She couldn’t put off going to the doctor forever, but she had to for now.
Bad news could wait.
She sat a while longer until she had the energy to go upstairs and make up the girls’ beds in the hope that they might come. She wanted to be prepared if they did, even though there was every chance they might not. She hadn’t done anything with the girls’ bedrooms since they’d permanently left the island. The truth was she’d been devastated at her own shortcomings, her failure to make them happy enough to stay here, and so she’d left the rooms exactly how they were. She barely came up here unless it was to open the windows and get the air circulating a bit, because when she did it made her too sad.
In Susanna’s bedroom she finished sorting the bedding and pushed the last of the pillows into its case and sat down on the edge of the bed. She’d tried so hard to make the girls happy, but had she tried hard enough? The Sweet Life Café was her joy, and she knew the girls thought she was there an awful lot, but it was how she kept a roof over their heads, and it was how she was able to take care of them all. Financial commitments sprang up when least expected: a new school uniform if one of the girls outgrew theirs; a school excursion to pay for; Addie wanted to play piano and lessons weren’t cheap; Susanna asked for a hamster as a pet and whilst a hamster wasn’t expensive it was at a time when money was incredibly tight. Gayle had forked out for all the accessories because saying no to Susanna would be just another thing to come between them. Gayle had only been thankful that the girls didn’t want to get a dog. Maybe they did, but they just knew it would be a big ask. Some days she waited for Susanna to make the request just to see what she’d do because Susanna, unlike Addie, seemed more determined that this arrangement of theirs was not a long-term solution. If Gayle told her the sky was blue on a gloriously sunny day, Susanna would’ve told her it was purple.
Gayle knew it was harder for Susanna to settle more than it was for Addie because in order for Gayle to work, she needed someone to watch Addie before she was at an age where she no longer needed it. Gayle had tried to find a childminder but hadn’t had any luck, and it was also something she could barely afford. And so she’d had to ask Susanna to help out a lot. It had been just another thing to come between them.
Addie had always been a little more amenable than her sister and it became more noticeable when Susanna left for university. Addie had been so upset that day and for the first time Gayle had been able to give her the comfort a mother might have done, the sort of comfort Susanna had been providing until she was no longer there.
After Susanna left, Gayle and Addie had jumbled along together, they’d laughed and joked in the cottage, they’d watched television, and they’d baked. Gayle had started buying baking accessories for Addie’s Christmases and birthdays, and if Susanna thought she was trying to model Addie into another version of her, thankfully she never said so. One year Addie had made the Christmas pudding and Susanna had been so proud of her sister, she’d even had three helpings.
Addie’s love of baking became more apparent when she started experimenting – a different type of sponge cake, a new flavour of icing, varieties of dried fruits in place of what Gayle used, ingredients Gayle might not have considered. But every time Susanna came to the island to visit her sister, Addie backed off a little and she wouldn’t set foot in the Sweet Life Café for days. Her change of behaviour never failed to remind Gayle of Addie’s loyalty to her older sister and the promise that she had made to Harry.
She looked at the walls of Susanna’s room – still blue, but not the wonderfully aqua shade they’d once been, rather a faded version with a number of cracks and chipped paint in parts. She went into Addie’s room and made up her bed. In here the lip-gloss pink of her walls was less vibrant with every day that passed in her absence. Her gaze fell to the little vase of pink asters she’d put on the bedside table. An identical vase was filled with blue asters in Susanna’s room. They were little touches that would likely go unnoticed. If they even came.
Being a parent to those girls – if only for a short time – had been hard, but it had given her joy too. She wondered whether they remembered any of it. Would they remember playing in the garden at the cottage, making a den out of cardboard boxes Gayle brought home from work? Would they remember shopping trips where they’d buy new clothes for the season and have a fast-food lunch as a treat? Would they remember cycling around the island, carefree and smiling and laughing so much that locals began to call themthose Rafferty girls?
She went downstairs and without enough energy to make a proper dinner she settled for a ham and cheese sandwich, which she didn’t even finish.
She remained at the kitchen table until the room grew dark.
And at nine o’clock she gave up.
The girls weren’t coming today.
Maybe they weren’t even coming at all.
8
ADDIE
Susanna was as quiet as Addie as the boat drew in to the harbour at Anchor Island. Already Addie got the impression that not much would have changed on this island, with little to no traffic, the only transportation allowed being the minibus from the harbour, deliveries or bicycles for residents. She wasn’t sure why she thought that, she just did.
‘Ready?’ Susanna asked as they joined the queue to get off the boat.
‘Not really.’ It felt so monumental, it felt as if Susanna should be taking her hand so they could leap together.
As her feet stepped onto the solidity of the island, lights twinkled in the darkness from the roadside and from up the hill and beyond. Some of those lights would belong to Bay Street, she was sure of it.
Despite the darkness, Addie could tell the island, the place they’d once called home, had never lost any of its prettiness. She looked around to take in everything that she possibly could. A small boat was coming into the visitor moorings marked out with yellow buoys and enough light from the marina to guide them. A couple of holidaymakers hurried past with their suitcases in a quest to get on the minibus first, while someone else rushed towards them to greet a fellow passenger. As they reached the road where the minibus waited, a trio of young boys cycled past. Their lights warned of their presence and illuminated their legs going ten to the dozen, in a gear too low for the flat ground after the hill had brought them down to the harbour. A couple of gulls pecked at something discarded on the ground beside them as they walked, and smiles on faces suggested this wasn’t such a bad place after all.
It was the end of another day on the island. This life could’ve been theirs if they’d wanted it to be, and the thought made Addie sad that things hadn’t turned out differently.
She had a sudden thought as a man called out from the boat that had come into the marina. ‘I wonder if Mateo is over there.’
Susanna made a face and didn’t turn her gaze in the direction of the boatyard. ‘Who knows. He left, remember? I’ve no idea if he came back. He always used to talk about sailing boats across the world. He could be in France, Italy, America, the Canaries, the Caribbean… anywhere.’
Addie wondered whether Susanna really believed that. His family were here, or at least they had been, and it was quite likely that would’ve drawn him back.
‘I’d rather walk than get the minibus,’ said Susanna.
‘Me too. It’s packed already,’ she said, watching another holidaymaker squeeze on board. The doors would soon close and everyone else would have to fend for themselves unless they had a second minibus these days.
‘Actually, would you mind if we went and sat down near the fish and chip place? I don’t think I’m ready for this either. I just want to grab something to eat after the crossing.’
‘Good idea.’ They started to walk. ‘Hope it’s still as good as it used to be.’ They could see it was still there, like a beacon for anyone arriving by sea or for locals coming down from the surrounding streets.
