Romy shrugged, not looking the least bit offended at my clumsy words. “There is. I don’t know what will happen. I know everyone in Puffin Bay and this side of the island and having a kid means you can’t get out and meet people in the same way.” Her smile wasn’t as strong. “And I’m not sure I’m ready yet. They don’t have a manual for widows, unfortunately.”
I was walking in unfamiliar territory. I had friends who’d been divorced and separated, seen some horrible decapitations of relationships that’d once flourished and been the source of envy, but I hadn’t known someone of a similar age to me whose spouse had died.
“Maybe you could write one.” It felt a lame thing to say, but unfamiliar territory.
Romy smiled, this time I could tell she was amused. “I could. If I could write anything. And I think everyone’s journey's different. I went to a grief support group a few months after Joel died and I still keep in touch with some of the people from it. I went to the wedding of one of them last year; her husband had died the same day as Joel so we kind of bonded. She met someone three years ago, and now they’re married and she has a baby on the way, which is great; I wouldn’t have been able to work that timeline.”
I nodded, searching for the right words to say, and coming up empty.
“I’m not looking for sympathy.” She shook her head slightly. “Ready, girls?”
Heidi nodded, Mia running behind her. “I think I need more shells.”
“Really?” Romy frowned. “I’m not sure there are any left on the beach.”
“Don’t be silly, Mummy, there are lots more on the beach.” Heidi shook her head in disgust at her mother’s lack of knowledge.
“Where’s the best beach, Heidi?” I might as well plunder her for more information.
She looked serious as she thought about it. “Buchan is good and I like Red Wharf Bay. But I like Newborough best.”
“Newborough has wild horses on it.” Mia spoke up, taking hold of Romy’s hand. “I’ve only been once.”
Romy frowned at her. “You’ve only been once?”
Mia nodded. “With school.”
“Oh, okay,” Romy gave a nod. “Maybe we can go tomorrow morning if the tide’s out and you can hunt for any more shells that you need.”
“What are you doing with the shells?” I braved what the answers would be. Kids this age liked to give you the finer details of everything usually.
They did. Between them, in the five minutes it took us to walk into the town, I was given an extensive description as to what they were going to do, which was make a shell mural.
“Mummy’s going to draw a mermaid and a fish and an octopus and we’re going to stick the shells on.” Heidi added more information than I probably needed to know.
Romy looked entertained with what I’d gotten myself into. Fortunately, we were at the cakery, and Heidi’s focus went to what was in the window.
“What is this place apart from where you buy cakes?” I studied the building. It was an old pub, a large one at that, three storeys in total and looked recently renovated.
“It's a community centre where some of the local crafters and businesses sell their wares. The book club and the stitch and bit – talking. Talking.” She suppressed a laugh, her eyes glinting at nearly swearing in front of the girls. “There’s a bigger community centre next to the hotel where the scouts and guides meet, and the local amateur dramatics group – you could get involved with them, if you liked that sort of thing.” That teasing tone was back.
“I do enough am-dram at work in assemblies.” I wasn’t a good actor. I could sing okay, but anything else like that wasn’t a strength.
Romy headed for a table with a reserved sign on it and her name, the other tables all full. Another couple of kids waved at me, looking excited to see me although that effect would wear off at some point. The novelty of the new head teacher being seen in the town would fade away.
“What do you recommend?” I sat down next to Romy, the two girls opposite us, children's menus snapped up from the holder in the middle. “What should I choose?”
“Death by chocolate,” Heidi grinned, looking so much like her mother. “Can I have that, Mummy?”
“You can this time.” She glanced at me. “Don’t judge me; it’s the most sugar-filled thing on the menu and it’s so unhealthy, but it’s so nice.”
“Is that what you’re having too?”
She shook her head. “I want something with strawberries and cream. Mia, what do you want?”
Mia shook her head. “Nothing, thank you.”
Romy gave me another quick glance. No child would turn down anything in here, and probably few adults too.
