, and rather than looking at it as an accomplishment, he was beginning to feel as though he might be losing something all over again. He ran a hand along the varnished blanket box, its beauty not lost on him. His mum would’ve loved it; she would’ve put all her blankets inside and probably rotated their use so she had an excuse to go back to the box and open and close it. He had no idea what to do with it now. All he knew was that it wasn’t something he would ever sell; it meant too much.
And now his creative urge was gnawing at him again. Once he was back in Wales, he didn’t have the space or the tools to do all of this. He needed to make the most of it while he could. He rummaged through some of the offcuts he had and found enough hard-wearing pieces to make a bird feeder that would put up enough fight against the elements to last. They’d had one in the garden a long time ago but never got round to replacing it when it broke. He measured, cut, lined up pieces, fixed things together until he had a feeder with a little roof that made it look like a miniature house with open sides to allow birds to perch but not bigger animals.
Outside, he took it over to the oak tree that held centre stage in their garden. His mum would approve of it for sure; she’d have enjoyed her favourite spot and watched the birds come and go. He found the branch he wanted, pretty sure the feeder they’d had when he was a boy had hung in near enough the same position, and he laughed to himself. He’d sneak some sort of bird food in the form of kitchen scraps onto it and see how long it took his dad to spot it.
Nate spent the rest of the day and early evening in the workshop, trying to take his mind off Morgan and the interview, a sinking feeling in his stomach that if she wasn’t offered a job, she would’ve come over and told him by now. Wouldn’t she?
He started work on a second bird feeder he could add to his stall this final Saturday and by the time he finished, it was growing dark, and when he went inside the house, his dad had already gone up to bed.
The next morning, Nate couldn’t stand it any longer. He had to know. One way or the other, he had to find out whether Morgan had been offered a job in a place that felt like it was a million miles away.
It worked out well that Trevor had already asked to take Branston for a long walk so he could spend as much time with him before he returned to Wales. Jeremy was going too so getting rid of the car was not only driving the man towards public transport, it was getting him walking more, which could only be a good thing. His dad was nimble, Jeremy wasn’t bad, but Nate swore his dad would be a lot slower at his age if he hadn’t kept up daily exploration of the village and its surrounds.
Nate headed out himself at a pace and when he reached Morgan’s home, he pushed open the gate to Forget-Me-Not Cottage. The postman behind him said a hello and Nate offered to take the bunch of letters and give them to Morgan. The letters felt like a prop that might help him enter into small talk rather than the real reason he’d come.
He knocked once, he knocked again. Maybe she was out and about. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful day and a group of kids had been playing Poohsticks on the humpback bridge, causing him to think about the first time he’d set eyes on Morgan Reese. It wasn’t something he’d forget easily.
‘Good morning, Nate.’ It was Nel, who ran the pizza place on the high street with her husband André. She came walking up the path as Nate was peering in the lounge window, hands cupped around his eyes to get a better view inside.
‘I’m not staking out the place,’ he said awkwardly. ‘Promise.’
She took some keys from her bag and jangled them in front of him. ‘These might make it easier. You been assigned the post?’ She noted the pile of letters in his hand. And before he could ask what she meant byassigned, she was putting the key in the front door. ‘I got Marley. I’d say you got the easy job. I’ve heard he needs to learn some more road sense. I’m paranoid he’ll go missing on my watch.’
‘I’m sorry, what are you talking about?’
‘Morgan, she’s asked me to look after the cat. Here he is.’ Her voice altered an octave as if the cat wouldn’t understand her otherwise. She bent down and scooped the feline into her arms as he met them at the door.
‘Has Morgan gone out?’ Nate was confused now.
Nel was obviously a tiny bit in love with the cat, the way she kept rubbing her face against its fur. ‘Morgan’s away,’ she told him when he finally had her attention again. ‘I thought you’d know, with the markets and everything.’
‘I don’t know anything.’
She looked worried now. ‘She’s a grown woman but I think when Elaina died, we all made it our mission to look out for her.’
‘You were good friends?’ He hadn’t realised.
‘We were. Elaina supported me when I was sick. I would’ve done the same, but she loved that Morgan had come home for her. Looking after Marley is the least I can do now.’ She paused as if remembering the purpose of their conversation. ‘I’m sure Morgan is fine.’
Nate was still confused. ‘You said she’s away? What do you mean by away?’
‘She’s gone.’
‘Gone where?’
‘To Scotland.’
Nate had heard people say their heart sank at disappointing or bad news but he’d never thought it was physically possible and yet that was exactly how he felt now. It was as though his own heart had plummeted to the floor.
He passed her the batch of letters from the postman. ‘Could you put these inside?’
‘Sure. See you around,’ she called after him, although he was already halfway down the path.
