Calmly, he took both of her hands inside his. ‘You can do anything. I believe that.’ Gone was all humour; his face and tone were serious as he held her gaze. ‘Do you trust me?’
‘I think so.’ The quaver to her voice was hard to disguise as fear lapped at her heels.
‘Then we can do this together. We can do anything together. Needle, mate, we’re ready for whatever adventure awaits!’
He gripped her hand tightly as, pulse racing, she made her way down the slipway and climbed clumsily into the rib on legs that felt like jelly.
‘Welcome aboard!’ Needle handed her a life jacket that she placed over her neck and which he fastened for her. ‘You’re all set. It’s a perfect day for it, Taw. No need to fret, my lovely.’
‘Where are we going?’ Ed sat down next to her on the bench, which she was gripping tightly, holding on for all she was worth,letting her body roll with the swell of the waves in the harbour. The solidity of the man she loved sitting next to her did much to calm her.
‘We’re going to Lundy.’ She blinked. ‘I’m taking you to Lundy.’ She let the words fall from her mouth.
Lundy.The place that had been a fixation ever since her dad had died, the place where his boatErmesthad turned up. The great lump of land visible on the horizon, when the mist and fog allowed, and where, when the mood or melancholy took her, she believed her dad might live, hiding in a cave, or rescued by selkies or mermaids, taken to live in a watery world in its outer edges, trapped.
‘I’m scared,’ she admitted.
‘It’s going to be okay, I promise. We are off to Lundy!’ Ed sat close to her as Needle expertly manoeuvred the vessel out of the harbour, then turning west towards Hartland Point he picked up speed. The boat bobbed over the crests of the waves and she had to admit that while it wasn’t the most comfortable means of transport, it was quite thrilling. Her fear began to dissipate, yet still she held on for dear life.
‘Look!’ It was twenty minutes into the journey when they were joined by a porpoise swimming alongside. ‘That’s luck right there!’ Needle sat tall with his hands on the wheel and the morning sun lighting the face of a man who knew contentment.
‘So, you enjoyed the Gunn Fire then?’ she teased.
His grin was infectious. ‘Reckon it’s the second-best night of my life!’ he shouted into the morning light.
‘What was the best?’ Ed, like her, was curious.
‘Well, I haven’t had it yet! But it’ll be my wedding day, when I can walk down the aisle with Mrs Constance Threader-Smith.’
‘Your surname is Threader-Smith! So that’s why everyone calls you Needle!’ She laughed loudly.
‘I thought you knew that!’ he shouted over the sound of the spray hitting the hull.
‘What’s your first name?’ Again Ed was on the same page.
‘Sebastian,’ Needle offered without irony.
‘Your name’s Sebastian?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘No reason.’ She bit the inside of her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud but knew that she would have great pleasure in telling Connie that she was going to one day be Mrs Sebastian Threader-Smith. Now that was a wanker-name if ever she’d heard one!
As Lundy grew bigger and the boat slowed, Tawrie felt the fold of anxiety in her gut. Her eyes scanned the shallower waters where rocks gathered and the cliffs rose up to the green-covered headland where puffins idled and squawked, chatting no doubt to the seal who swam and sang in the water below. Tawrie was thoughtful, wondering if this was her dad’s last sight, this beautiful, beautiful island.
The three were quiet as Needle came alongside the slipway and she and Ed climbed out. It was a moment of trepidation, wondering how she might feel, but this was matched by her delight to have her feet once again on solid ground. He took her hand and with her backpack on his shoulder, the two started to climb the steep path up from the quay.
‘What are you going to do, Needle?’ she called back, grateful for the ride and worrying a little about abandoning him, while at the same time relishing the thought of time alone with Ed.
‘I’m off to the Marisco Tavern. They do a bloody good breakfast!’
His continual optimism, his energy, was, she thought, a good thing for Connie, and for Sonny and Gary too. It was the kind of nature that would make it easier when life threw them a curveball, as she knew it could.
She was aware that sometimes in life an experience or destination is built up in your mind so the reality is never a match for the perfection you have created. Lundy, for her, was the opposite. The island was quiet, without traffic to clutter up the paths or add to the cacophony of life, but it was more than that. With only sporadic internet and phone signal, gone was the underlying hum of connection. There was no chatter of people, only the bleat of goats and the sound of the sheep munching the cud. Waves broke against the bottom of the cliffs and the overwhelming feeling was one of peace. She’d heard the word magical frequently used by visitors to her little town, but this place wrapped her in magic. No wonder she had thought it possible that her dad might be living here among all manner of mythical sea creatures.
After following the coastal path and walking for forty minutes, taking in the breathtaking scenery and letting the gentle wind blow out their cobwebs, they finally came to a stop at Battery Point with a stunning view of the island on both sides.
Ed sat and she plopped down next to him as the sun broke through the cloud.
