Ella looks up from the hob which she has now moved on to scrubbing.
‘Is it OK if I borrow my daughter for a while?’
‘Of course!’
‘Come on, Ella, let’s go for a walk.’
The sun is warm on our shoulders as Ella follows me silently onto the beach. The sea is calm and full of sunshine, the storm of a few days ago a memory. I find a gathering of large rocks and sit down, gesturing for Ella to join me. We face out to sea together.
‘Are you going to shout at me now?’ Ella says quietly, pulling her legs up to her chest.
I sigh, looking at a dark shape wheeling above us. I recognise that elegant, powerful silhouette. An eagle. It lets out a sudden cry and I feel the sound reach deep into my chest and grip it as though the bird itself has wrapped talons around my heart. The sea stretches ahead of us, a shining mirror of gold in the morning light.
‘I don’t want to shout at you, darling. I’m just so relieved you’re OK. One day if you choose to become a mum too, you’ll understand what it’s like to worry that much about your child. You’ll also learn that just because you’re a mum, it doesn’t mean you always say or do the right thing. I’m sorry I upset you so much that you felt running away was the only option.’
‘I’m sorry we did it, Mum. I know it was stupid. I’m so sorry.’
She watches me carefully, fixing me with those brown eyes and I reach out and squeeze her shoulder.
‘I know you are, darling.’
I saw yesterday how terrified she looked when she curled up next to me in my bed, anxious to see me unwell. I hated seeing her so worried about me.
‘Not just for what we did though,’ she adds. ‘For what I said too. You know, the day before.’
She looks down now.
‘When I said that I didn’t have a family, I didn’t mean it, Mum.’
I swallow hard. All those photos of Ella growing up with just me for company, just me for support.
‘I do have a family,’ she says. ‘You’re my family. You’re an amazing family.’
I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, digging my nails into my palms to stop myself from crying. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be for her. But I think maybe it’s not enough. I look at my daughter closely and see how much she has changed over the past few years. Her face tells the story of her childhood but also reveals so much about the woman she is going to become. As each day passes there is more woman on her face and less child. She will always be my baby, but she is not a baby anymore. It’s been hard to accept, but I can finally see that now.
‘Thank you, darling. But maybe you weren’t entirely wrong. I know I should have realised this sooner, but it must be very lonely for you sometimes.’
I tried my best to give Ella all of my attention when she was little but sometimes she would still end up playing solitary games, reading alone or, more recently, listening to music in her bedroom by herself. I’ve always wished I could have given her a different kind of life – a bigger, fuller kind of life.
She nods at me.
‘Sometimes, I guess.’
‘Of course you wanted to find your cousin and wanted to stay here as long as possible. Of course you wanted to know your family. I’ve always told myself that I kept us apart to protect you, but I think maybe it was to protect myself too. I’ve found it harder than I expected coming back here, and I’m sorry that’s affected you.’
‘Why did you leave the island, Mum?’ she says now, a breeze lifting her curls around her shoulders. ‘And why didn’t you ever come back?’
It’s the question I’ve been avoiding answering for years and years. It’s the thing I’ve fled from and tried to protect my daughter from. But maybe she doesn’t need quite as much protecting as I always thought. Maybe what she needs instead is honesty. And maybe now, she’s old enough to hear it.
‘I didn’t have a very happy childhood here. My parents were very strict …’
I watch her face, working out how much to reveal, how much she can handle.
‘My father drank too much and he sometimes got angry. Really angry. It wasn’t a good environment to be in. I didn’t always feel safe.’
My daughter’s face clouds but she nods at me, urging me to continue.
‘Luckily, I had my friend Sarah and her family, they were always lovely to me. But I knew quite early on that I would one day have to get off the island and away from my parents. I tried to persuade your Uncle Jack to do the same, but we didn’t deal with the situation in the same way. We were very different.’
