Emma gave a weak smile. She felt as if she owed her aunt better but she just couldn’t muster it. ‘Sounds nice – if it’s no bother.’
‘Not a bit. It’s nothing fancy; mostly salad.’
‘Better than I was planning.’
‘What were you planning?’
‘Nothing. I was just going to see which tin leapt into my hand first and heat up the contents.’
Patricia gave a soft chuckle. ‘One of those sorts of days, eh?’
‘A bit.’
‘Anything you want to talk about? I’m all ears and not exactly pushed for time.’
‘I would, but I don’t know where to start.’
Her aunt turned to her. ‘Is this about Elise leaving?’
‘It’s about everything, and Elise leaving is just making me look at all the things that are wrong when I’ve been so used to ignoring them for all these years. Quite successfully too.’
‘I don’t think you’ve ignored them,’ Patricia said gently. ‘I think you simply put them out of your mind so you could concentrate on caring for everyone else. It’s so very typical of you. And it seems to me that everyone who needed you needs you a little less these days and you might have more time very soon to think about yourself and what you might want. Why not take that time to look at all the things you feel are wrong; maybe even kick a few out of your life…’
Emma’s smile was a little wider now, but still as rueful. ‘You mean Dougie?’
‘Did I mention Dougie? No – but his is the first name that popped into your head. Doesn’t that tell you something?’
‘It tells me that right now I’m annoyed as hell with him, but surely that’s no reason to call the whole thing off.’
‘If you think that, why are you even posing the question?’
‘I’m not – you did.’
‘I did nothing of the sort.’
Patricia placed two mugs of tea on the table and took a seat. Emma shrugged off her jacket and joined her.
‘Do you think I’m a doormat?’
Patricia reached for her drink. ‘Of course I don’t. I do think you could be more assertive at times but I’d never call you a doormat.’
‘Do you think I’m boring?’
‘God no!’
‘Unambitious?’
Patricia was more thoughtful when she answered this one. ‘I think,’ she began slowly, ‘you’re capable of more than you give yourself credit for.’
‘Do you think I’ve underachieved?’
‘I think you’ve been given fewer opportunities… Emma, where on earth has all this come from?’
Emma dragged her mug across the table and gave a vague shrug as she studied her tea.
‘Something must have started it,’ Patricia insisted.
Emma looked up from her drink. ‘Do you remember Tia Capaldi from when I was at school?’
‘Goodness… now you’re asking! It’s some years… I don’t recall. Was she one of your friends? I don’t remember you talking about her much and it’s quite a distinctive name.’
‘She wasn’t one of my very close friends really, so by rights I shouldn’t have been on her radar at all. She was one of the popular girls; a bit spoilt and entitled to be honest, family had a bit of money. I pretended not to care but I envied her perfect life. I could never really hate her as much as I wanted to, though, because she was actually quite nice and always kind to me whenever our paths crossed.’
‘OK…’
‘Well, I ran into her this morning. Actually, she ran into me – she was jogging.’
Patricia raised her eyebrows. ‘Jogging? Now that sounds like an overachiever to me.’
Emma laughed lightly. ‘I know what you mean. We had a chat. It was quite good actually. She was telling me what a horrible time she’d been having going through a divorce, and she ought to have been moping but she wasn’t – she was so upbeat. She was looking forward, planning, doing things to make it better.’
‘That sounds commendable.’
‘It does, doesn’t it?’
‘But everyone deals with life differently. If you’re comparing yourself to her, you shouldn’t.’
Emma sipped her tea, her thoughts returning to the conversation with Tia that morning. It felt like a lifetime ago already – perhaps because it had been such a very long day and she was tired now.
‘But I don’t know how people do that,’ Emma continued. ‘Get up and dust themselves down and just carry on.’
‘Maybe she only has herself to worry about. It’s much easier to face forward when there’s nobody else to take along. Does she have children from this marriage?’
‘She didn’t say, but I got the impression there aren’t any.’
‘There you go then – easier to move past something when there’s nobody else to carry.’
‘But I don’t have anyone to carry.’
‘Emma… your cart is so full of passengers it’s a wonder the wheels don’t fall off! You have your dad, Elise, Dougie…’
‘Dad doesn’t really need me – I think maybe I pretend he does but it’s really the other way around. Elise is leaving. And Dougie…’ She let out a brief sigh. ‘I don’t know what’s going on with Dougie anymore.’
Patricia gave her a tender look. ‘Your mother should have been here for conversations like this,’ she said softly.
Emma did her best to look brave and as if it didn’t matter that her mother wasn’t around for this stuff, but she couldn’t deny she’d often thought that herself.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I wish every day I could talk to her. But I can’t. I have you instead, and she’d be glad to know it.’
‘You’re allowed to say you miss her. I do, all the time.’
‘I do too,’ Emma said.
They became silent. There was nothing else to say about how they both missed Emma’s mum that hadn’t been said many times before. To remind themselves that she’d always be in their thoughts no matter how many years passed without her was enough.
After a minute or so, Patricia got up from the table. ‘I’m going to get our meal started or we’ll be eating at midnight.’
‘Want me to help?’
‘There’s honestly not much for you to do. I made the salad earlier so there’s just a few things to go in the oven. Why don’t you go out and say hello to Dom?’
Emma nodded. It might be a welcome distraction to listen to her affable uncle wax lyrical about his latest batch of home-made wine. But as Patricia went to the fridge to look for what she was going to cook, Emma was sidetracked by her phone. She noted a text from Dougie, though she certainly wasn’t in the mood to read it. She also noted a new Facebook notification. As she’d promised, Tia had tracked her down and sent a friend request. Emma opened it up and accepted, and was then immediately consumed by curiosity, so rather than going out to her uncle, she took a moment to scroll through Tia’s timeline.
There were lots of photos of perfect-looking people in perfect homes and perfect gardens. There were shots of Tia in exotic locations, of her training and taking part in sporting events. Some of the other people in the photos Emma recognised: Tia’s parents were familiar from the few times they’d been into school with her for report evenings and celebrations – as were girls Tia had hung around with at school, all grown-up and glamorous now. And though they were interesting in their own way, what really caught Emma’s eye was a picture of a tumbledown old railway station building overlooking a weed-choked track.
Isn’t this the cutest thing? the caption read. It’s called Honeymoon Station in a village called Honeymoon. It’s ripe for development and I’d love to be the person who brings it back to life but I need a partner. Please DM me if you’re interested and have some capital to spare!
There were a few comments below the post, mostly to the effect that it was a lovely place and the writer hoped Tia was able to find the right person to help her take it on. From what Tia had said to Emma earlier that day, it didn’t look as if anyone had m
essaged her to offer their help or, if they had, things hadn’t worked out.
Honeymoon Station. The name itself was so ridiculously adorable, so hopelessly romantic, it couldn’t possibly be a real place. Although, as Emma took a closer look at the photo, she couldn’t help but feel that it was going to take a lot of work to make it look as romantic as it sounded. Even so, there was something about it…
Whiteboard cladding (probably hadn’t been white for a long time), a low grey roof with yawning chasms of missing slates, old signage just about visible beneath decades of moss and dirt, grimy windows running the length of the single-storey building, plant pots now filled with weeds… despite all this it was still beautiful.
Emma could almost hear the whistle of the trains as she let the sight of it soak into her soul; could almost imagine the scene of a bustling station perhaps sixty, seventy, maybe even more years ago, the platform wreathed in steam as a gleaming red engine pulled majestically in. Lovers and families and friends – all walks of life would be waiting, watching with expectant eyes for the train to come to a halt. Some would be boarding for adventure, and some would be bidding a tearful farewell to a loved one, old leather suitcases resting at their feet, while train guards in starched uniforms and caps gilded with gold braid hurried everyone along. The station would be freshly painted; spick and span and running like clockwork, looking like something from a black-and-white film.
Restored to that former glory, Honeymoon Station could be achingly beautiful, an evocative reminder of a gentler age. Emma could see why Tia was so taken with it, but she was also a little surprised. She’d never had Tia down as the sentimental type. Now that she thought about it, she’d never really had herself down as the sentimental type either, but something about Honeymoon Station called to her. Perhaps it was special. Perhaps there was some kind of magic, and it had called to Tia too, as if it had chosen who should save it from rotting into history.
Emma was suddenly aware of eyes on her, and looked up to see Patricia regarding her with a quizzical look.
‘Are you alright?’
‘Yes,’ Emma said brightly, ‘of course.’
‘You looked as if you were well away with the fairies.’
‘Did I?’ Emma gave a self-conscious laugh.
‘You were certainly somewhere, and it looked as if it must have been nice.’
Emma got up and slipped her phone into her trouser pocket. ‘I’ll go and see if Dom needs any help out there if you don’t need me in here.’
‘He’d like that,’ Patricia said. ‘In fact, he’ll just be glad someone’s taking an interest in his brewing.’
‘You do that.’
Patricia smiled. ‘Someone other than me. I’m sort of a hostage audience so I don’t count.’
Emma returned the smile. ‘I’m interested… just more interested in that point where all the work is done and I can drink it.’
Patricia’s smile turned into a chuckle. ‘Oh, we’re all interested then!’
Chapter Four
Elise’s flatmate, Cindy, opened the door to let Emma in. It was obvious she’d been crying and Emma guessed there had been a few tears from her and Elise that morning. Originally, Cindy and Elise had met each other through a convenient flat-share arrangement, but during the time they’d been living together they’d actually become genuinely close. Emma could see how it had happened: Cindy was easy-going and pleasant, and anyone who met Elise fell instantly in love with her sweet, unassuming nature.
‘She’s having a last check round her room,’ Cindy said. ‘Go through.’
‘Thanks,’ Emma said. ‘Have you found a new flatmate yet?’
‘Why, do you want to move in?’
‘That does sound tempting right now,’ Emma said with a smile. ‘But I think my boyfriend might have something to say about it.’
‘Well it was worth a try – next best thing to Elise would be her sister and all that. I’ve got a few people coming to view next week and I think one of them will take it if nobody else does; she’s friends with my cousin and she seems nice, so I hope she does to be honest. Although, I don’t suppose I can be picky as long as they help me pay the rent.’
‘Good luck with it,’ Emma said. ‘It seems like new beginnings all round.’
‘It really does. End of an era.’
Cindy’s eyes watered again. It was probably time to leave this conversation, so Emma made her way down the narrow corridor to Elise’s room. She found her sister wrestling with the zip on an overfilled suitcase.
‘How many pairs of shoes do you have in there?’ she asked.
Elise looked up with a bleary grin. ‘Too many, I think.’
‘I’m pretty sure you won’t need your diamanté mules on that volcano.’
‘Ah, but I might need them if a hot Icelander asks me out on a date.’
‘I’m not sure they’re even practical for downtown Reykjavik. Doesn’t everyone in Iceland wear huge woolly jumpers and boots all year round?’
‘Apparently it’s quite pleasant in the summer,’ Elise said mildly. ‘Though their summers probably only last for about three hours or something.’
‘Probably,’ Emma agreed. ‘There must be a reason it’s called Iceland.’ She looked at the suitcase. ‘Do you need any help with anything?’
‘I think I’m pretty much done.’
Emma nodded. ‘I just talked to Cindy. I don’t think she’s coping well with your last day, is she?’
‘Oh, we’ve both been in floods of tears all morning. It’s a good job I did most of my packing earlier this week because I’m good for nothing today really.’
‘She’ll get used to things being different soon enough.’
‘She will. I think it’s a little easier to bear knowing she’ll be able to come and spend some time with me in Iceland once I’ve settled in.’
‘That is a bit of a sweetener, I suppose.’
‘Although I know you won’t,’ Elise added wryly.
‘I will do my best – you know I will because I really want to – but not straight away. I can’t spare the money for the air fare just yet.’
‘Tell Dougie to hurry up and get a job and then you might be able to.’
‘Hmm…’
Emma thought back to the passive-aggressive text message she’d opened the night she’d had dinner with her aunt and uncle after the row she’d had with Dougie.
I’ll take that stupid job if it means that much to you.
Whether it meant anything to her or not was irrelevant. She’d told him as much when they’d discussed things on her return. It wasn’t about what she wanted; it was about fairness and equity in their relationship, and even more than that it was about the simple need to keep a roof over their heads. She pulled her weight to support their lifestyle (though at times it felt more like simply life with no style) and to pay for the home they shared, and he should want to do his bit regardless of what Emma said about it. That was how successful relationships were supposed to work, wasn’t it?
She was suspicious too – though she didn’t want to be. A bit of her wondered whether Dougie would make a show of going along to the interview only to sabotage his chances deliberately so he didn’t get the job, and thinking such things surely indicated that something wasn’t right in their relationship; having so little trust didn’t bode well for their future. To Emma it felt like a no-win situation: if he got the job he’d resent her for the fact he’d feel forced to take it, and if he didn’t she would resent that, even if it ultimately wasn’t his fault.
‘He’s trying,’ she said, wondering why she was bothering to defend him. She supposed she was so used to doing it by now she didn’t really know how to stop.
‘I suppose he must be,’ Elise said. ‘It must be tough managing in the meantime.’
‘I’m sure it won’t be for much longer. Anyway, I don’t want you to worry about that. I want you to concentrate on being ready when Dad comes to pick you up.’
‘I can’t believe the
day’s actually here! I’m excited but also bereft all at the same time… I can’t tell you how weird that feels.’
‘Bereft? Why?’
‘I’ll miss everyone here like mad. I’ll even miss this silly little town that I always said I couldn’t wait to leave.’
Emma smiled. ‘You did used to say that a lot. Sometimes you have to be careful what you wish for.’
‘I won’t miss it for long,’ Elise replied with a grin.
‘And it won’t be forever anyway,’ Emma said.
‘That’s the thing…’ Elise’s smile faded now into something less certain. ‘In one way or another I think it will. If I come back home it means I’ve somehow cocked everything up. If I’m as successful as I hope to be then I’ll get other projects and postings in other places. So I’m torn – I’ll miss home but I don’t want to come back because of what that will mean.’
‘But you’ll come to visit?’
Elise’s smile returned. ‘I suppose I can do that. You’ll be alright, won’t you? When I’m gone, I mean. You’ll be OK?’
‘You’re the one going to live next to a volcano – I ought to be asking you that.’
‘I’m sure everyone thinks I’m a bit mad. It hasn’t erupted for years, so fingers crossed it doesn’t start feeling frisky any time soon, eh?’
Emma chuckled. ‘That’s an understatement if ever I heard one.’
‘But, Em… promise me you won’t let everything get on top of you here. And remember I’m only a phone call away if you need to talk.’
‘You’ll have enough going on in Iceland and I’ve got plenty of people here if things do get a bit tricky, so you shouldn’t be worrying about that. You go and have your amazing adventure and don’t even look back, not for a second. Life is for living and I’m so happy you’re getting to live your dream.’
‘I still can’t quite believe it myself. How many people can say they’ve landed their dream job and actually mean it?’
‘Not many,’ Emma agreed. ‘But my clever little sister can.’
‘You only have a clever little sister because I have a clever big sister.’
Emma looked incredulous. ‘You’re the one with a degree.’
The Hotel at Honeymoon Station : A totally heartwarming romance about new beginnings Page 5
