The panic at that suggestion gripped him around the throat before his rational brain interfered. ‘She’s not going to find someone else in a week, is she?’
‘Hmm, a week might be okay. She said, “Love sucks,” too, which I think is your fault.’
‘She said something like that when we were together,’ he said with a smile. ‘Don’t worry. I’m a florist. I’ll think of something.’ He only hoped she would understand – and appreciate – the gesture. He already knew the perfect plants.
‘Great. I’m glad we’ve got that sorted,’ Ginny said brightly. ‘Makes me feel less guilty for interfering.’
‘It’s your business at I Do, right? Bringing people together?’
‘Apparently,’ she answered drily. ‘Although I haven’t been lucky enough to receive those services myself. My most romantic moment recently was when I got stuck in a car full of mistletoe.’
‘Hmm,’ Gabri answered, not entirely sure of her point. ‘Thanks for the call – and for looking out for Toni.’
‘Sounds like I didn’t need to,’ she said warmly. ‘Good luck!’
‘Thanks. I think I’ll need it.’
The ferry had rounded the pier and the approaching coastline was now dominated by the cranes of the port. He was about to end the call and prepare to disembark when a thought occurred to him.
‘Actually, Ginny. There’s something you can help me with, if you don’t mind?’
35
Toni hadn’t been here in years. There had been a time when she’d come often – so often, she knew Miro would have disapproved. But then Cillian had grown into an unpredictable toddler and bringing him to the former quarry, with stones and sudden drops everywhere, had been too stressful.
It was testament to her unsettled state of mind that she was here today, with the warm wind in her hair and Cilli sending her curious looks, as though he sensed she didn’t know what to feel.
The sound of the waves and the colour of the rocks reminded her a little of Elba, but this was the Isle of Portland in Dorset, not the isola in the Tyrrhenian Sea.
‘Was I already born when you brought Dad’s ashes here?’ Cillian asked, giving her no time to adjust to the sudden line of questioning.
‘Yes, you were on my chest, wrapped up in a sling,’ she answered with both a smile and tears welling up.
‘Teddy’s grandpa was buried in a coffin,’ he said. Teddy was a boy in Cilli’s class.
‘Yes, that’s what some people want.’
‘But not Dad?’
Andreas referred to Miro as ‘Papa’ when he spoke to Cillian, but Toni had automatically reached for the English terms. Miro hadn’t been there to introduce that name to his son, but she couldn’t do anything about it now. It was a part of Miro she hadn’t been able to replace, but maybe one day, Cillian would explore his heritage himself.
‘Your father didn’t mind what happened to his body,’ she began, pausing when she didn’t like how callous that sounded.
‘Did he know he would die?’
She shook her head immediately. ‘No, but there’s enough risk in mountaineering that we talked about it. There’s no harm in talking about what we’d like to happen when we die, although it can be difficult. But your dad, he just told me he’d be gone and he didn’t want any trouble or fuss.’
Cillian’s wide-eyed stare made her wonder if he hadn’t been ready for this conversation. So much trial and error in life, with no option for a do-over – which was part of the reason she was here today.
‘Andreas brought his body home for me – for us,’ she continued, now she’d started. ‘I knew he wouldn’t want to take up space in a cemetery, so I scattered his ashes into the sea just down there.’
Usually, Cillian would scramble ahead, but he was reluctant today and she suspected it had nothing to do with the jagged rocks or steep hill down to the cove.
‘Do you think Gabri would want to have his ashes scattered on a beach like this on Elba?’ he asked.
Toni nearly tripped as her steps faltered. ‘What made you think of that?’
He shrugged. ‘It just reminded me of the beach on the island – the hidden one he told me about after I found the turtle’s nest.’
