‘A slight change of plans,’ replies Alice. ‘Molly and I are going to stay here and get the final things ready for the party, but Mallachy’s got a birthday treat sorted for you and Ella.’
That’s when my eyes look beyond Mallachy and outside, following the track down to the beach. There moored in the water is Mallachy’s boat. Ella seems to spot it at the same time too and lets out a squeal of delight.
‘Are we really going out on the boat?’
‘If you’d like,’ Mallachy says quietly, but he is smiling broadly, as though Ella’s excitement is contagious.
‘Are you sure that’s OK, Alice?’ I ask. ‘I feel bad leaving you with the last bits of prep …’
But she shakes her head with a smile.
‘We’ve got it all under control, haven’t we, Molly?’
So we fetch our things and head down to the beach. It’s strange to watch Ella and Mallachy chatting as we make our way to the tiny rowing boat that is pulled up on the sand. She asks him countless questions about the boat. I walk behind them, watching. They seem to be getting on well, and I smile, fighting off the anxiety that lurks beneath. My holiday fling, my daughter and I together in a boat? It should make me nervous. But the sun is shining and Ella is so very happy. I decide to be happy too.
Mallachy rows us out to his boat which is anchored a little way out from the beach, and helps us on board. His hand is warm in mine as he reaches for me.
‘Right, let me show you around!’
Ella follows eagerly but I linger behind. It feels like my first time on board – last time was so frantic and traumatic it feels like it doesn’t count. Today, I’m thankful that the sky is blue and the breeze gentle. Ella continues to chatter away as Mallachy starts the engine, showing her what he’s doing. I feel a swell of movement in my stomach as the boat sets off, out towards open sea.
As Mallachy and Ella busy themselves with the actual steering and running of the boat, I sit at the back and watch the beach and the farm receding behind us. I look up at the farmhouse, picking out the window of my yellow room. I spot the silhouette of my brother in the sheep field.
The boat rolls over gentle waves, salty spray occasionally whipped up over its sides and dampening my arms and hair. The sun is warm against my face and I let myself close my eyes for a moment, listening as Mallachy and Ella continue to chat behind me. I can’t believe that my daughter is fourteen. Is she happy with her life so far? Have I done a good job? I know I could have done better. And I’m not sure that I will ever stop worrying about her and her happiness. Even when she is forty, not fourteen. But right now, her voice sounds cheerful and light. When I open my eyes, I glance at Mallachy and he holds my gaze. I try to send him a silent thank you for putting on this day for my daughter. He smiles back and I hope he has understood.
Once we are a little way out to sea Mallachy guides the boat leisurely around the circumference of the island. We drift out to face the lighthouse and peer up at the cliffs.
Mallachy hands Ella a pair of binoculars.
‘Take a look up at the cliffs. Look closely, now.’
There’s a pause as Ella fixes her gaze up and ahead. And then she lets out a cry.
‘Mum, look!’
She hands me the binoculars.
‘I never thought I’d see them in real life!’
Her camera clicks as she lifts it from around her neck and trains it on the clifftop. I watch her for a second, her face scrunched in concentration as she takes the photographs. She holds the camera away from her for a moment and her eyes are lit up with pure joy.
I take the binoculars and train them on the cliffs. Patches of grass and flowers cling to the rocks. And suddenly I spot them. A flash of black and white, the distinctive orange and grey of curved beaks.
‘Puffins!’ says Ella, and I hand her back the binoculars with a smile.
‘I heard they were your favourite,’ says Mallachy. Before he can do anything about it, Ella is leaping forwards and wrapping her arms around him. He holds her awkwardly to his side for a moment before relaxing slightly and hugging her back. I grin at him and he grins back. Oh, he’s done good.
‘Thank you,’ Ella says as she steps back from him and picks up the binoculars again. ‘Thank you so, so much.’
As Ella watches the puffins for a little longer I look up at the lighthouse. I spent so much time exploring the white tower and the flaking, slightly decrepit cottage as a child. It was my place to escape to. In a way, the lighthouse always felt like my lighthouse. Seeing it from this angle I can’t help but feel a possessive pull towards it, a sense that I don’t want to drift too far from the sight of that white tower.
Eventually, once Ella has taken hundreds of photographs, Mallachy brings the boat closer into the shore and we hug the coastline for a while, following it along to the caves. Every now and then Mallachy brushes alongside me and I feel that now familiar burst of heat rippling through my body.
It’s so hard to be so close to him and yet unable to touch him. I almost reach for his hand but stop myself just in time.
All week, Mallachy and I have avoided the topic of what will happen when I leave tomorrow after Ella’s party. It’s a thought that’s sat beside us in the studio and is here on board this boat too, but I do my best to push it away. I don’t want to ruin things by pulling a cloud over our sunshine.
As we approach the entrance to the first cave Ella is so focused on looking upwards to take in the dripping, cavernous roof that I dare a quick brush of my lips against Mallachy’s cheek.
