by Linda Huber
Ed was still a worry. Nothing had changed since their afternoon walk on the cliff top, in fact, they saw even less of him now. Baby deer had arrived in the park, and according to Ed, he needed to spend a lot of time with them – at least, that was his excuse. The move to Cornwall had hit their marriage hard.
A coach driver blasted his horn as two teenage boys ran across the road, and nostalgia surged beside Nicola’s loneliness. Oh, for the taste of traffic fumes in her mouth on her daily commute across London. She knew exactly how her daughter felt. Nicola gave herself a mental shake. It wasn’t time to give up on Cornwall, but that move into St Ives she’d suggested would do them all good. Nicola flipped the cover from her mobile to see the time – four o’clock, school would be out. She tapped into her contacts.
‘Kel? I’m in St Ives. Meet me at the pier and we’ll go for coffee – then would you like to choose some earrings as part of your birthday pressie?’ Young voices filling the background with post-school shrieks made her hold the phone away from her ear.
Kelly’s enthusiasm was muted. ‘Okay. I guess.’
‘See you in ten, then.’
Kelly was already there, her nose pointing downwards and thumbs dancing over her phone when Nicola arrived at the pier. The street running along the edge of harbour was busy, and she grinned at her daughter.
‘Feels like we’re back in civilisation here, doesn’t it?’
Kelly rolled her eyes. ‘The Atlantic to our right, and a bunch of minute shops and a couple of galleries to our left. Yeah, one hundred per cent civilised.’
Nicola gave her a little push. ‘Come on, Ms Grumpy. What’s it to be – hot choc with marshmallows, or posh coffee and gooey cake? You choose.’
Kelly didn’t miss a beat. ‘Hot choc and gooey cake.’
The café was only half full. Nicola leaned back as the waitress deposited large mugs of calorific sweetness on the table. They should do this more often. Kelly’s expression was serene as she forked up Black Forest gateau, and Nicola attacked her carrot cake as if she’d been starved for a month. Out with her girl; this was better. Their table by the window overlooked the street, and the sun-kissed sands of Harbour Beach further along the road were beckoning. Living here would be fab in summer, and hopefully, Kelly would think so too. Surfing lessons?
‘About your birthday,’ she said, waving her cake fork. ‘Let’s make a plan for the day. Would you like to invite a couple of friends after school – we could make pizza?’
Kelly prodded at the marshmallows on her hot chocolate. ‘I don’t know who I’d invite, here.’
Nicola thought swiftly. In London, they’d always done something with Jess on Kelly’s birthday. No new classmate was going to measure up to that friendship. ‘We could go to a restaurant, then, just the three of us? You’ll see Jess at Rock Home, you could do something to celebrate there, too.’
A little smile wandered across Kelly’s face, but she didn’t lift her eyes from her cake. Nicola sipped her coffee. She’d need to work out for hours to burn off those calories, but Kelly was happy, so it was all worthwhile. ‘Drink up, and we’ll go for your earrings – and let’s swing past the tourist info place on the way back to the car. Find out what’s going on in town this summer.’
Home again, she hid Kelly’s birthday presents in her wardrobe. Ed was working in the cellar, which apparently needed something horrendously complicated done to the stairs. Nicola had started down with a beer for him at the weekend and he’d almost bitten her head off about risking life and limb.
She opened the cellar door and called down. ‘I’m doing spaghetti, what sauce would you like?’
‘Pesto. Be up in a minute.’
Dinner was a quick meal – Kelly picked at her spaghetti then went upstairs to study, and Ed ate an enormous portion and returned to the cellar. Nicola cleared up, aching for the old closeness in their family unit.
As usual, Ed downed tools around nine and came up to watch the news, and Nicola seized her chance. She perched beside him on the sofa and put a hand on his leg.
‘About the house – the more I think about it, the more I think renting it out would be the best solution. Living in St Ives would be easier for everyone. We could–’
He turned on her, his voice unsteady. ‘You’re not being reasonable. If we’re renting it out, we should turn it into flats, and that would take money – and months. We’re stuck here for the foreseeable and it’s your fault.’
He jabbed at the remote, and football blared into the room.
Nicola was silent. What was the point? They should have sold this place at the start, and moved somewhere like Eastbourne, where Kel would have had her fresh start and London was at least in comfortable travelling distance. What a mess this was.
Chapter Thirteen
Friday, 12th June
History was the worst waste of time ever. Kelly gazed out of the window as Mr Williams’ gravelly voice droned on and on, but there was nothing to see except a row of poxy trees swaying in the poxy wind from the poxy Atlantic. And what use any of this would be when she started doing geography at uni was a mystery. Half of school was pointless.
‘Kelly? If you could manage to tear yourself away from whatever meaningful thoughts are going through your head, and concentrate on the Gulf War, you might find it easier to pass your GCSE next month.’
Kelly jerked in fright, almost sweeping her highlighter to the floor. She grabbed it in the nick of time, cursing silently. How to look clueless without even trying, and what was he doing, creeping up on her like that? ‘We did it in London,’ she said, injecting as much boredom into her voice as she dared. Someone tittered, and Kelly nearly died of embarrassment. ‘The Gulf War, I mean.’
‘Really? Tell you what, you can write me an essay on what you learned there about the Gulf War – the one that took place in the nineties – and hand it in on Monday. Around five hundred words will give you scope to do the subject justice.’ Mr Williams slid back to the front of the class amid several more titters.
Kelly stared woodenly at the whiteboard for the rest of the lesson and escaped as soon as the bell rang. Thank God it was Friday; and how she wished she was going to Jess’s like she used to on Friday nights. Hot tears swam in her eyes as she swung her rucksack over one shoulder and stomped outside.
‘We did it in London, we did it in London…’ The chant came from behind, following her across the playground, becoming ever louder as more and more kids joined in, half of them not knowing what it was about.
Kelly wheeled round. ‘You can–’ She stopped. If she swore at these kids, she might end up with a longer essay to write. ‘Babies!’ She spat the word at the little crowd, then strode off.
Something hit her back, shit, they were chucking lunch boxes at her. Kelly spun round as four, five, six plastic containers rained around her. Stupid effing kids… Hot rage rising, she kicked out at the blue lunch box at her feet.
‘We did it in-’
‘What is going on here? Who threw these boxes?’
Most of the kids melted away, and Kelly stood still, fighting tears. Now her effing biology teacher was involved.
‘Are you hurt, Kelly?’
Kelly shook her head. For the life of her, she couldn’t say anything. She’d have howled if she’d opened her mouth.
‘Will the owners of these lunch boxes pick them up, please.’
Say what you liked about Mrs Shipton; she couldn’t half do crowd control. Kelly stood still, trying to breathe normally as the kids scrabbled in silence to retrieve their boxes.
‘Thank you. I surmise that for some reason I don’t want to know about, Kelly was providing target practice for the rest of you. That is not how we expect people to behave at your age. If I hear another thing about this sorry little episode, you will all be in serious danger of having letters sent to your parents. Now put these boxes into your rucksacks and go home.’
Kelly fled the playground while the others were still stuffing boxes into their bags.
Her bus was approaching and she jumped on, glad to have escaped. And she was bloody well going to escape this whole hateful town, too, and get back to the only place she wanted to be.
The bus trundled along and dropped her at the top of Coast Road. Kelly sprinted home and took the stairs two at a time. Dad was still at work, and Mum wouldn’t be back for half an hour. If she was quick, she could catch the bus again on its way back into town, and get a train up to Paddington. She’d be at Jess’s by eleven… they couldn’t send her back tonight.
She stuffed a pair of jeans and a top into a bag, grabbed her savings purse and ran. No one was waiting at the bus stop and she leaned against it, panting. Come on, come on… stupid country bus, where was–?
Her mother’s car drew up beside her, and Kelly burst into tears.
Back inside, Mum made coffee while Kelly sat at the table trying to explain what had gone wrong. No way was she going to admit what had really happened, so she made it about the Gulf War punishment.
Mum wasn’t looking convinced. ‘This all sounds like something and nothing – is it?’
Kelly rolled her eyes. Mum had no idea. ‘Apart from the essay…’
‘Right. But Kel, why try to run off like that? It’s not like you to get het up over a punishment essay.’
Why did nobody see what it was like? ‘I wanted to be in London with my friends, didn’t I? Not here where I don’t have any and everything’s so crappy.’
To Kelly’s surprise, all her mother did was slide her chair up close and hug her. For a second, she sat stiffly, then she relaxed into Mum’s Arts Centre top and Jil Sander perfume.
‘You daft brush, Kelly, but I can sympathise. I miss people too, and it isn’t easy to make new friends when you’re not a child any more. But running away for the weekend isn’t the answer. Let’s try to work out ways to improve things for you. Your dad and I have been talking about moving into St Ives. That would make things easier.’
Brilliant. She’d be even closer to these awful kids. Kelly took a deep breath and freed herself from the hug. ‘No one wants to be my friend here. What am I supposed to do?’
‘That’s what we’re going to work out. Okay, here’s my suggestion. You go up and write that wretched essay before dinner – get it out of the way. I’ll phone for a curry, and we’ll both think up some ideas and talk again. How’s that?’
‘S’pose.’ At least there was a good Indian takeaway in St Ives.
Ed’s feet trailed along the path to the staff car park. It was time to go home, and the trees on either side were providing the last little piece of shady tranquillity he’d see today. His heart rate increased tenfold when he drove into Coast Road every evening, and the tightness in his head would only relax again when he was driving in the other direction. The park was his sanctuary these days.
The cellar renovation wasn’t going forward. The stairs were fixed – two minutes’ work had fixed the loose board on the second step. The rooms down there were in the same layout as the bedroom floor, with a small room that Nicola wanted as a storeroom, and a large one, where he now spent much of his time. It was his father’s old ‘workshop’. Not that any work had ever been done there, or not by Dad, anyway. Before that it had been his grandfather’s workshop, if the vast and ancient machines and fittings were anything to go by. It was a place to escape and smoke the odd fag, now. If you could escape in a place that had your blood pressure soaring, and that was before he even thought about the third room down there. He hadn’t been in that one since – don’t think about it, Ed.
He opened the car door and sat down sideways, feet still on the ground. Nic was right; they would be happier in St Ives. But if they sold to the holiday lets people, the house would be cheaply renovated, the garden flattened and – no, no, that was much too risky. Selling wasn’t an option, and turning the house into flats himself meant he’d have to borrow massively; it just wasn’t logical and anyway, as owner he’d still have to be back and forward all the time. It was a dead end in a one-way street. His whole life was going to come tumbling down on top of him and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Ed stood up slowly. He didn’t need to go home yet; a walk would do him good. He set out, breathing in woodland air, searching, searching for peace, for answers where none existed.
Whatever he did, the demon past was hovering, waiting to catch him out. Had he ever been this afraid?
Oh, yes.
Nicola loaded the dishwasher after dinner, half an eye on Kelly, watching some soap at the other end of the room. Had she handled things well, or hadn’t she? Running off to Jess’s for the weekend, that was bad. Imagine if she hadn’t found Kel at the bus stop… But screaming her own fear and frustration at the girl would be no help at all. Whatever she did, she had to make Kelly see her parents trusted her. And why was she having to do all this alone? Because Ed was still at the park, of course, and the main problem was, could they trust Kelly not to run off again? Gawd. She needed some air.
She grabbed the compost container from the window ledge and strode towards the back door. It was a balmy evening. The spring breeze ruffling her hair, and the ocean glinting blue in the distance were balm of a different kind, too. This was a lovely place, but what good were lovely surroundings when you were miserable? Nicola emptied the container into the compost bin and wandered back, her steps slowing. She’d always wanted a garden like this, with a rose bed and an ancient apple tree and plenty of grass space. If they’d been going to stay here, she’d have chopped down those overgrown shrubs and bushes and made a lovely herbaceous border between their garden and Dorothy’s.
She was almost back at the house when Dorothy appeared on her driveway. Nicola went to the fence. ‘Anything nice planned for the weekend?’
Dorothy’s face lit up. ‘Yes! I’m off to Brighton for a couple of days. Phoebe’s brother breeds golden Labradors, and I’m going up to help them choose one. Mia’s so excited.’
Nicola smiled; Dorothy’s pleasure was infectious. ‘Ooh, fun – and their new flat has a garden, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes. You’ll see the pup when they all come down in the summer holidays.’
Nicola chatted for a few more minutes, then went inside and flopped into an armchair. Kelly on the sofa was hugging her Shaun the sheep cushion as usual, and Nicola looked at her thoughtfully. A pet might be a fun addition to the family. Weren’t animals supposed to help reduce stress? Her sense of humour asserted itself; they should get a dog each.
‘Rob’s bringing a Labrador puppy to stay in the summer hols,’ she announced when the commercial break came on, grinning when Kelly brightened immediately.
‘Wow. Do you think they’ll let me take it for walks sometimes?’
‘Sure to. Wait for a really rainy day, then ask.’
Kelly giggled, and Nicola leaned back, satisfied.
Kelly kept her head down on Monday morning, but none of the others at school mentioned what had happened on Friday, and Amy, who hadn’t been one of the lunch box throwers, came over to chat at break time, so school was almost bearable for a change. Mum had said it took time to make friends, and suggested that Kelly made more of an effort with one or two girls instead of trying to impress the entire class. At least, she hadn’t put it in those exact words, but that was what she’d meant. Kelly grimaced. She had to do something – imagine being all alone all the summer hols. She’d go bananas. If she and Jess did manage to give Jess’s dad the slip at Rock Home, she could probably kiss goodbye to visits to London until she went to uni. It would be worth it, though. Rock Home was going to be ace.
At twelve, she dragged her feet along to the lunch room and joined Beth and Amy. Mum had said the best way to start a conversation was to ask a question – she would try it.
‘Do you know anything about surfing courses around here? I’d love to learn.’
The girls fell over themselves to tell her how brilliant the sea off Porthmeor beach was and how they’d learned to surf before they could walk, almost, a
nd Kelly walked to the history class in the middle of a crowd of enthusiastic surfers. Two friends – almost – and her punishment essay was ace, even Mr Pay Attention would be happy with it. This was a better day.
Chapter Fourteen
Saturday, 20th June
Nicola stared out as rain streamed down the windows at the living area end of the room. Wow. Puddles were merging on the driveway – in fact there was more puddle than gravel out there now. Tall trees and shrubs in the garden were bending at impossible angles as westerly gales buffeted the house. They got serious weather here in Cornwall, and there was nothing to shelter behind between the Atlantic and this house bar a thin belt of greenery. And come to think of it, was the roof secure? The chances of getting workmen out to replace slates at the weekend would be negligible.
She turned back into the room, where Ed was tapping away at his laptop from the comfort of the sofa. They had slid into a non-communicative side-by-side and yet far apart kind of life, and nothing she tried could change that. Kelly was upstairs, working for next week’s exams. Nicola pulled a face. The poor lamb had her French exam on Tuesday and biology on Friday, with her birthday sandwiched in between. Still, Friday afternoon would see her daughter en route for Rock Home, and Kelly’s eyes shone every time the concert was mentioned, no matter how cool she was trying to be about it. Nicola was going to drive her up, stay the night with Mary in Blackheath, then drive home again on Saturday. On Sunday, Sue and Ben had kindly offered to drive the girls to Salisbury, where Nicola would pick Kelly up again. A lot of driving, but seeing Kelly happy would be worth it.
She was about to broach this with Ed when her phone shrilled out from the kitchen table. It was her father, and Nicola knew straightaway something was wrong. His voice was trembling like an old, old man’s.
