‘So, you’ve got the secondary-school jitters,’ said Jean. ‘Everyone gets them.’
‘I didn’t want to let Olive go either,’ Sarah added. ‘And that first day when I waved her goodbye on the ferry … I’m not going to lie, it was awful. But now she’s settled there and she’s happy. She’s made new friends and she really enjoys the independence. And when she comes back home she seems even happier to be here. She even lets Alfie play with her.’
We all laughed then.
‘I’ve watched your Molly grow up,’ chipped in Jean. ‘She’s a really resilient little girl – I know it must be hard but these new stages in their lives are opportunities for the children to flourish. And she will, Alice, I truly believe she will.’
‘It’s tough letting go,’ said Sarah. ‘But I see how happy and confident Olive is now. I don’t think I’ll ever be pleased about seeing her go off on that boat but she’s happy and that’s the most important thing. Besides, what choice do we really have? Tell me honestly, do you really want to move to the mainland? To start all over again?’
They both looked at me then and I realised that Sarah was right. I was dreading Molly leaving but I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to leave our house, our beach, my friends. This island may not be where I imagined I would end up when I was younger, but it has become my home.
Despite Molly’s excitement about the new chapter in her life and the new freedoms it would involve, I knew she had her reservations too. We both cried that first day when she left. But over time I came to see what Sarah and Jean promised I would. My daughter getting used to the new way of things and eventually becoming happy, more independent and somehow surer of herself.
‘It was a bit strange at first,’ Molly tells Lorna. ‘Especially being away from home all week. But it’s been nice to meet other people too. Some of my mainland friends are coming to visit the island soon. That’ll be really cool.’
Lorna nods, smiling. But there’s something else to her expression too, a certain sense of regret. Jack never really explained to me why he and Lorna stayed at home rather than going to the mainland school like everyone else. I never thought he particularly minded it, but when I was having my wobble about Molly I raised home-schooling her as an option. Really, I had no idea how I’d do it. I’m far from academic, how would I possibly teach my own child? But I felt so desperate I was willing to try. But when I mentioned it Jack shook his head.
‘No,’ he said firmly, ‘I won’t trap her like that. We have to let her have her freedom, Alice, even if it’s hard.’
And like an extra jigsaw piece fitting into place I felt like I suddenly understood my husband and his story a little better.
‘Can you remember anything else about Dad?’ Molly asks.
Lorna glances outside, her expression distant.
‘He loved searching for shells and driftwood. Whenever we walked on the beach we would search for things together. I always gave him my best finds – a particularly beautiful shell, a bit of smooth glass. When I gave them to him you’d think he’d just been given a new bike or something. If I was ever on the beach without him I’d keep my eyes wide open, searching for things he might like.’
Molly’s eyes light up.
‘He still does that! One second …’
She disappears but is back a few moments later, clutching the small wooden box that usually lives in our living room, by the TV.
‘He calls it his treasure box,’ Molly says, handing it over. I watch as Lorna traces her hand over the lid and carefully opens it. Slowly she removes object after object, turning them over in her hands. A circular pebble the colour of a raincloud. A smooth white shell the shape of a baby’s ear, the inside perfectly pink. A shard of jade sea-glass. A coin, smoothed so flat by the sea that it is impossible to tell to which currency it once belonged. I’ve never really understood why Jack keeps all this stuff, but looking at Lorna I notice that her eyes have grown misty.
‘Thank you for showing me this, Molly,’ she says, placing the items gently back inside and closing the lid. ‘I have a similar collection back at home. It used to be our thing, collecting this stuff together. I had no idea he still did it though.’
‘Shall we go?’ comes a voice at the doorway. Ella is standing there, a backpack over her shoulders. Molly springs up with a smile.
‘Yes, let’s go. See you later, Mum and Auntie Lorna.’
I want to ask Lorna more about Jack when he was younger but she is standing up too.
‘I might go out for a walk if you don’t mind?’
‘That’s fine, I’ve got some work to do here.’
‘I can stay and help if you like?’
‘No, you go, it’s fine.’
She nods.
‘OK. I think I left my shoes upstairs though.’
Once she’s gone my eyes fall on a bag on the table that I hadn’t noticed before. I spot what looks like a jumper spilling out of it, but it doesn’t look like anything Lorna owns. It’s a heavy knit, rust-red. It looks vaguely familiar. There’s a piece of paper half-sticking out too.
I know it’s terrible. I know I’m being nosey. But I just can’t help myself. Glancing towards the corridor I reach across and lift the corner of the paper, taking a quick peek.
