‘Oh, don’t you worry,’ she says to the shivering, whining puppy, ‘Rex is a big softie, despite what he likes to tell you with that bark of his.’
The words seem to quieten the puppy.
‘Time to go down,’ says Brenda, turning for the steps that lead into the belly of the boat.
We collect our bags from a crate at the back of the boat and wait as the cars and post van drive off and up the concrete slope. Once the vehicles have disembarked we follow. Water laps up over the ferry ramp. I watch as the young couple jump over the water and onto dry land, their hands linked tightly together. Brenda stomps through the seawater. I hadn’t noticed that she was wearing wellies. I suddenly feel foolish for not thinking through this part of the journey. Ella and I are both in lightweight trainers. We watch the water, waiting for it to draw back.
‘Now!’ shouts Ella. We run forwards, dragging our suitcases off the ramp and onto the shore just as the wave laps behind us, getting the underbellies of our suitcases wet but luckily nothing more. A length of seaweed wraps itself round one of the wheels of my suitcase. I give it a shake.
As we walk up the ramp my eyes move rapidly along the jetty. A crowd has gathered around Brenda and the puppy. Nearby, the young couple meet and shake hands with a young woman who leads them away to her car. The jetty is alive with movement and noise. But among all the movement my eyes are drawn to the man who stands completely still beside an old green hatchback splattered with mud, arms crossed in front of his chest. Two figures stand beside him, a tall, smiling woman in a denim boiler suit and a bright red silk scarf, her dark hair worn in a long plait and a girl who is slim like her mother but with a round face and grey eyes. She is dressed in denim shorts, blue wellies and a T-shirt printed with the slogan ‘Save the Sea’. I watch as Ella dashes towards this girl, the pair of them squealing and launching themselves into a hug.
I stand frozen still, looking at the man beside them. He watches me with his pebble-grey eyes, his eyebrows scrunched in a frown. My heart stretches against the constraint of my ribcage. His face might be slightly lined, his hair peppered with grey and short, the curls of our childhood gone. But I recognise him straight away. Of course I do. He’s my little brother.
Chapter 8
Alice
They look so alike, my niece and my sister-in-law. The same wild auburn hair, milky skin and petite frame. Except Ella has nut-brown eyes. Lorna’s are my husband’s exactly.
Lorna and Jack stare at each other, neither one moving. I want to nudge my husband forwards but instead I turn first to my niece, unable to hold myself back any longer. She and Molly have just stepped apart from a tight embrace and I reach for Ella’s shoulders.
‘Let me look at you.’
She blushes as I run my eyes over her, taking her in. I remember when I met my other niece and nephews for the first time. I fell instantly in love with those little babies that my sisters had so magnificently created. Looking at Ella I feel a strange mix of emotions. Jack shares genes with this girl. Other than Molly and her future children, this is likely to be the only child I’ll ever meet who does. I hug her tightly.
‘Well aren’t you gorgeous,’ I tell her as we step apart. Her cheeks burn even brighter but she smiles, hiding slightly behind a curl of hair that falls in front of her face.
‘Sorry,’ I say now, turning towards Lorna instead. ‘I’m Alice, it’s so nice to finally meet you.’
She looks somewhat stunned as I pull her into a hug too. I just can’t help it. This is Jack’s sister. At first, she feels stiff against me but then she relaxes and hugs me back.
‘It’s really nice to meet you too.’
The jetty has cleared now, returning locals and arriving visitors heading to The Lookout or out across the island. It’s just the five of us and the two suitcases. I throw a look at Jack, urging him to say something. But he is still leaning against the car, arms folded. Lorna stares at him too, her expression pained.Come on! Either of you, say something!
My sister-in law turns back to me.
‘Thanks so much for meeting us, it’s really kind of you. Is there any chance you’d be able to drop us at the B&B, or shall we try and get a taxi? If there’s still a taxi on the island that is.’
There is still a taxi, a beat-up old Volvo driven by Pat Campbell’s husband Bob and used mostly in the summer by tourists. But there’ll be no need to use his services today. I feel my own cheeks warming now.
‘Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but when Molly told us you’d booked the B&B we called up and cancelled. You’re family. You’re staying with us.’
Lorna’s expression tells me it might have been a mistake.
‘Oh,’ is all she can manage. Ella, meanwhile, is beaming, her arm linked through my daughter’s. At least those two look happy. It makes my heart swell to see them together.
Seeing Lorna’s worried expression again though I glance at Jack, suddenly nervous. Perhaps this was all a bad idea.
‘That’s right isn’t it, Jack?’
In silence, he turns towards the car.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ he says quietly. I smile nervously at Lorna.
‘Let me help you with your bag.’
Together, we load the cases into the boot. I try to take in more details about my sister-in-law. She wears slim-fitting jeans, trainers and a sporty-looking top. Her face is free from much make-up apart from a light coating of mascara. Her physique makes me think of regular exercise although she doesn’t strike me somehow as someone who is particularly interested in her appearance: her look is practical and simple. She is four years older than Jack and there are the beginnings of lines between her eyebrows and around her mouth. Despite her tired, serious expression she is beautiful, her hair and her face striking. I can’t stop thinking of Jack as I look at her though – I keep noticing other touches of him. The small but ever so slightly protruding ears which she frequently tucks her hair behind. A very slight dimple in her chin that my husband shares and that I’ve rested my finger on countless times, feeling the soft dip of his skin.
