Not only was I not wanted, but the coin I wear, the symbol of their ‘fairy tale’, is in fact what tore the family apart. But if they fought so bitterly over it, how did I end up with both halves?
I fold the letters away. I’ve read enough. I stretch my arms above my head and look out into the garden, where Sue and Monica are still refilling a bird feeder with seeds, one seed at a time.
‘Anything of interest?’ Monica asks as I walk out to join them.
‘They hated each other.’
‘They didn’t,’ says Sue, as Monica puts an arm around me.
‘That summer – I’ve never seen two people more in love. It might not have lasted, but there was certainly love there,’ says Monica.
I rub my palms over my eyes, feeling them prickle with emotion.
‘I’m sorry, it’s just, I thought I was coming to Jersey to write an epic love story, and instead I’ve found – I don’t know – some fantasy my mum invented.’
‘Right, I think we might need something a bit stronger than tea for this,’ says Monica, patting me on the back, then she calls towards the kitchen, ‘Sorry, Kitty, you haven’t done the trick this time.’
I laugh and wipe my eyes. Aunt Monica helps Sue back inside and then strides through to the kitchen and pulls three glasses from the cupboard. She decants a slosh of dark brown liquid into all three and then tops them up with a splash of ginger beer from the fridge. Trotting through to the living room, she hands one to me and the other to her sister.
‘Now, take it from two women with over a dozen decades of experience between us, there’s no such thing as a “happily ever after”. Maybe a “happy for now”, if you’re lucky.’
Sue nods in agreement.
‘People fight, people break up. It doesn’t mean it wasn’t real and it doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth having, Laura. All these films where people walk off into the sunset at the end and you’re led to believe all their problems are over …’
‘I quite agree,’ says Sue, ‘it’s a dangerous myth to peddle.’
‘I prefer action and adventure films myself. Have you seen Lethal Weapon? Oh, I do like that series. If you’re going to sit down and watch a lot of unrealistic hogwash, it might as well have explosions in it, that’s what I always say. Wasn’t Mel Gibson such a dish in his day? I was so upset when he died – I lined up all my ornamental pricklers, and we had a Mel movie marathon to mark his passing.’
‘I don’t think he’s dead, Monica,’ says Sue.
‘Isn’t he? Who am I thinking of, then?’
‘How am I to know what goes on in your head?’ Sue tuts.
I find myself smiling at the sisterly patter between them; it makes me miss Dee.
‘Are you married, Laura? Seeing anyone special?’ Sue asks.
‘No, I’m not. I haven’t had much luck with dating recently.’ I find myself trying to hide a smile. ‘Though funnily enough, I’ve met two men since being here.’
‘Two?’ both women say in unison, which makes me laugh.
‘An island this size, that must be a record,’ says Sue.
‘Well, well, spill the beans, girl,’ says Monica.
I bite my lip, trying to think what to say.
‘Well, one is perfect for me; we’ve got everything in common, and he seems to like me too—’
‘And the other?’ asks Monica.
I pause for a moment before answering.
‘The other one is more complicated, less suitable, and I don’t know if he likes me or not.’
‘But?’
‘But I can’t stop thinking about him.’
The truth of these words startles me, as I admit to myself how much I am thinking of Ted.
‘Well, there’s your answer,’ says Sue, tapping her forehead. ‘Men are like woodworm; once they’ve wheedled their way in, they’re almost impossible to get rid of. Even when you’ve had the wood treated, the holes are there to stay.’
I’m not sure this is the most romantic analogy I’ve ever heard.
‘Ah, it’s been a while since I’ve had any woodwormy wood,’ says Monica wistfully, causing me to splutter on my damson gin.
Declining another round of drinks, I say regretfully that I must go. I need to retrieve my computer, track down my phone and finalise the photo shoot tomorrow.
‘How long are you here for? You will stay in touch, won’t you?’ says my grandmother. ‘You should meet Graham’s children, your cousins once removed. You’re a Jersey girl at heart, Laura Le Quesne,’ and she pronounces it Ques-ne with a wink.
‘I’m not flying back until Wednesday now,’ I say, squeezing her hand, ‘and I would love to stay in touch.’
‘We could talk to Graham about having a meal with his brood, before you go,’ Sue turns her head towards Monica, who says, ‘We’ll do some plotting and let you know what we can organise.’
The idea alone plants a glow inside me. I always longed for more family, to be part of one of those scenes in Christmas movies when the extended family gets together – everyone brings a different dish and people tease each other, the way Jasper and his sisters do.
‘And you will take your father’s box?’ Sue asks.
I feel like saying I don’t want it, that I don’t want anything that belonged to my dad now, real or imagined.
‘I’m afraid I wouldn’t have room to take it on the plane. Plus, I came here on a bike.’
But Monica has already picked up the box from the floor and is walking towards the front door with it.
‘I’ll nip you back in the car, we’ll sling your bike in the boot. You’ll have a proper look through, see what you want to keep and throw the rest away. It will all just get put on the pyre when we pop our clogs otherwise. Sue, come on, polish off that piece of cake, and I’ll drop you back to yours en route.’
My heart sinks at the responsibility of throwing away the last vestiges of a man’s life. But then I look up at Sue and Monica, feel the warmth these women have shown me, and think of the family I am yet to meet. Something Ted said comes back to me – about love being a chain letter through the generations. Perhaps Dad and the coin caused a link to break, but now I am here, I can pick up the pieces of the chain once more.
Chapter 27
We drop Sue off at her house in St Ouen’s village. After untangling myself from the bicycle handlebars, which are poking over the seat from the boot, I get out of the car to say goodbye and she promises to be in touch. As we pull into Ted’s driveway, Monica leans over from the driver’s seat and attaches an enamel pin to my jacket. It has a picture of a hedgehog on it, and beneath are the words ‘I just needle little love’.
‘There, that’s better, isn’t it?’ she says. ‘Stay in touch, chickadee. It’s nice to know I have more family left out there in the world who don’t have prickles, ha ha!’
‘There’s one thing I don’t understand, Monica,’ I say before getting out. ‘How did I come to have both pieces of the coin? In Dad’s letters, he didn’t want Mum to have it.’
‘I don’t know,’ she says. ‘Annie claimed he had sent it to her before the accident, but I’m afraid Sue was never convinced she didn’t get it by deceit.’
Monica sees my face fall and reaches out to pat my hand. ‘Don’t let the ending ruin their story. They still met through the coin, fell in love, had you, loved you – both of them. The rest? Well…’ Monica sighs. ‘Maybe life’s more about carving out happy chapters than finding a single happy ending.’
She is right, it can’t all be about where it ends, and as I look across the car at her, I decide Aunt Monica isn’t the least bit mad.
Once I’ve taken Sandy’s bike back to her place, I stow the box of Dad’s things in the cottage. I want to change before going out to meet Jasper, but just as I’ve taken my clothes off, I hear another car on the gravel. Throwing on my dressing gown, I rush over to the window to see who it is. I hope it might be Ted, but it’s a black cab, and I squint to see who is inside.
A red-brogued foo
t stretches out of one door – a perfect made-to-measure camel-coloured petite trouser suit, huge sunglasses, the neat black chignon – Suki!
I dart away from the cottage window. I don’t know why I’m trying to hide – clearly, she’s here to see me. What in the name of Beelzebub is she doing here? Then I remember my lost phone, my unchecked emails. I dare another peek through the window. Suki is sniffing the air as though trying to pick up my scent.
‘Suki?’ I sidestep away from the window and into the open doorway.
She lifts her sunglasses and squints down at me, then says something to the cab driver and he turns off the engine.
‘Wh-what are you doing here?’ I ask, suddenly very aware it’s twelve noon and I’m currently wearing a dressing gown.
‘Looking for you, Little Miss Missing in Action. I’m glad you at least emailed with your new…’ She gestures towards the cottage. ‘Whereabouts.’
‘That’s sweet of you to worry, Suki,’ I say, folding my arms across my chest, ‘but I lost my phone, I’m not missing.’
‘Well, there’s been a change of plan, darling – we have a huge suitcase brand who want to sponsor this story. Travella luggage came on board last night,’ says Suki, holding up a smart leather holdall. ‘Love Life US loves it, too; they want to use the story for their launch next week, but they want it ASAP, so we need photos today, then we’ll send them the whole package with copy on Monday. This is bigger than simply our little family now, Laura. With you going off grid, I thought I needed to come and take control – steer this rudderless ship.’
I usher Suki over to the patio furniture outside Ted’s place. I’m not going to invite her into the cottage and make her sit on my un-made bed. She brushes off a chair with the back of her hand before sitting down.
‘So, is he on board, this chap of yours?’ Suki asks. ‘I was worried for a moment, when you went MIA, that he might have murdered you.’
I’m genuinely touched.
‘Ah, right, no, definitely alive. I’ve literally been offline for about’ – I look for my watch, but it’s not there – ‘well, less than eighteen hours. But in answer to your question, yes, Jasper is on board.’
‘Good, though a murder piece might have got us some clicks too, hey?’ She tries to grin, at least I think it’s a grin, it looks like a hiccup’s got stuck in her nostrils. ‘I jest, Laura; I’m immensely pleased you haven’t been murdered.’
I laugh politely, nervously knitting my fingers in my lap. I can’t believe Suki is here, in Jersey, for my suitcase story.
‘The most important thing now is the photo shoot. I want to be in and out of this wilderness by tomorrow afternoon.’ Suki gives the sea a distasteful look, brushing down her jacket, as though worried the air here might damage the fabric.
‘Dionne and Saul flew out with me; they went straight to scout locations as we weren’t sure what you’d lined up. Oh, and my man at the Mail has already said they’ll run it alongside a feature on our US launch.’ Suki claps her hands. ‘You couldn’t have timed this thing better if I’m honest, Laura. So, what have you organised?’
I can’t admit that I haven’t planned anything yet because I spent yesterday: discovering my parents’ love story was a lie, kissing two different men, attempting to live out a cabin-themed date fantasy, attending a sixty-fifth birthday party, and then making whimsical jewellery late into the night.
‘I’m sorry, Suki – I – what with persuading Jasper, and getting to know him, then losing my phone, I’m afraid the details of the shoot haven’t been locked in yet – I thought the team wouldn’t be arriving until tomorrow.’
Suki nods towards the cottage with a smirk.
‘He’s in there, is he?’
‘Oh no, no!’ I shake my head. Oh great, she thinks I’m in my dressing gown because I’ve just been lounging around having sex all morning. ‘He’s not here. I was just changing my clothes because I’ve been out exercising.’
Suki looks suspicious.
‘Well, I’m glad you’ve been having some delicious “exercise” time with your new beau. Maybe you’ll be less of a Moping Morag around the office now you’ve got yourself a ticket back to orgasm town.’
I make a pained mumbling noise. I really don’t need to talk to my employer about the status of my travel arrangements to orgasm town.
‘Well, anyway, I must get on,’ Suki says, getting to her feet, ‘cab’s waiting. You take an hour for this,’ she waves a hand at my face. ‘Get yourself … presentable. Here’s my spare phone,’ she says, taking a smartphone from her bag, ‘so we can stay in comms and you can bring your beau up to speed.’
‘Jasper was keen to do the shoot at his house,’ I say, feeling nervous to suggest it. ‘He sells kitchens.’
‘Laura, this isn’t an opportunity to sell things; this is a story of true love, of two people brought together by destiny!’ Suki throws up her hands.
‘A little reciprocal PR would make sure he’s definitely on board, and tagging more brands would gain us more cross-post content.’ I give her a hopeful grin.
Suki sighs, ‘Fine, give me the address. We’ll recon at his house at fourteen hundred hours, style you there, do some nicely lit couple photos, then head to the airport and beaches for coverage shots. Don’t you worry, Laura, we’ll keep your boy sweet.’
As soon as Suki’s gone, I pick up the phone she left me and download my contacts from the cloud. There are so many people I need to call. First, I ring Jasper and update him on the new plan for this afternoon; he sounds delighted, then says he must hurry off to ‘prepare the space’. Then I text Dee and Vanya to let them know I lost my phone and am staying in Jersey a few more days. I hover over Ted’s number. After changing my mind several times, I eventually send him a text saying simply – ‘Are you OK? Laura x’. Finally, I call Gran, just in case she’s been worrying about me, which of course she has. I reassure her I’m fine and then fill her in on my meeting with ‘Bad Granny’ this morning.
‘Gran, there’s one thing I don’t understand. How did I come to have both halves of the coin?’ I ask her.
‘Oh, that blasted coin!’ she says. ‘They argued about it for years, a lawyer even came knocking once – it was all deeply unpleasant.’
‘Why did she care so much, when it ended like it did?’ I ask.
‘She felt the coin was a part of your story as much as it was Margorie’s; she believed she must have found it for a reason – she didn’t want to let it go.’ Gran sighs, and I hear the sound of her Sudoku pencil tapping against the handset. ‘Before he left for Morocco, out of the blue, Alex sent her the other half, saying he wanted it to be yours, that the pieces should stay together.’
My eyes begin to itch. He’d wanted me to have it.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you any of this sooner, Laurie. Sometimes it feels better not to look backwards, to let the past stay in the past. When are you coming home?’
‘I’m going to stay a few more days actually, Gran, I – I’ve kind of met someone.’
‘Have you now,’ Gran says, instantly sounding more cheerful. ‘There must be something in the water on that island, I tell you. What’s his name then?’
And for a moment, I pause, because I don’t know which name I want to say.
Tiger Woman on Obligation
As women, we spend so much of our lives feeling obliged. Obliged to show up when we say we will, obliged to turn up with a smile, obliged to tell everyone, ‘I am fine.’ But obligated is just another word for oppressed. The only person you are obligated to is yourself.
Chapter 28
I’m rapidly running out of clothes. The legs of my capri pants are now dry, and they’re probably the smartest trousers I have with me. If I wear them with my backless grey silk blouse, Suki will hopefully deem me smart enough. Changed and made up, I’m about to leave the cottage when Ilídio comes over holding something large and square in his arms.
‘I just finished it,’ he said, holding it out for me to see. ‘Is
this how you imagined it?’
I press all my fingers to my lips. It is perfect. He’s made a memory cabinet to hang on the wall: a wooden frame, full of tiny drawers and shelves to stow trinkets and mementos in. I’ve read about them, but have never seen one in real life, so I just drew how I thought it should look. They are a way to keep memories of a person or a place, a distillation of details, which can be displayed almost as a piece of art.
‘It’s beautiful, just how I imagined it. This must have taken you hours.’
‘It did, but when you said it was for Ted, well… It’s a great idea.’ Ilídio glances across at me, ‘He’s lucky to have someone like you come into his life.’
Sans Ennui is still empty, but I leave the cabinet just inside the porch with a note:
Ted, something to hold the best memories of this house in. Thank you for everything, Laura
I’m waiting in the driveway for the cab I’ve ordered to take me to Jasper’s when Ted’s car pulls in. I freeze when I see him, every inch of my body remembering our last encounter. He gets out of the driver’s side and walks purposefully towards me. He looks a mess, as though he’s slept in his car.
‘Hi,’ I say, my voice coming out as a croak.
‘Hey,’ he says, resting one hand awkwardly on his hip; the other briefly massages between his brows. He does not meet my gaze. It’s ridiculous – he has been gone less than twenty-four hours, I have only known him a few days, but I realise I have missed him, missed his face.
‘I’m sorry I left yesterday – after the beach.’
‘It’s fine,’ I say, waving a hand as though to brush it off as nothing.
‘I tried to call you—’
He called me.
‘I lost my phone,’ I explain. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t give you the letter straight away. It was none of my business.’ He doesn’t correct me, but when he finally looks up and meets my gaze – it’s all still there, the kablammo that makes my entire body fizz. ‘Did you call Belinda?’
Just Haven't Met You Yet Page 25
