‘I owe us that,’ she whispered, barely trusting herself to get the words out. It had been a revelation, his awareness of the fear she had thought she held in secret; she felt exposed, afraid, and relieved all at once.
He nodded. She concentrated on her roses, a great prop to channel her emotion and help hold back the tears.
‘You’re right on both counts.’ He knew her inside out. ‘I do avoid the place, the topic. I was always happy to let the rental company deal with the holiday lets and whatnot, but never felt the need to go back. I fear it might be too painful. As you say, the opening of old wounds and all that.’
‘Also ...’ He took a step towards her and smiled into her face, a lingering look of love that warmed her still after all these years. ‘I’ve always thought the way you coped, having your life torpedoed by things outside of your control, is remarkable. You are remarkable, but also ...’
‘Also what?’ she asked with a nervous crack to her voice.
‘I suspect there are elements that you hide, hurt that you mask, fears you don’t share, a brave face that you paint on that you don’t have to.’
‘We all do that, don’t we?’
‘To a degree, but I think you need to face it head on, face it all. I think maybe you should ...’
‘Should what?’ She lowered the hose to hear better.
‘Should go back, lay some ghosts to rest. And maybe it would be good to take Bear. He needs closure one way or another when it comes to this girl. We don’t know if he’s fallen for her or whether she’s an escape hatch that’s taken him away from marrying Petra, which he clearly felt press-ganged into, either way.’
‘You are wise, Charles, wise and kind. I feel very lucky to have you.’
‘Quite right too. I’m what’s known as a catch, Mrs Wentworth!’ He did a clumsy twirl and she felt a rush of love for him.
‘Maybe I’ll ask Bear.’
‘Maybe you’ll ask Bear what?’
They both turned at the sound of her eldest coming out of the back door from the kitchen and into the garden.
‘Welcome home, son!’ Charles boomed.
‘Thanks, Charles. Louis let me in then threw a rugby ball at my head.’ He rubbed his scalp.
It was a relief to see he looked a little less pale, a little recovered.
‘He was probably trying to hit your chest; his aim’s a little off.’ Charles pulled a face. Their laughter only added to the convivial atmosphere as they stood in the sunny garden, where the unexpected warmth of the day gave way to a slight chill in this changeable month.
‘What are you thinking of asking me?’ Her son clearly keen to know.
‘I was going to ask you if you fancy a trip.’ She moved the hose along to water the other flower bed.
‘A trip where?’ He stood with his hands on his hips, looking so much like his father it was striking. ‘I’ve only just arrived!’
‘A place that will allow you to take a moment, a place you can breathe, get your head straight away from the hustle and bustle of life, away from the gossip. A place where you might have left a piece of your heart.’A place where I might have too...
‘Corner Cottage?’ His mouth seemed a little dry, his words sticky.
‘Yes, Corner Cottage.’ She tried to imagine stepping over the threshold for the first time in all these years and her heart beat a little too fast.
‘But you don’t go down to Ilfracombe.’ Her son pointed out the obvious.
‘No, I found the thought too painful, too many ghosts, but I think maybe Charles is right, it’s time we laid them to rest. Plus I want to show you something.’
‘What do you want to show me?’
‘Ah, you’ll have to wait and see.’
‘I want to go, Mum. It’s taken all of my strength over the last few weeks not to jump in the car and go find Tawrie, but she was so angry, so hurt and I get why. I think she meant it when she told me to sod off.’ The crease at the top of his nose and the inward curve to his eyebrows spoke of the distress he contained.
