‘I don’t know. I don’t want to think that’s true. I want to think we’re capable of changing and evolving. Of being better. So, in your situation, you’ve been gone for most of your daughter’s life – but you’ve found her again. And you’re not trying to just steamroller in and take over or make excuses for not being there when she was younger. You’re being honest and open and you’re also helping build her a new house. If that isn’t progress, I don’t know what is. Plus, you might be in a tent, but it’s a tent in a field at the back of the house you’re building her. How do you feel when you wake up every morning?’
‘Usually sore,’ he replies, ‘but I know what you mean. And every day since I’ve been here, I’ve felt… hopeful? Grateful to see Miranda and Evan and for being part of their lives. Keen to get on with work I know is useful. Imagining a walk on the beach. Looking forward to seeing you at some point.’
‘Aw, shucks,’ I say, putting my hands over my heart. ‘Don’t get carried away, now. No use falling in love with me, I’m not the marrying type. But seriously – there’s a good, solid list right there, my friend. Reasons to Stick Around. Positive reasons, too – not “I have to stay or it makes me a dickhead”, or “I have to stay or I’ll let Miranda down again”, or “I have to stay because I don’t have anywhere else to go”. Real reasons that mean you’relaying down roots that are going to nurture you, not strangle you.’
Wow, I think, as I finish up that sentence. I’m really quite good at this. I should probably consider an alternative career as a motivational speaker. I can see him thinking it over.
‘Okay, makes sense. You’ve convinced me,’ he finally says, smiling. ‘I am coming down off the ledge. How about you? Were you out walking to avoid wanting to kill anyone?’
‘Indeed. I spent the whole morning with the mums and grannies of the Starshine Cove area, as well their offspring. Then I had a coffee with Cally, and then I took Lilly and Meg to the McDonalds at the retail park with my dad, and then I agreed to be part of that DNA testing project that Dan is doing for his course at uni. I had to swab my cheek, and I felt like I was a super criminal who’d finally been caught.’
Guy laughs and reminds me that Interpol are still on my tail. He looks out of the window of the van and says: ‘That is a busy day. I can see why you needed a walk. You know if it ever feels too much, you can always pop round to my place?’
‘Your tent, you mean, Guy?’
‘Yes, but it’s quite a nice tent. And I have a camping stove, so I’m not without resources. I could offer you tea. I’m just saying – you don’t always have to escape alone. You can escape with me.’
Our eyes meet, and my heart does a little shimmy. Oh, I think, drinking him all in – if only we’d met at a different time, in a different place.
‘Thank you,’ I say, kissing him on the cheek before I open the door of the van. ‘That’s possibly the most dysfunctional and yet also romantic thing anybody has ever said to me.’
NINE
A few nights later, I decide to take him up on his offer. I am lying in bed, in a slight huff with the world, and feeling the need to separate myself from it. I have been working hard on recognising these moods since I arrived, and then on dealing with them appropriately, rather than being a sulky cow or deciding to book a flight to the Galapagos Islands. That’s not always as easy as it sounds, and right now I am struggling.
I’ve had another busy day, helping Connie out at the café and stepping in to host an afternoon Yoga for Kids session at the community centre. That was a lot of fun, as you’d imagine, and left me feeling very zen and optimistic. Lilly and Meg were there taking part, and I walked back to the cottage with them and Cally afterwards.
Archie made us all tea, and Cally tried not to eat too many biscuits, and I tried not to disappear down a rabbit hole of family memories as we sat together in the kitchen. I caught him watching me and forced a smile onto my face. This is his home now, the home where he is raising his beautiful, blended family, and I have no right to haunt it.
He is still slightly reticent around me, which bothers me more than I like to admit. He has every right to be cautious,because he isn’t just letting me into his life, he’s letting me into his daughters’ lives too. He doesn’t know the full story behind my no-show for their mum’s funeral because I asked Connie and George not to share it around. It’s a painful and difficult thing to remember, and it was hard enough talking to two people about it, never mind more.
Bearing that in mind, I know it is understandable that Archie has reservations. I know he’s protective of the girls and who can blame him? From his perspective, I’m the wacky wild-card aunt who could go maverick at any minute, and he doesn’t want Lilly and Meg to get too dependent on having me around. Or maybe I’m overthinking it and he just doesn’t like me. That is also eminently possible.
As I was leaving, Cally was talking to him about her son, Sam. Everyone keeps telling me how much I’m going to love Sam, but so far he remains mysterious. He was due to be back here by now but apparently got the offer of an internship at Zack’s TV company, so he’s staying in London for the summer. The change in plans means they’re having to sort out childcare for a long-planned mini-break to Paris.
Now, even with my limited amount of time spent in modern-era Starshine Cove, I know that finding childcare is not a big challenge. There’s Connie, and Dad, and Ella the GP, and the two Betties who run the local bakery. There’s Lucy, the local vet, whose daughter Rose is Archie’s gardening apprentice, and there’s an entire world of school friends and their parents. Yet despite knowing all of this, I decided that what Archie and Cally needed in that exact moment was me.
‘I’ll look after them,’ I’d piped up. ‘I’ll stay here if you like. We can have movie nights and eat popcorn and talk about boys.’
The girls were immediately all in, jumping up and down and screeching and announcing that it would be the best sleepover ever. Cally seemed pretty down with the idea too, until shelooked at Archie’s face. Then her smile fell a little, and she muttered something about ‘Well we’ll have to wait and see a bit nearer the time.’
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut and left rapidly after that in case I died of actual shame. Archie walked me to the door and I paused before I left. There was an awkward atmosphere hovering between us that would only get worse if we didn’t address it.
‘I get it, Archie,’ I’d said gently. ‘You don’t really trust me yet, do you?’
‘It’s not even that, Suzie,’ he’d replied, not at all unkindly. ‘It’s that I don’t really know you. You were like some kind of ghost in Sandy’s life, in all our lives, and… Look, I’m glad you’re back, I really am. George is so happy about it, and the girls think you’re the best thing since sliced bread, and… I suppose I just need a bit more time. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I also don’t want to lie.’
I’d assured him that it was absolutely one hundred per cent okay, that I completely understood where he was coming from, and plastered yet another fake smile on my face. I was due to have dinner with my dad at the inn but ended up crying off. I was wiped out with it all, my social battery well and truly dead, and I didn’t have even one more fake smile left in me. Dad went there with Connie anyway, so I didn’t feel like I’d let him down at least.
I lay in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling, feeling like the walls were starting to close in on me. Wondering how skin-deep my resilience was if it could be so easily dented by one teeny-tiny almost-snub, delivered in the kindest of ways. I used to be a tough cookie. I used to be the kind of woman who hitch-hiked through Peru and drank grown men under the table and had face-offs with angry ostriches. Now I’m having a meltdown because a perfectly lovely man said a perfectly reasonable and not at all mean thing to me.
I kick the covers off and clamber out of bed. I feel a little like I’m sneaking out, even though I’m an adult, and even though my dad isn’t actually here to see me so I don’t need to climb down the drainpipe or anything.
I grab my phone and head off around the back of the village towards the field where Guy is camping. Archie and Rose have their greenhouses here, as well as their extensive vegetable patch and a whole area for cultivating cut flowers. Any profits made from the produce or bouquets are ploughed back into the project, which provides fresh food boxes for people in need. He also holds masterclasses and Q&As to help other residents grow their own and still finds time with Rose’s help to stay on top of the communal gardens. Bearing in mind that Archie was a corporate lawyer in London when he met my sister, he’s come a long way.
He’s also a great dad, and I need to get my knickers out of the twist that they’re currently in. I definitely made the right decision to bin off a night at the Starshine Inn, I think, walking through swathes of sunflowers and onwards towards the fallow field at the end. I spot Guy’s tent, and head towards it. A little triangle of green in the distance.
‘Coo-ee!’ I cry. ‘Anybody home? I’m a burglar, come to steal your toilet roll!’ That might sound trivial, but in some of the places Guy and I have lived, the loss of a toilet roll can feel like life and death, and a multipack of Andrex is a gift from God.
