Unlike her.
I’m on my own.
She’d always planned for that. Planned to head out into the world on her own and make her own way, without being watched by people she’d known her whole life, or having those people report back on her antics to her parents, or gossip about her behind her back. Growing up, Seashell Island had been stifling in its monotony – same people, same places, nothing ever new.
She’d wanted to explore the world, find new people, her people, her place. Instead, she’d found . . . Callum.
Right now, the idea of the kind of familiarity Seashell Island offered – of knowing there was always someone around the corner who would smile and help her, even if they would gossip about it obnoxiously later – made her heart ache.
More than anything, she realised, she wanted her mum.
Even if that meant going back to Seashell Island.
She wanted to curl up in her mother’s lap and have her stroke her hair and tell her everything was going to be OK. She needed to believe that everything was OK.
Because right now, everything felt anything but.
She’d sworn when she left Seashell Island she’d never return without an exit strategy. But since right now she had no strategy at all for anything, she decided to forgive herself for the breach of faith. This wasn’t a failure. It was just . . . regrouping. Figuring out what she did next. If nothing else, the boredom of Seashell Island had to be good for thinking, right?
It was time to go home.
‘What do you mean you’re going home?’ her flatmate, Tanya, asked incredulously when she found Juliet packing her small suitcase.
‘Family emergency,’ Juliet said, not really lying, not completely. ‘I need to get back to Seashell Island.’
Tanya had started out as the friend of a friend of a friend, but it hadn’t taken long for them to become friends in their own right, falling into each other’s lives until Juliet could barely remember not knowing her. In a decade of living in London, Tanya was by far the very best flatmate she’d ever had. She kind of regretted leaving her.
‘Back to the place you said you’d happily never set foot on again?’ Tanya asked, eyebrows raised. ‘The place you said stifled your very soul?’
Juliet winced. She had said that. Was this how Callum had felt when she’d reminded him of all the stuff he’d said about his wife? ‘It’s just for a visit. I’ve visited before.’
‘Always under duress and with your brother practically packing your suitcase for you.’
‘Yeah, well. This time it’s important.’ Even if she couldn’t tell Tanya how important.
Tanya knew about her and Callum. Knew he was her boss, knew his wife’s name. If she found out about the baby . . . Tanya was also the sort of person who would stalk over there and tell Callum exactly what she thought of him. In front of the HR department.
Juliet paused, halfway through shoving her favourite comforting jumper into her case. Would it be such a bad thing if she told Tanya, and Tanya caused a scene?
Objectively, yes, because Callum would hate her, her career would be ruined, everyone would be staring at her just like they did on Seashell Island the day after the Year Eleven prom when everyone knew she’d drunk half a bottle of vodka, tried to start a conga line, then thrown up all over the headteacher.
She didn’t want to be looked at like that again. But at least if everyone knew the truth, she wouldn’t have to hide it. And if she told Tanya, she wouldn’t be alone . . .
Juliet shook her head. No. Tanya would tell her she told her so, she’d think it was her own stupid fault for being gullible enough to believe she might be different. That this guy really would leave his wife, or at least stay left. That her office romance could end anywhere that didn’t involve a disciplinary procedure for one or both of them, or her walking out of her job.
Again.
This wasn’t the first job she’d walked out of, or even the fifth. But it was the first time she had no idea what she was going to do next.
Except go home to Seashell Island.
It wasn’t much of a plan. But she needed to retreat and regroup. Seashell Island would give her the chance to do that.
‘Is it your parents?’ Tanya asked. ‘Is someone sick?’
Juliet shook her head. ‘No. It’s nothing like that . . . I just need to get back.’
She could have invented a mystery illness for someone, she supposed, but that would be another lie to keep track of, and she didn’t think her foggy brain could manage it. Instead, she grabbed another handful of underwear and shoved it into her case, hoping it would fit long enough for her to figure out her next moves, at least. There were no lingerie shops on Seashell Island. Well, if you didn’t count the ancient Shells Department Store, which Juliet definitely didn’t.
‘Then I really don’t understand.’ Tanya reached out to still her hand as she shoved her bras into the case. ‘Juliet, stop. Just . . . slow down and talk to me. Obviously something’s happened. Is it Callum?’
‘No!’ Juliet said, too loudly. ‘No. We’re over anyway. Ages ago. I think he’s going to go back to his wife.’
Tanya looked a little smug. ‘I’ve thought he’d go back to his wife for months.’
‘Yeah. Well, I think maybe you’re right. So I got out of that one before I could get hurt.’
Just not before I got knocked up.
‘You did the right thing, babe.’ Tanya wrapped both arms around her and hugged her tight, which had the unfortunate side effect of sending Juliet’s stomach rolling again.
God, how am I going to cope with the ferry if a hug makes me feel like this?
It would be worth it, though. Once she was there. She hoped.
‘I just don’t see why that means you have to go home to Mermaid Island, or whatever that inbred backwater of yours is called.’
‘Seashell Island.’ Juliet bristled at hearing her friend talking down her home, even though she knew she’d said far worse herself. In fact, everything Tanya knew about Seashell Island came from Juliet’s own mouth.
Maybe it was the hormones, but suddenly she was seeing the island in a whole new light.
It was – or could be, hopefully – a sanctuary.
She just had to get there without throwing up all her internal organs.
‘Whatever the place is called. Why go there?’
Juliet cast around for an explanation, one that Tanya would buy, that wasn’t too close to the truth.
‘I, uh, might have been a little indiscreet when I dumped Callum,’ she said. ‘So the whole office will be talking about it, and I hate that. So I gave in my notice. And now, well, I kind of just want to lie low for a while, lick my wounds, you know?’
Tanya squeezed her close again, her perfume overwhelming Juliet’s delicate senses. ‘Babe, you’re talking to the woman who sent her boss a “Fuck Off” cake but managed to get it delivered the day before I handed in my resignation. If anyone gets it, it’s me.’
Juliet couldn’t help but smile at that. ‘True. Things could be worse.’ At least she hadn’t just sent Callum the positive pregnancy test through the notoriously leaky internal mail, like Tanya probably would have done.
‘But even so. Seashell Island? Really?’ Tanya pulled away just enough to give Juliet the full impact of her disbelievingly concerned look.
‘It’s not forever,’ Juliet told her. ‘I just need . . . an escape. Just for a bit. I’ll be back before you know it.’
‘I hope so.’ Tanya suddenly looked more serious than Juliet thought she’d ever seen her. ‘Because babe, if life has taught me one thing, it’s this: you can’t run away from your problems forever.’
Juliet nodded sagely in agreement, even though a small voice inside her was screaming, Just watch me.
After all, it wasn’t like anyone was likely to chase her all the way to Seas
hell Island. In fact, it would be the perfect solution – if only she wasn’t taking her biggest problem along for the ride inside her.
MESSAGES
Juliet (to the ’Rents group): Good news! I’m coming home for a little visit. Just for a bit. Nothing to worry about. See you soon!
Juliet (to the ’Rents group): Just realised you won’t even be there yet. Hope the inflight entertainment system is good, and I’ll see you when you get there!
Juliet (to Miranda): Coming back to the island for a few days but can’t find my key. Can I borrow yours?
MIRANDA
‘What do you mean they’re not coming back?’ Leo hissed, as Miranda ushered him into the kitchen, far away from where her nieces were squealing with excitement to be back in their turret bedroom, bouncing on the narrow twin beds. ‘They’re our parents. They have to come back. We need them.’
‘We’re grown adults, Leo,’ she reminded him, quashing the same feeling of panic that had risen in her stomach at her mother’s words. ‘I think we can cope.’
‘You, maybe! I needed them to help me with the girls.’
Miranda rolled her eyes. ‘You can’t manage to look after your own children for a week of the summer holidays? Leo, really.’
‘It’s not a week! Emily’s away all summer on her honeymoon. And I cannot afford to take a whole summer off work. I have clients depending on me out there in the real world, you know.’
Like her existence on Seashell Island wasn’t real. Like her job didn’t count. Five minutes her brother had been back on the island, and they were already having the same old argument.
‘I think that might be a record,’ she muttered under her breath, before returning to the much more important issue at hand. ‘I checked the reservations book. There’s no guests scheduled for the rest of the summer.’
‘You think that’s why they’re staying away longer? Because they knew the B&B would be empty?’ Leo asked.
‘Or did they keep the B&B empty on purpose so they could stay away longer?’ Miranda rubbed a hand over her forehead. ‘We’ve never once not been booked up in August, not since the year we opened.’ She remembered it so clearly: laying soaps on carefully folded towels on the pristine beds; Leo welcoming their first guests with a wide smile showing off his missing front teeth while Miranda handed them a basket of treats as a prize for being the inaugural visitors to the Lighthouse B&B. The guest book that sat open on the front table in the hall, dutifully signed by all their delighted guests.
That first guest book had taken pride of place on the sitting room bookshelf for almost twenty years, since its last page was filled. It was hard to imagine that the latest one – a silver and aqua Coptic-bound book that Miranda had sourced for them from a local amateur book binder – might not have any more entries this summer.
Or ever.
Oh God, what if it was ever?
Leo raked a hand through his chocolate-brown hair, so like their father’s, down to the touch of grey already starting at the temples, even though he was barely into his thirties. ‘Look, what did Mum say, exactly.’ He was already pulling out his phone, presumably to message their parents and ask them the same questions. Not that Miranda imagined that he’d get any answers for a while, if they were travelling. Or having too much fun to be bothered by phones.
Miranda sighed. ‘She didn’t have time to say a lot. They were rushing to catch a plane.’ One to anywhere but here, apparently. ‘They made some new friends over in Australia who invited them to come back to stay with them for a while. I think she said something about a yacht.’
‘A yacht?’
‘You know, you sounded like Abby just then,’ Mia said, from the doorway. ‘Your voice got all high and squeaky.’
Miranda made herself smile as she turned to face her nieces, loitering and eavesdropping just like their father and Auntie Juliet used to do whenever she was trying to have a private conversation with one of her parents.
‘Was your room missing?’ she asked, eyes wide with pretend panic.
Abby laughed, a joyous, tinkling sound, while Mia, too world-weary already at almost ten, rolled her eyes in a way that Miranda had to admit was familiar from her own reflection.
‘Of course not, Auntie Miri! It was right where we left it last summer.’ Abby hopped through the doorway and perched up on the kitchen table, swinging her legs and looking for all the world like Juliet had at the same age.
‘And this year we get to stay all summer,’ Mia added, looking between Miranda and Leo. Miranda wondered how much she’d heard.
‘Your dad said! That’s so exciting! And you know, I’ll be staying here at the Lighthouse this summer too, so we can hang out together lots when I’m not at work!’ Of course, when she’d originally planned hiding out at the Lighthouse until she figured out what to do about Paul, she hadn’t imagined sharing the space with her brother and nieces, but maybe the distraction would be a good thing. It was hard to be heartbroken and sad when she could bake cakes with Mia or make daisy chains with Abby.
And honestly, without her parents there, Miranda figured she could use a little help with keeping the B&B side of things running, too. If they got some guests.
No, when they got some guests. The Lighthouse B&B wasn’t going to fade into obscurity on her watch. So that meant they’d all have to pitch in. She and Leo – and even Juliet – had all had their own chores around the Lighthouse when they were kids. It could be a sort of game for Mia and Abby, perhaps. And Leo could definitely pull his weight if he expected her to entertain the girls while he worked all this summer.
‘It’s good that Auntie Miranda will be here actually, because . . .’ Leo crouched down in front of Abby, and motioned Mia closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. ‘I’m afraid I have some bad news about Grandma and Grandad, sweethearts.’
Mia yanked herself away, her face a picture of horror. ‘What happened? Was it a plane crash? No, a yacht crash! Are they dead?’
‘What? No!’ Leo said, but it was too late. Abby was already in floods of tears, and Mia was ranting about all the people who said that travel was good for you.
Clearly, Emily had thus far been responsible for all the important conversations in their kids’ lives. And most other stuff, as far as Miranda could tell. Damn it, it wasn’t as if she was any better a substitute than their father, but she supposed she’d have to do her best.
‘No, Mia, Abby, honey, Grandma and Grandad are just fine. Look!’ She yanked her phone from her pocket and pulled up the last photo her mum had sent her, of the two of them standing too close to a koala. ‘See? They’re fine.’
Abby hiccupped a last sob, then took the phone from her, stroking the koala in the image.
Mia was more suspicious. ‘That could have been taken before the crash.’
‘There was no crash!’ Leo yelled. ‘I was just—’
‘Terrifying them half out of their minds?’ Miranda finished for him, and Leo shot her a glare.
‘Trying to explain that Grandma and Grandad won’t be back tomorrow like we thought,’ Leo corrected her.
‘Because they’re dead,’ Mia added, sending Abby into another wail and making Leo throw up his hands in defeat.
‘Because they’re having too much fun on holiday to come back just yet,’ Miranda said, taking pity on her younger brother. ‘They’re on a plane right now to the next part of their holiday, but we’ll Skype them tomorrow so you can see them, OK?’
Mia still looked sceptical, but Abby nodded and threw herself into Miranda’s arms. Leo, she realised, had stepped away, putting physical distance between himself and his daughters’ emotions.
That wasn’t going to be able to last all summer. Especially without Mum and Dad there to pick up the slack for him. But right now, Miranda welcomed the distraction from her own problems.
‘Come on,’ she said, scooping Abby up i
nto her arms. ‘Let’s go find your swimsuits and shorts and we’ll go take a walk on the beach.’
That perked the girls up, at least, and Leo looked profoundly grateful.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked. ‘I’ve got some calls and emails I need to return . . .’
Miranda rolled her eyes again. Nope, no idea where Mia got that from. ‘Yes, it’s fine. I’ve got the afternoon off anyway.’
Then she hustled the girls upstairs before Leo could ask why she wasn’t working that afternoon. Or why she was staying at the Lighthouse. She far preferred the story where she was saving him from disasters of his own making, rather than his daughters saving her.
The girls skipped happily enough back down the familiar road to Long Beach, Miranda following behind at a statelier, grown-up pace. As the sands came into view, she sighed to see so few families and kids playing on the beach. There wasn’t even a queue for Terry’s ice-cream van. Surely it hadn’t been this quiet last summer?
The afternoon sun warmed her skin and loosened her muscles as the salty breeze washed over her, filling her lungs with a welcome freshness. Mia came racing back as Terry played the van’s tune, and Miranda automatically handed over a five-pound note.
‘Thanks, Auntie Miri!’ she shouted back over her shoulder as she ran back to buy the ice creams.
‘Recovered from your adventures with llamas?’
Miranda turned to find Christabel standing up on the jetty behind her, fastening her bike to the railings.
‘Would you believe me if I told you that was the highlight of my day?’ Miranda asked her friend.
Eyebrows raised, Christabel hopped down onto sand. ‘What happened? And how did you acquire those two cuties?’ She nodded in the direction of Mia and Abby, who appeared to have ordered ginormous ice creams with flakes. Or maybe Terry was just so grateful for some customers he was being over-generous.
‘First? Paul dumped me – don’t smile!’
‘I’m not!’ Christabel lied. ‘I’m really not.’
Summer on Seashell Island: Escape to an island this summer for the perfect heartwarming romance in 2020 (Riley Wolfe 1) Page 5
