It hurt, that Miro was long gone, but Gabri was so present in Cillian’s mind – inhermind – even after they’d left the island.No, perhaps that’s not what hurt. If she was honest with herself, a tingle of warmth had washed through her at his name – at the knowledge that Cillian was thinking about him too. What hurt was the disconnect with what she wanted to feel.
‘I don’t know. I think Gabri would like to return to the ground, although probably not in a coffin,’ she commented, even as the twist of mixed feelings pulled tight. ‘But it would be up to him.’
‘That’s true. He likes plants more than rocks.’
Miro had always dreamed and looked up, whereas Gabri was firmly on the ground.
‘What about you, Mum?’ he mumbled.
She stopped to fiercely pull him close. ‘There’s no reason to think I’m going to die any time soon, but I would probably have my ashes scattered somewhere too.’
‘Somewhere I could visit? Like here?’
When she couldn’t answer in words, she gave him a nod.
It was a misty day, so unlike the blinding blue sky of Elba. Toni could barely see the coastline winding away to the west and Chesil Beach. The distant horizon was completely obscured. A handful of climbers were down in the rocky cove below, setting up their coils of rope and stepping into their harnesses in preparation for their attempts on the natural rock wall.
But the path she would take lay to the south, across a field of loose rocks and down to the pebbles of Hallelujah Bay. Toni scrambled over the stones, holding a hand out to help Cillian, even though he clearly didn’t need it.
‘Do you miss Dad a lot today? Is that why we’re here? Do you think about him all the time?’
Toni almost regretted bringing him, since she had no satisfactory answer to that question. She thought of Gabri again, who’d told the truth to Cillian even when it had causedproblems. He was right; you shouldn’t lie to a child. When she lied to herself all the time, telling the truth was uncomfortable.
But she wanted to tell him.
‘No, I don’t think about him all the time any more,’ she said softly. ‘And that’s why we’re here. Your dad’s place in my life has changed over the years. I think it had to. He’ll always be the man I love – and your father – but the present moves on and drags us with it eventually. He’s not in the present – inourpresent.’ No matter how hard she tried to keep him there.
‘Is that the spot?’ he asked, pointing out a mossy knoll extending almost into the water.
‘You remember it,’ she commented softly. She’d always wondered if Miro would have preferred his ashes to be scattered from a high mountain in his homeland, but she hadn’t been able to part with him at the time. Now, she imagined he’d be happy that his son knew the exact place where she’d tried – and failed – to say goodbye.
Gabri had been right; she’d never be able to say a final goodbye to him. But she could let go of the tight grip she had on his memory. Her life had opened up anyway, without her realising, and she was ready to admit it, accept it – embrace it.
Today was some kind of goodbye. Then she’d go home and write Gabri a long email and maybe one day, they’d see each other again and things would work out differently. Her life wasn’t over – not even her love life.
Grabbing Cillian, she squeezed him close, knowing these hugs would always be as much for her as for him and she’d have to let him go one day too. It was time for Toni to open her arms and move on.
Arriving at Great Heart on Monday morning, Toni appreciated that she had a few hours alone in the quiet. The gym wouldn’t open until after lunch, so she had time for admin work – orders, inventory, shift planning and some bookings – before the echoing shouts and the clink of carabiners would intrude.
She’d composed and deleted what felt like a hundred emails in her head as she drove to work but it didn’t seem appropriate, emailing Gabri to tell him he’d been right – but also wrong. Trying to express the clarity from the day before was difficult when she started wondering how he’d react.
Unlocking the front doors, she made her way to her desk and paused when she got there. The keyboard had been shoved back and sitting in the middle of her desk was a plant, the pot wrapped in brown paper. Another paper bag was next to it.
From the scent alone, she knew it was rosemary. No blossoms, just shiny leaves. The scent took her right back to Gabri’s garden, triggering memories of sitting under the pergola and enjoying life. Rubbing a sprig, she brought her fingertips to her nose.
Who was thoughtful enough to leave a Mediterranean plant on her desk? She could only imagine it was Kira or Andreas, but Andreas had no idea how much her recent trip had meant to her and she wouldn’t expect Kira to even know what rosemary looked like.
Picking up the paper bag, she noted that it weighed almost nothing and opened it curiously. Luckily, she peered in before sticking her hand inside, because at the top was the spiky pink head of a thistle. Her breath caught. Groping for the back of her chair, she plonked into it, her mind racing.
There was no writing on the bag. It wasn’t a flower delivery from a local florist. Someone had placed this on her desk over the weekend. It couldn’t have been Gabri, but… whoelsewould have done it?
She filled a glass with water in the kitchenette and tipped the thistle out of its bag, setting it carefully in the glass. She’d have to ask Gabri what to do with it – how best to preserve it. Perhaps that’s what he wanted from her, with this symbolic gift.
Glancing at the rosemary, she wondered if there was symbolism in that and perched at her desk to find out. Opening a browser, she looked it up on a floristry website and read until her vision swam with tears. Remembrance. Immortality. Fidelity.
Gabri knew exactly what those words meant to her, how they had shaped her life. But aside from making her bawl at her desk, she wasn’t sure what his purpose was, sending her floral symbols and making her wonder how he’d achieved it – whether he wasn’t a thousand miles away on Elba right now but perhaps much closer than she thought.
She didn’t dare hope.
