‘More. It’s… well, it’s quite a place up here, I tell ya. I wish you could see it.’
‘So do I. But you’re only there for a few weeks, aren’t you? Term doesn’t end for a while. Though I met a guy from the same area, and he says you can get flights up to Aberdeen, so maybe I could manage a long weekend? It’d be great to see you. I miss you.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ I ask, faking a stern voice. ‘I bet you’re up to all kinds of mischief without me to keep an eye on you! So, who’s this guy then?’
‘I’ll tell you about him if you tell me about Kate.’
Huh. I’ve raised her right – she’s negotiating. ‘Deal. You first.’
‘Well, he’s called Andrew, but everyone calls him Drew, and he’s a philosophy postgrad. You’d like him.’
I’m not so sure about that. I come from a world where philosophy means ‘how many doughnuts can you fit in a squad car?’, not the big questions of life. ‘He has a 1970 Suzuki T500,’she adds, knowing she’s playing a winning hand. ‘It was his dad’s, and he restored it himself.’
‘Well, it’s a classic. Make sure you wear your helmet if you go out with him, okay?’
Being a parent makes hypocrites of us all. I have a motorcycle, in fact I have two, but when it comes to Shannon? I’d rather she drove round in a Volvo, ideally wearing body armour.
‘Of course, Dad. Well, it’s early days, but he’s nice. Right. Kate. She’s super pretty, isn’t she? She looks like she belongs on a wild moor in her nightgown…’
I laugh, and ponder the image. I find I like it a little too much.
‘She’s from London, and very much a city girl. But yeah, there is a wild side to her I guess… she’s a bit unpredictable.’
‘That’s not a bad thing, Dad. Your whole life has been predictable for too long now. I know you’re cautious, but you’re on vacation – maybe it’s time to loosen up?’
‘Hmmm. That’s kind of what she said. And look, it’s nothing serious. She lives here, I live in the States. It’s just a friends thing, really.’
‘Right. Well, maybe you can enjoy some benefits along the way. I’m all for it, Dad – just don’t share any of the gross details, okay?’
She pauses, and I know her well enough to almost see the wheels turning in her mind. ‘I know it’s been hard,’ she says. ‘I know you miss Mom. We both do. But it’s been years, and she’d want you to have some happiness, some fun in your life. So do I. You don’t need my blessing, but you have it anyway.’
As soon as I hear those words, I realise I’ve been waiting for them. That I did need her blessing after all. Shannon is the most important person in my life, and I would never do anything that would upset her. ‘Thanks, honey,’ I mutter, a dumper truck ofemotion suddenly choking me up. ‘I’m gonna go now. I think I see dolphins.’
‘Oh my God! Go! I love you!’
I hang up, and slide the phone back into my jeans pocket. Damn. It seems like I have something in my eye again.
I was lying about the dolphins, because I’m not man enough to voluntarily cry to my daughter. But now, as I stare out at the sea, I think maybe I wasn’t lying after all. I see some distinctive shapes out there, and put the binoculars to my face.
I laugh out loud as I watch them – a small pod, leaping and playing, the sunlight shimmering on their backs as they splash through the water. Puffins and dolphins. Could this day get any better?
Yeah, I think, striding purposefully back to the cottage. It sure as hell could. The walk and the birds and the talk with Shannon have all worked their magic. I need to get out of my own way, and live a little.
FOURTEEN
KATE
I wake up full of doubts, which is rubbish, because I’d gone to bed full of hope. The light of day, though, exposes too many cracks in my surface-level confidence. Yes, Brody had undoubtedly wanted me. But he stopped. He walked out. I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster, and my stomach is churning just as much.
I force myself up, wrapping myself in my robe and trying not to think too much as I go about my morning ablutions. I pause outside his door, wondering if he’s still in there. Wondering if I should go in and pounce on him.
Last night’s Kate wouldn’t have hesitated, but this morning’s Kate is unsure. Anyway, I realise as I peek through the slightly open door, he’s not even in there. I head downstairs, deciding to take one step at a time. Coffee first, self-recriminations later. It’s entirely possible he’s changed his mind about the whole thing, and if he has, I will deal with it. I won’t have lost anything – in fact, I tell myself, I will have gained something. I asked for what I wanted, which is a first for me, and even if it doesn’t work out, that’s a positive. I need to do more of that in my life. I’ll still have this trip, and the bookshop to work on.
I enter the kitchen, and see that he’s not here either. Huh. Maybe he’s run away. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened to me. I survived that, and I’ll survive this.
My hands aren’t totally convinced by this assertion, and they’re trembling slightly as I fill the kettle and make my drink. I’ve just settled down at the big pine table when the cottage door swings open, and he strides in, larger than life. His hair is damp from sea spray, and his boots are coated in sand. He looks determined as he approaches, pausing only to hang his binoculars up on a peg by the door.
‘Hi,’ I say quietly, wrapping my hands around my mug. ‘Did you go for a walk?’
