‘No.’
How would our lives have been different if Jack did leave? We would never have met. Molly wouldn’t exist. But would he have had a bigger, bolder kind of life? Would he have felt free? Or was he always destined to stay on the island? I think of our friends, our community. And then I try to picture him in a tiny apartment in London with Lorna, traffic blaring outside their window, no sea, no sheep, no mountain. I can see why Lorna left. But I can also see why Jack stayed. I just can’t picture him in a city; I think he would have hated it.
‘I’ve always been so grateful that Jack is nothing like either of his parents,’ I tell her.
Because he might pull back from me sometimes, disappearing into his own thoughts. But he never shouts. At first it was a shock for me after growing up with two very vocal sisters. But eventually his quietness became a relief. He is gentle and I am so grateful for that.
We’ve reached the farm now and I pull up outside the house and turn off the engine. Lorna’s head is slightly bowed, her hair falling in front of her face.
‘I know he’s been giving you a hard time,’ I say, turning to my sister-in-law, ‘but he’s a good man. He’s a good husband, and a good father. I think he’s just missed his sister.’
She lets out a small, animal-like sound.
‘I’ve missed so much. Too much, I think.’
She turns and looks at me now, her grey eyes swimming. I can’t help but feel sorry for her. I reach out a hand and squeeze her arm.
‘You’re here now.’
She nods her head, wiping her eyes.
‘Thank you for being so kind to me. I’m so pleased to have finally met you. And I so want to make it right with him, Alice. I know there’s nothing I can do about what’s already happened and all the time that’s passed. But I at least want to make things better. I really do.’
I turn my head towards the fields and she follows my gaze.
‘Then tell him that,’ I say in a soft voice. Slowly, she nods.
Chapter 13
Lorna
I find Jack in the polytunnel. His back is to me and he faces a wall of runner beans, their stalks clinging to bamboo stakes in the soil. He reaches carefully among the delicate plants and plucks off the beans, dropping them one by one into a large bowl. It’s warm in the tunnel and the air smells sweet and earthy. I step forward in order to watch my brother more closely. But my shoe catches a stack of pots I hadn’t noticed and sends them falling to the ground. Jack turns around quickly. For a second his face is open and poised for a smile, but then it shuts down again, his lips pressing tightly together. I suppose he was hoping for Alice or Molly, not me.
‘Hello, Jack.’
He ignores me and turns back to the beans. Maybe I should leave. I could head back inside and find Ella and Molly and see what they’re up to. I feel like I’ve barely seen Ella since we’ve arrived and it feels strange, given how much time we usually spend with one another. I could join Alice for a cup of tea in the warm kitchen. But Jack is in here and I desperately want to be with my brother. Even if it’s hard.
I rearrange the fallen pots and step further into the polytunnel. With one hand I brush the leafy tops of the carrots in a bed beside me. I can picture them buried beneath the surface, grown from seeds by my brother, checked and watered and nurtured with care.
I never imagined that he would grow up to become a farmer. Jack never really had one particular career ambition when we were growing up. He went through phases of course, like all children. At first, he wanted to be an astronaut.
‘You need to be a genius to be an astronaut,’ I remember our father saying.
Then it was a football player.
‘How many famous Scottish football players do you know?’ was our father’s response. The names Jack listed made no difference to his opinion. ‘What kind of a job is that, kicking a ball for a living?’
I think that maybe he couldn’t stand the thought of our dreams when his own career ended so early. Another person might have pushed us harder, wanting us to enjoy and achieve what he never could. But what happened to our father made him jaded, angry at the thought of others’ success.
For a while, Jack wanted to be a train driver but like most other job options, that would mean leaving the island. And although we sometimes daydreamed together about sunny holidays or going backpacking together, deep down I felt sure that Jack would never leave it for good. For him, those daydreams of ours always seemed like just that. But for me, they were so much more. The thought of leaving and getting away was the thing that drove me just as strongly as my need to draw and paint.
I think back to the pride I felt in the car earlier when Alice told me about Jack’s dedication to the land here and how he learned about farming from the other islanders and through practice. I feel that pride again now, standing inside what feels like my brother’s green kingdom. I watch his back as he continues along the line of runner beans. Just like when I first arrived, I imagine reaching over and placing a hand on his shoulder. It would be so easy. All I have to do is reach out my hand. And yet it also feels like the hardest thing in the world.
‘I know you’d rather I weren’t here. I know this is hard, on all of us, but I think we should talk.’
He says nothing. Outside, a sheep bleats. I jump slightly, the sound so different from the noises I’m used to hearing back at home. At what point in my life did the sound of sirens and traffic become more familiar and comfortable to me than the sound of sheep and the ocean?
‘I’d really love it if we could spend some time together while I’m here.’
