Come Back For Me

by Heidi Perks

  She eyes me over the rim of her glasses.

  ‘I can’t not go,’ I tell her, almost breathless at my decision.

  Chapter Six

  By eleven thirty the following morning I am standing at the edge of the harbour, waiting in line with a number of other passengers who would have once been waiting for my dad’s small ferry. Now double-decked bright boats line up like ducks in a row and a kiosk sells tickets for around-the-island cruises. One thing hasn’t changed, though – there is still only one run a day in winter to Evergreen and it’s leaving in fifteen minutes.

  My parents would have hated that a large company took over, but I’m pleased for its generic unfamiliarity. I don’t know how I would have handled seeing someone else in Dad’s place.

  In my left hand I clutch a ticket, rubbing its edge with my fingers to the point it is starting to disintegrate.

  Someone once told me that the difference between fear and excitement is two inches, and what I once thought of as a flippant remark now feels closer to the truth than ever. Everything I fear about setting foot on Evergreen also excites me, and the two mould together until I can no longer separate them.

  From the mainland I can’t see Evergreen. Blocking it are other islands, mostly uninhabited, and Evergreen hides behind them, out of sight. Most of the other passengers will disembark at Brownsea, an island set up for tourists. Hardly any of them venture as far as Evergreen.

  Last night I rang the number of a woman named Rachel who was renting out rooms in her house on the island. She didn’t call it a B&B, but I took from her posting she intended as much. I doubted she was busy. Regardless of recent events, January wouldn’t drive many visitors, but still she was reluctant to let me stay.

  ‘It’s just for three nights,’ I begged.

  She pulled in a tight breath. ‘I don’t know what you want to come over here for at the moment anyway. And you’re not police?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘But my family lived on the island a long time ago. There are old friends I want to see.’

  ‘Like who?’ she tested me.

  ‘Annie Webb,’ I said, thinking of the one person most likely to still be there, if she were still alive. I held my breath as I waited for an answer.

  ‘I don’t know …’

  ‘Please,’ I begged. ‘You’ll hardly know I’m there.’

  ‘Three nights?’

  ‘Just three.’

  ‘Fine,’ she huffed, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ and promptly hung up.

  I wondered how many paying guests she’d actually ever had. Most of the visitors to Evergreen went because they were looking for an adventure, but there was little to do on the island that couldn’t be done in a day.

  Dad often came back after work and relayed the comments he’d overheard, like ‘What a quaint existence’, and ‘Why would anyone want to hide away from the rest of the world?’

  I didn’t like the way visitors spoke of the island as though there was something secretive about it. ‘Why would they say that?’ I asked Mum, but she used to laugh it off.

  ‘They’re jealous,’ she told me. ‘Who wouldn’t want to live here?’

  ‘But why do they think we are hiding?’ I persisted. I imagined Evergreen tucking itself in tighter behind Brownsea so no one would know we were there. And then I pictured all of us islanders crouching down behind the trees as soon as someone stepped off Dad’s ferry so we couldn’t be seen.

  Mum tried her best to explain it wasn’t meant that way. ‘Some people just don’t see the beauty in it,’ she’d said. ‘Not like we can.’ In time, I realised there was something magical and mysterious about the idea of us hiding. But now, I am standing on the other side. I am the one searching, and I don’t know who’s hiding from me.

  ‘Are you coming on?’

  I look up sharply at the man on the ferry, before glancing down at the steel walkway.

  ‘We need to get going if you are, love. Are you waiting for someone?’

  ‘No, I’m …’

  ‘You need a hand?’

  I shake my head and inhale a deep lungful of sea air that feels like a brick as it jars in my throat. ‘I’m coming,’ I say, and he stands aside to let me pass. Despite the cold, I climb to the top deck and find a seat on the right-hand side because it is from here I will see Evergreen most clearly.

  As we pull away from the jetty, my stomach lurches and I close my eyes to quell the sensation I’m about to burst. I have thought about this moment forever and now that I am here it is surreal. Questions flood my mind: will it still look the same? What if I don’t see anyone I know? How will Jill defend her reason for not staying in touch? What’s it going to be like to stand in front of my old house again? My eyes snap open and I grip on to the side with the hand that still clutches my ticket. It is that, I realise, which scares me the most.

  We reach Brownsea where most of the passengers climb off. I am the only one on the top deck now. Dark clouds threaten rain, but I am here because I know it’s only a matter of moments until I catch a first glimpse of my island, and I want to see it clearly and not through the steamed-up glass below.

  Once more I lean towards the edge, my breath sticking in my throat, tears pricking my eyes as we begin to round Brownsea, until piece by piece I see it. A thin line of sand. The skyline of the trees. The points where those trees dip and you can see where the reservoir lies beyond. The opening of the quay, bare of boats, waiting for our arrival.

  I cry out and hold my hand over my mouth. My heart races as my gaze sweeps across the horizon one way and then back the other, trying to take it all in. For this is what I’ve dreamt about since the day we left. Seeing this sight again. Coming home.

  Evergreen Island

  1 July 1993

  When Maria looked back to the start of the summer she often asked herself if she’d had any sense of foreboding of what lay ahead. Did anything feel amiss or had there been a change in the wind as it blew over the island? She always came back to the same conclusion – there was no possible way to know how much everything was about to change, and therefore there was nothing she could have done differently. But the thoughts would continue to taunt her, that possibly she just hadn’t been watching closely enough.

  It started one very hot day at the beginning of July. She could remember it so clearly, and if there were such a thing as a switch that could divert your life on to a completely different track then that was the moment she’d have chosen to use it.

  From Danny’s bedroom Maria had a good view of the jetty. Especially on clear days, like that morning, when the sky was a perfect pale blue and the sun dappled the surface of the water, making it look like it was covered in tiny crystals.

  She’d soon see David’s boat when it pulled into the quay and right then she was watching her daughter, Stella, standing on the dock, waving wildly. She could probably see her dad coming back. It was only the first return run of the day and David would be turning around more or less straight away. With the summer forecasted to be a hot one, they expected good business to set them up nicely for winter.

  It was past ten, which meant David was running a few minutes late. She pulled away as she contemplated whether to join Stella or stay out of the way. There were newcomers scheduled to arrive on this run and unusually there were eight of them in total – a family of five, the new doctor and his girlfriend, and the young girl who was studying on the island as part of her geography course. Maria was torn between wanting to see first-hand what they were like and ignoring the fact they were arriving at all.

  Soon her husband’s ferry came into view. Five minutes and the passengers would be disembarking. She could be there in two.

  Taking a deep breath, Maria walked slowly down the stairs. Usually the start of the summer holidays was her favourite time of year. The promise of long, lazy days ahead with the children, eating outdoors when David finished working.

  It had crossed her mind there wouldn’t be many more summers like this, her concerns centred
on the fact that the last of her children were growing up. She could already sense Stella tugging away from her a little more than in previous years. She’d have thought that with two older children she’d be used to it, but it was her youngest she yearned to keep closest.

  In the garden Maria wandered to the trees that lined the boundary between the house and the jetty. As she drew near, Bonnie appeared on one side of them, her head hung low, her shoulders tense. ‘Do you want to come and see the newcomers with me?’ Maria asked. ‘I’d like to have you with me.’

  Bonnie looked up at her, her face blank. ‘Why would I want to do that?’

  ‘There’s a girl coming, only a couple of years older than you,’ Maria said. ‘Iona. She’s nineteen, I think. Anyway, she’d probably be grateful to know someone her own age and—’

  ‘I’m not five,’ Bonnie snorted. ‘I can make my own friends.’

  ‘I know you’re not,’ Maria said patiently as she watched her daughter storm off.

  Bonnie shook her head and carried on walking towards the house. She hated the way her mother did this. Always trying to tell her how to live her life. Both her parents had been doing it as long as she could remember, though her mum was undoubtedly worse. It had started with the Stay and Play sessions they used to drag her to, with the woman who’d watch her play with the stupid toys they laid out while she talked at Bonnie.

  Afterwards Bonnie would have to leave the room and sit with someone else while they discussed her. They always let Danny stay, perched on her mum’s lap, sucking on that dummy that was always in his mouth.

  Bonnie knew they must have been looking for something in her, but she didn’t know what. She only knew that the toys were a distraction to get her to open up.

  One time the woman was particularly interested in the way Bonnie never looked at her when they were talking, so the next time Bonnie stared straight at her. She learnt that if she paid close enough attention to their questions, she could tell them whatever it was they seemed to want to hear. Something must have worked, because one day her mother stormed out, grabbed her hand, and they never went back. Bonnie remembered listening to her parents talking that night when she was supposed to be in bed, and hearing her mum utter the words, ‘Sometimes nothing good comes from being honest.’

  At first it was exciting to hear her mum say something so unexpected, but the moment passed quickly and then it just left her uneasy. God knew she had enough things she was already worrying about.

  Now her mum was back to her old tricks, trying to get her to make friends, and it was for that exact reason she was going to refuse to have absolutely anything to do with this Iona.

  Maria stopped at the thin line of trees and hesitated, hidden from view. Everyone came to the island for something, which was why she was always so wary of newcomers. It would only be a matter of days before she and the islanders started talking about them, drawing conclusions as to what the new people expected from Evergreen, what they might be running from. Everyone had a reason for coming here.

  At the other end of the jetty Stella had her arms around her dad’s stomach. He’d pulled her in tight and was kissing her head. Maria loved watching David’s affection for his children, though she wasn’t entirely sure it was always fairly distributed. Yet another thing she’d glossed over, when maybe she should have paid more attention.

  He looked up over his daughter’s head, glancing around, and Maria knew he was looking for her so she stepped out.

  A woman was climbing down the steps of the boat, looking harried. She had dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail and was calling behind her. ‘Come on, Freddie. Freya, take his hand, get him down the steps.’

  Clearly this was the Little family. Maria smiled at the mother as she hurried up the jetty, suitcases tightly clutched in both hands. ‘I’m Maria, welcome to Evergreen,’ she said as they passed, just as Annie Webb had when they’d stepped off the boat all those years ago.

  The woman paused, looking around. ‘Feels like I’m on some TV show, you know, surviving on a desert island.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll love it,’ Maria replied, though she wasn’t sure in the slightest. Already she had the sense the Littles weren’t cut out for Evergreen. ‘If there’s anything you need, I live in the Quay House,’ Maria went on, indicating behind her.

  When the Littles passed, Maria greeted the new doctor. His girlfriend barely looked up. Her cheeks flushed pink and she looked like a deer trapped in headlights. It made the contrast with Iona, who was stepping off the boat behind her, even starker.

  ‘Mrs Harvey?’ the student asked, holding out her hand. She had long eyelashes and a short shock of brown hair that had been shaped into a pixie cut. It suited her small face perfectly, though the hair looked a shade too dark for her pale skin. She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and Maria was taken aback by the brightness and intensity of the girl’s green eyes. ‘I’m Iona. I’m here for my sandwich year.’

  ‘A sandwich year?’ Maria asked, shaking her hand and smiling at the young girl’s warmth.

  ‘It’s a year out of my degree,’ Iona said. ‘I’m studying geography, hence …’ She waved her arm about her. ‘Your island looks beautiful.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Maria beamed. ‘It is.’

  Maria watched her stride off towards the village, only spotting Annie Webb when the girl was out of sight.

  ‘So that’s the lot then?’ Annie asked.

  Maria nodded and let out a breath. ‘Seems like it.’

  ‘And how are you, Stella?’ Annie said, turning to Stella who was now leaping up into David’s struggling arms. ‘You’re too big for your father to lift any more. You shouldn’t be doing that at eleven. Eleven,’ she repeated, shaking her head. ‘I remember the moment you were born.’

  ‘You were the first person to see my face,’ Stella grinned.

  ‘I was,’ Annie said, ‘and your mother was lucky I was here. There was no chance of you making it to the mainland. Not like your brother, of course, who didn’t want to come out.’

  ‘Danny made something cool for the treehouse,’ Stella said at the mention of her brother. ‘It’s a wooden chest. I can put my notebooks and pens in it so I don’t have to keep taking them up there.’

  ‘Danny made that?’ Maria asked. ‘That’s lovely.’

  ‘That boy’s always been good with his hands,’ Annie murmured as David called out that he’d see them all later.

  Maria turned from Annie to wave. Her husband looked guarded as he pulled in the rope for a quick turn-around, but she knew why. He wouldn’t like the fact she and Annie were watching the newcomers with such interest, but David was wrong to think it was Annie who disliked change. Annie was the one who made her feel better about it.

  Maria had always been surprised that David didn’t understand her closeness to Annie. Surely anyone who knew their whole story would have realised why she’d become so dependent on her. After all, Annie was the only one who knew the truth about why they’d come to Evergreen. Well, not the only one, but Maria tried not to contemplate the others.

  Yet over the years David had become almost irritated by their friendship, as if he were jealous of the way she often turned to the older woman rather than him.

  ‘You know he’s up there, don’t you?’ Annie said and Maria turned back.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Danny.’ Annie gestured to a tree and Maria eventually spotted her son’s sandalled feet dangling between its branches. His feet were bigger than hers now, the size of a man’s, which didn’t seem right. He’d had another growth spurt that spring and was only two inches shorter than David. He looked like a man but he was still a child, and Maria couldn’t think of a time when he’d be ready to leave home.

  She shook her head and sighed. She knew what Annie would be thinking, but what did she expect her to do? She couldn’t ask Danny to stop hanging around in trees when it was the only place he seemed happy.

  Maria hadn’t known then how much that summer would ch
ange them. By the end of it the island that she had once loved, her safe place, would become one that none of her family could ever return to.

  Danny knew they had spotted him, but it wasn’t as if he was hiding. He just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. His parents had been talking about the newcomers for the last few nights and he knew his mum was nervous about their arrival though he really didn’t get it. She was so friendly to everyone, it didn’t make sense that she wasn’t happy to meet new people.

  Contrary to what they suspected, Danny didn’t mind strangers arriving because it gave him others to watch. It got boring when the same old people did the same old things. Hardly any of the islanders did much out of character. He hoped this lot would be interesting and would make the summer pass quicker. He liked it when Stella sat in the treehouse with him, but already he worried that she would be off with Jill all the time.

  Everyone else thought he didn’t like talking to anyone and sometimes it meant mealtimes could pass and they’d completely ignore him. Stella was the only one in the family who didn’t either hate him, like Bonnie, or talk for him as his mum did. Actually his dad was pretty good, but he was always working.

  Danny pulled out his drawing pad and turned to the back page where he started a list. There were three new girls on the island but he didn’t know their names so instead he drew pictures of them. Then he tucked the book under his arm and climbed out of the tree.

  PRESENT

  Chapter Seven

  For a moment I am unable to move as I stand on the end of the jetty. My hands are numb and clenched tightly inside my pockets, my fingers curled too tight. Little things have changed that remind me how many years have passed since I’ve last been home, like the whitewashed planks of wood under my feet and the steel posts lining the jetty with rope knotted around them to act as a railing. It might look attractive, but it’s not the same, and I wish I could rip them away to find what I remember.