by kendra Smith
The bead glistened in the sun. Sue stopped twisting it and nodded at Maddie. ‘Absolutely genius, Maddie. But you’d have to run it, and if, after about six months, we weren’t making any money then we stop – deal?’
‘Deal.’ Maddie beamed. ‘We can have girls’ evenings, young mums who want to paint and get out the house, leaving bath time to their partners; older folk, it’s company for them – we can advertise in the care homes.’ Maddie wistfully thought of Olive cheering her on. Go, Maddie.
Later that day, Greg dropped Ed off again, but this time, he wandered in behind Ed, without an invitation. Maddie bit her lip to stop herself from grinning like an idiot as Taffie bounded up to him. ‘You silly old sausage.’ Taffie rolled around by his feet as Greg tickled his tummy, then he scooped him up in his arms, sat down in a chair and plonked Taffie in his lap like it was the most normal thing in the word.
‘Tea?’
He looked up at her from under his baseball cap and nodded. ‘Yes please. Do you want any help?’
‘Sure. Can you fill the kettle; make the tea? I’ll just butter some malt loaf from the café.’
He popped Taffie back on the floor and fiddled around with the kettle as Maddie carefully spread thick, creamy butter onto some slices of malt loaf. Ed came up behind her and snatched a piece. ‘Starving!’
They sat round the table and Ed poured everyone tea, took a big gulp of his, then scraped his chair back and crossed his legs. ‘Hard bloody work today!’ He grinned at Greg.
‘Yup, but you’re a natural, with the kids I mean.’ Greg reached over and took a slice of loaf. ‘We’ve had some instructors who have literally no idea how to speak to kids. They treat them like adults, shout at them even,’ Greg said, then bit into a chunk of loaf.
‘Yeah, well I’ve got a pretty good teacher.’ Ed playfully tipped the front of Greg’s baseball cap forward.
‘Hey!’ Greg laughed.
‘I’m taking a shower,’ Ed said standing up. ‘I’m covered in salt.’
Greg helped Maddie to clear up. She was acutely aware of the silence, but didn’t want to break the spell. Once they’d finished, Greg wandered into the lounge to look for Taffie. He was curled up on the rug by the hearth. Greg bent down and stroked the little dog’s fur. As he stood up, he glanced at the mantelpiece and stared at the photos. She couldn’t place the look on his face as she stood in the doorway watching him, his hands thrust into the pockets of his shorts, his head to one side.
‘Would you like to stay for supper?’
He turned abruptly to her. ‘No. I need to get back to the centre, but…’ He paused. ‘Thank you.’
She went over to the sofa and sat down. Greg picked up the photo of Ed in the paddling pool from the mantelpiece, then came and sat next to her. Taffie bounded up and snuggled by his feet.
‘She couldn’t have kids you know,’ he said, turning the photo around in his hands. His eyes were solemn.
‘Who?’ Maddie spread her hands out on her lap.
‘Tiggy.’
Maddie leant back on the sofa with a thump. Suddenly it all made more sense.
‘I had no idea.’
Greg pushed his fringe off his face and turned to her, nodding. ‘I know you didn’t.’
‘Is that why you broke up?’
‘Partly – because of the strain, yes. Four rounds of IVF puts massive pressure on any marriage, but especially when you’re part Greek, and your mother and father make you feel like a failure if you don’t produce grandchildren. Tiggy came from a very large family – her parents used to ask Tiggy every month if she was pregnant. It was exhausting. Sometimes,’ he said softly, turning the photo around in his hands, ‘sometimes I think I wanted them more than her, that she was just going along with it to please me and her parents.’ He ran his thumb along the edge of the photo. His eyelashes brushed his cheek as he looked down at a grinning Ed splashing a plastic boat in the shot.
Maddie folded her arms across her chest. ‘You said—’ she coughed, not knowing if she wanted to ask ‘—partly. That was partly to blame, the strain – and what else?’ She was aware of her breathing.
‘Because I couldn’t give her all my heart, Maddie.’ Greg stared at her.
‘Where was the rest of it?’ It came out like a whisper.
He shifted on the sofa and looked at her. ‘I think you know the answer to that.’
‘Why are you telling me now?’
‘To make you understand.’ And with that, he put his hands on his knees, got up slowly and went into the hall.
‘You don’t have to go.’
He stopped by the door and turned around. ‘Yes, yes, I do.’
And so the pain made more sense now. How devastated he must have felt to find out he had a son, the son he could never have with Tiggy. And yet, Maddie had had no idea. She’d thought he’d walked away from her, that it was for the best as her mother had told her. Maybe a few months ago, when he’d trusted her, when it was going well, maybe then if she’d told him it could have all been so different. He’d always said he couldn’t tolerate lies. She pulled her legs up in front of her and hugged them as the front door closed.
She pulled out her paints from their box by the sofa and opened her sketchpad. She flicked to her latest painting; it was of two hummingbirds circling each other, their wings entwined. She sat for a while, drawing the delicate shapes of the birds, their fragile wings, the tiny beaks, then she traced a few outlines with paint, then snapped the sketchbook shut. It wasn’t working this time. They just weren’t right.
She wanted to dislodge the disquiet in her soul so she stood up and headed to the kitchen and wiped down all the surfaces. She could hear Ed singing in the shower upstairs.
As she scrubbed out the sink she looked out to the bay at the beautiful sunset. Life can be so cruel, she thought. Poor Tiggy. She tipped the water out of the bowl, watching it swirl in a circle and drain away – it felt like all her hope was draining away too. She stood with her hands outstretched on either side of the cold sink and wiped her cheek on her shoulder.
This was beyond repair. He was so near… and yet so far away from her emotionally. And it was her doing. But perhaps even if she couldn’t have a relationship with Greg, it looked like Ed could. His father. She picked up a wine glass from the draining board, determined to look for the positives, twisting a tea towel tightly inside it. Round and round went the towel as her mind calmed a flurry of thoughts. Suddenly, the glass edge smashed in her hand, and she cut her fingers. Blood oozed down her hand and over the glass, undoing all the weeks of healing.
67
Maddie was in bed, rubbing cream into her hands. It was a Sunday in early September. It had been two weeks since she’d last seen Greg. There was just a very slight chill in the air in the mornings when she let Taffie out into the garden. Her hand had started to heal again, after the nurse at the doctor’s surgery had bandaged it up and scolded her for not being careful. She had only cut two fingers, but they had been deep cuts.
It was a bright, sparkling kind of day outside. Maddie loved this time of year. She glanced out the window to the sapphire-blue sky with streaks of white clouds, to the bay stretching out ahead, and knew the air would be fresher today. She realised that this time last year was when her life was turned upside down. The school dinner lady had had quite a year, whether she’d liked it or not: finding Greg again, going to Bali, coming home, poor Olive passing away, the beautiful cottage, Tim’s devastating revelations, her pottery, her son engaged.
She looked at the scarring on her hands and thought of Ed. The centre had placed him on the other side of the island this week where the winds weren’t so strong, to help run a windsurfing course all week with a school group of beginners. Teaching children seemed to come naturally to him. Ed had been more and more animated about the club, and about sailing. He was taking an Inshore master course, and according to Greg and a few others, he should have enough hours soon, he just needed to get more experience.
&nbs
p; He poked his head round her bedroom door, dark hair stuck up at odd angles.
‘Mum? Greg’s just called. There’s a boat that was meant to be chartered today from the sailing club, but the guy’s ill and the skipper says it’s free if we want it. Fancy coming? Greg says that if I help him skipper the boat I’d be able to clock more hours for my Day Skipper certificate.’
Me, Ed, Greg? Maddie didn’t think twice. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Are you quite sure he wants both of us?’
‘That’s what he said.’
There seemed to have been a shift in the status quo. Ed was full of life, animated when he talked about sailing, about how much he’d learnt from Greg. He was also busy getting all his modules finalised for university. Adity was still in Bali helping her parents with her granny’s estate and clearing out her small house. Granny G had slipped away quietly last month, but had left a mountain of possessions to sort through. Adity would be here in four weeks. They were waiting for news on a small one-bedroom flat he’d been to see on the high street and in six weeks the two of them would start uni.
She looked up at Ed’s smiling face in the doorway, the way his fringe flopped over his forehead – just, she realised, like Greg. She noticed the promise in his eyes and almost winced. She remembered that feeling – having a life ahead of you to live. She sighed, hauling herself up on her elbows – she needed all her energy for the day ahead.
Maybe today would be a good chance to try and build some more bridges, to make sure they were friends, before she left Brightwater Bay and moved on. She had nothing to lose.
He came and sat down on the bed. ‘What do you think? Mum?’
‘Yes, of course, that would be great.’
Ed shifted on the bed and smoothed down a section of the duvet cover.
‘How’s it going with Greg?’ Maddie leant on her elbow. ‘You’re getting on with him, now, aren’t you?’
Ed nodded. ‘Yeah, I am. He’s taught me a lot. But, well, yeah, he’s all right. I can see why you guys used to be close. He’s cool.’
Cool. That would do.
‘Right, let’s get going.’ She reached out and ruffled his hair. ‘Oh, but what about Taffie?’
‘Greg says bring him!’ Ed grinned, jumping up from the bed and looking out the window. ‘He says we should be all right if we get going now, because the weather looks a bit iffy for later.’
Maddie threw her feet out the side of the bed, took a quick shower and spent rather longer than normal on her hair and make-up. She tried on about three pairs of shorts before deciding on her cut-off denim ones, then scolded herself for spending so long on something so trivial. He doesn’t care, Maddie. Nevertheless, she shook her hair down over her shoulders, smeared some tinted sun cream over her face, a bit of mascara, some blusher and then she had a word with herself in the mirror: Stop it, she said, as she looked back at that hopeful face.
*
They took the costal road to the sailing club further along the bay. The sun was out overhead, shining on the sea, and as Maddie looked out ahead of her, the waters appeared calm and shiny. Glints of the sun’s rays reflected back at her as she took in the water’s edge snaking round the shore’s contours like a lace ribbon. It looked very inviting from this distance.
When they pulled up at the sailing club, Maddie glanced out at the horizon again. There were a few mushroom-coloured clouds gathering, but it was still bright. As they hopped out the car, a large cloud eclipsed the sun for a moment and she shivered, then it popped back out again and she could feel the warmth on her shoulders as she hauled their belongings from the boot. She clipped a lead onto a very excitable Taffie, who was wagging his fluffy tail and barking. They made their way to the entrance.
The sailing club was a hive of activity: people were rushing from place to place, using terms she didn’t understand, talking about the weather, last week’s racing and what was on in the bar that evening. It was a world that Ed clearly seemed to be enjoying as he chatted to a few people as they rushed past. Hi, Ed. Hey, Ed, good to see you. Good morning, winds are strong. You taking the thirty-footer? She stood next to him, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She yanked down her T-shirt and smiled at a few people passing by.
‘This way, Mum,’ Ed said, taking the lead from her and pulling Taffie away from a patch of carpet he was sniffing intently.
Ed led her down a pontoon to where the boat was moored. Taffie was straining at the lead, his little feet making clip-clip noises on the wood. The wind had picked up a bit and she gazed up at the sky; she could hear the halyards clanking on the various masts, and the seagulls screeching overhead. A couple of gulls were at the end of the jetty fighting over a stray chip that was lying on the ground, each of them doing a dance and hopping animatedly about, trying to get the morsel for themselves.
She shivered. It had become quite chilly all of a sudden. She breathed in the briny sea air but also a whiff of diesel fumes. Ed stopped by one of the boats. It was a thirty-foot sailing yacht with a cockpit at the stern and a wheel. Greg poked his head out from the cabin, then emerged on deck wearing a white T-shirt and biscuit-coloured shorts, boat shoes, and sunglasses. He flicked them up off his face and rubbed his eyes. ‘Hi there.’ There was a weariness about him; he looked exhausted, Maddie thought, but he gave them a welcoming smile. When Taffie saw him, the terrier started to yap at Greg, tail wagging and strained at the lead to get to him.
‘Hop on,’ Greg said, taking the lead from Ed so Taffie bounded on.
Ed leapt on board easily, then Maddie took Greg’s hand, trying not to notice how warm and strong it was as she stepped on board. He didn’t catch her eye, just looked out to the distance, then back again to make sure she was on safely. ‘Right, we’d better get going. I’ve packed a few picnic things and I’ll make coffee later, once we’re out of the harbour. I think we will be all right this morning but we need to be back by lunch. We’ll head out to Alum Bay,’ he said glancing at his watch, and then up at the sky. ‘Here, both of you put these on.’ He threw Maddie and Ed lifejackets.
Maddie fiddled with the straps and clipped her lifejacket on, then sat on the seat in the cockpit at the back of the boat, with Taffie curled up by her feet, as Ed and Greg wandered around the boat, yanking at the fenders along the side and sorting out the shore lines. Greg came back to the cockpit and reached down below the wheel and turned the engine on. ‘Ed, release the shore lines, will you?’ he instructed as the roar of the engine increased and Taffie cowered at Maddie’s feet. She put a reassuring hand on his head.
They slowly moved away from the pontoon. After a while, they were making good progress and heading out of the bay towards the open sea. The sun was still out and it was pleasantly warm on her face. All of a sudden the sun dipped behind a cloud: her legs were covered in goose bumps and she rubbed her hands together, looking up to see an enormous aubergine-coloured cloud had eclipsed the sun. She could hear Greg issuing instructions to Ed, who was tidying away the mooring lines and fenders into lockers. She watched them busy themselves with various tasks, proud that Ed was enjoying this so much.
‘Now what are you doing?’ She squinted at Ed.
‘I’m getting ready to hoist the mainsail.’ He grinned at her, clearly at home with all the paraphernalia.
She glanced towards Greg. It was hard not to admire his solid frame, taking control, helping Ed with the ropes, shouting instructions and joking along with Ed. It had taken time, but it looked to her like the initial animosity between him and Ed had dissipated. She felt a rush of pride that the two of them were able to work like this together on the boat, share a passion as – she gulped when she formed the words in her brain – father and son.
‘Ed, when I say so, let’s get the mainsail up.’
Ed confidently winched the mainsail up as Maddie marvelled at the big white canvas being hoisted so far above her head. Greg was at the wheel.
‘Unfurl the jib, Ed!’ Greg shouted. The sail plumed with air, as the boat started to heel. W
ith that, Greg cut the engine. There was peace. Maddie smiled and looked out at the bluey-green waters. Herring gulls swooped and whirled up above them, calling to each other, dipping down to the cloudy water from time to time, breaking up the surface.
Taffie ran up and down the boat and then put his paws up on the side, barking at the waves and the gulls. A seagull swooped down low towards the boat and Taffie jumped up, barking at it, nearly falling overboard.
‘Taffie! You crazy dog!’ Maddie yanked on his lead and told him sternly to ‘sit’ next to her feet. He dutifully nestled by her feet, but kept looking up to see what he was missing.
It had become decidedly breezy as the wind had picked up the further out they had gone. So this was it, her world in a boat, the two people she loved the most. She crossed her fingers tightly. It looked like they were slowly building some bridges between them. Even if Greg was distant with her for the rest of her life, she reasoned, she’d been able to broker things between him and Ed. She crossed her ankles, one over the other, and looked out at the sea. Sometimes I think I wanted kids more than her… Greg’s words were playing in a nonstop loop as she looked at Ed and frowned.
The sea was quite choppy now. Maddie stared at the bow of the boat as it ploughed through the water, white foam gathering at either side. She wished things could be different between her and Greg.
‘Here.’ Suddenly he was next to her and she looked up. He handed her a steaming cup of coffee in a small tin mug.
She took the cup from him and stood up. ‘Thanks.’ She had to stand with both legs quite far apart to get her balance. The sea was much lumpier further out in the harbour. She glanced up and saw that Ed was at the helm. She took a sip of the strong brew and felt it travel down her throat, warming her up.
