Somewhere Beyond the Sea

by Miranda Dickinson

  The warmth of Aggie’s chuckle takes me by surprise. ‘Bleddy Nora, boy, only you would apologise for winnin’. Right, hold tight. You and Cerrie get over to the place and I’ll get her there. Somehow.’

  I hand the phone back to Cerrie. ‘Aggie says we should head over to the site.’

  ‘Has she found out where Seren’s gone?’

  ‘Not yet. She thinks Seren’s mum might know.’

  ‘What happens if she can’t find her?’

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t even think straight. Let’s just get over there and wait.’

  Cerrie flaps a hand in front of her face as if trying to shoo impending tears away. ‘Oh my life, Jack, you totally love her, don’t you?’

  Until I said it out loud I didn’t know if I loved her yet, only that I was falling. But I do love her. That’s what’s been gnawing away at the inside of me as I’ve worked on the project. It’s pushed me to use every last minute to get it right and kept me going through torrential rain, high winds and every other hurdle I’ve encountered.

  I can’t escape it. I’m completely out of control and it scares me. But I’ve gone too far down this road to back out. All I can do is wait. And hope I haven’t set myself up for the biggest fall of my life . . .

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Seren

  When I arrive home, there’s a text message on my phone from Aggie:

  Called by your house but nobody home. We’re going to The Maidens anyway, so just know we’ll be raising a beer to your dad and his shop regardless. We love you. Do whatever makes you happy tonight xxx

  I can’t do this now. Losing the shop has become impossibly entangled with everything else – losing Dad, losing the vote, losing the stars, all the ideas I wrongly entertained about Jack. It’s too much to deal with. But I love that my friends are honouring today whether I’m there or not. Aggie won’t be happy that I’m not there, even though she understands. I know she prides herself on us sharing every high and low point of our lives. And we have. This will be the first one she’ll miss.

  Molly is snoozing happily in her basket and appears unconcerned that her water bowl is empty. I take it to the tap and watch the water swirling into its silver base. The stream from the tap catches light from the late afternoon glow, gold dancing through blue. I glance at the kitchen clock. Five twenty-five p.m. If I go now, I can still make Port Isaac before dark. I checked with the B&B there and the owner said they have three rooms free. Should I call and book it now?

  I think of the traffic that ensnared me earlier and decide against it. I’ll chance there being room when I get there. I can always sleep a night in my car if it’s fully booked. I plan to be up with the dawn anyway.

  I put Molly’s water bowl down quietly but her nose appears over the edge of the basket with a whimper.

  ‘Hey girl, it’s only me. Don’t get up,’ I say, stroking her warm snout. She replies with a long lick across my hand and snuggles back down.

  With a final look around the kitchen, I slip quietly out. But as I reach the front door, I have an idea. Racing up to my room, I pull out the box I’d stashed in the back of my wardrobe when we lost the vote. Being given Elinor’s star map this afternoon made me think about my own dream – my jewellery. I’d assumed because of all that had happened with the last bracelet I made that I wouldn’t be able to make anything else. As if the bad experience with Jack and the choices I’d made because of him had cursed my ability to create.

  The distance from St Ives and all it means to me might help me to focus again. Designing jewellery has been part of me for so long, but I let myself lose sight of that. Maybe it’s time to try again while I’m away.

  The thought gives me a shot of excitement. This trip is no longer about escaping: it’s about discovering who I want to be. I’ve heard other people talking about going away to ‘find’ themselves and always assumed it to be a bit of an indulgence. But that’s exactly what I’m doing and it feels like a vital next step. I’d shelved so many of my own ambitions when Dad died that I don’t know what I want to be now the responsibility for his things has been lifted from my shoulders.

  Out in my car, I check my phone. No more calls. Good. Patting the box of my jewellery-making things on the passenger seat, I start the engine. Time to find out what I want the next chapter of my life to look like . . .

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Jack

  I’m here.

  Alone.

  Cerrie has gone to pick up Aggie from St Ives. She said they’d be back by five thirty, but it’s already five forty p.m. and my nerves are kicking in.

  There’s still no word from Seren beyond that conversation she had with Aggie. I don’t know if Aggie has managed to change her mind, or if Seren will be in the car with them all when they return. Maybe that’s the reason for the delay. Perhaps they’re still convincing her to come . . .

  I stand at the door of the new building and look out across the hill to the shimmering sea beyond. I know every stone of this place. I put each one in place with my own hands. After months of doing odd jobs for other people to make ends meet I’d all but forgotten the surge of joy I get from building whole structures from the ground up. Even with Rectory Fields I’ve supervised others putting the build together. With my hand resting against stone that once formed Elinor Carne’s home, I realise that during the three weeks I’ve toiled putting this place together I’ve felt alive again. This is my design, the work of my hands, the building that grew in my mind long before it rose from its new foundations. And the reason for it all was Seren. Without realising it, she made this happen. It’s my response to what she did for Ness and me, not just with the stars on Gwithian Beach, but also the vote she pushed in our favour. She’s given me the gift of a chance to build something entirely on my own terms.

  Watching the early evening sun stretch across the long grass towards me, I face the possibility that she might never know what she’s done for me. Or how I feel about her.

  Fearing she might not be here has made me understand how deep my feelings run. I don’t find it easy to admit how I feel to anyone, least of all myself, but I didn’t think I’d ever fall in love like this. I’d assumed this was the stuff of soppy films and fiction. But it’s as real inside me as the blood racing through my veins or the heavy beat of my heart. I love Seren MacArthur. And I don’t know what I’ll do if she doesn’t feel the same.

  I lean against the open doorway, the reclaimed oak frame warmed by the sun soothing against my back. At the end of the path leading to this place are the three standing stones falsely claimed to be three heartbroken maidens doomed to await forever their lost lovers’ return. Turned to stone by their tears. I have no fear of still being here hundreds of years from now, but maybe this place will prove a more significant location for my building than I thought.

  Have they convinced her to come here? And even if she knew the real reason, would she want to see it? I’ve assumed an awful lot based upon what Cerrie told me, but at the end of the day it’s Seren’s decision. And nobody knows what that is. This entire project might have been built on false pretences or misplaced hope, as shaky a foundation as you can get.

  Not that it will entirely be in vain, of course. Tomorrow it will become everybody’s. I just wanted it to be Seren’s tonight . . .

  I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out the seaglass bracelet I picked up from Nessie’s bedside table this afternoon. Turning it over in my fingers, I let the motion calm me. Nessie was right. Making the seaglass stars on the beach with Seren restored my faith in magic. I have to believe I can find it again . . .

  A car swings into the car park. From where I am, I can’t see who is inside. I quickly pocket the bracelet and walk down the new path. Is Seren there? Have they found her?

  I slow as I get closer, then stop.

  I can only see three people. The moment I see Cerrie’s expression, I know the worst has happened.

  I’ve lost her. Before we even began.

  ‘W
hat happened?’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Jack.’

  Aggie and the tall blond guy who I recognise from when I almost went into Seren’s shop follow Cerrie from the car towards me, their eyes wide as they see what I’ve built.

  ‘You did this for her?’ Aggie shakes her head as if the mirage might disappear. ‘Wow, Jack.’

  ‘Man – respect.’ The guy holds out his hand and I shake it. I know my smile doesn’t sit well. I’m gutted.

  ‘I told you it was special,’ Cerrie says as she passes them, coming straight up to me and giving me a hug. I’m so surprised I can’t even react to it. ‘Jack, I’m so sorry. I think she just needs time. This might have been too much for her.’

  I notice the bloke put his arm around Aggie. Ah, well, that clears that mystery up.

  ‘Have you heard from her again?’

  ‘No. Aggie left a text and Kieran’s left some, too.’

  It’s time to admit defeat. She isn’t coming. But this is still hers, no matter what. I wish it could be different, but if I were in her place, would I have come here? I’ve always worked out problems on my own – the thought of bringing a group of friends into the equation makes me queasy. I have no right to expect Seren to be any different, especially not on my account.

  ‘Can we look inside?’ Aggie asks, her hand touching my arm as she heads up the path.

  ‘Be my guest.’

  I’d wanted Seren to be the first to see it, but it doesn’t matter now. Kieran gives me a sympathetic smile and we stand in awkward silence as Aggie swears loudly from inside the building.

  ‘Aggie’s impressed,’ Cerrie offers with a smile.

  At least that’s something.

  ‘I probably should go,’ I say, suddenly tired and keen to return to Nessie.

  ‘No, mate, stay,’ Kieran says. ‘We have beer.’

  ‘I’m driving.’

  ‘Cerrie has a bottle of water in her car,’ he insists. ‘Come on, we need to give this place a proper welcome. Stay with us for a bit, eh?’

  ‘For Seren,’ Cerrie says. ‘We promised her we’d toast her dad and his shop even if she didn’t want to come. We’re all part of this now.’

  I don’t want to stay. But when she puts it like that, how can I refuse?

  Aggie spreads a blanket across the thick grass and we sit down. Kieran passes out beers; I sit like a child with Cerrie’s bottle of water. A gentle breeze shivers across the grass around us, the metal wind chime Cerrie insisted on hanging above the doorway to the new building ringing out. It’s a cluster of hammered tin stars suspended at intervals from silver wire; her boyfriend Tom made it for us. A craft thing he does, apparently. It’s lovely, if an odd addition, but I appreciate the thought. We sit with our backs to the building but I feel its presence behind me, strong and proud. It will be here long after me, and there’s reassurance in that.

  Seren’s friends are making the best they can of the situation, their soft laughter and good-natured chatter swirling around me. But her absence is like a shadow between us.

  ‘So how’s the parsonage coming on?’ Kieran asks, pulling me back into the conversation.

  ‘Good. We’ll be ready ahead of schedule. And the mural by your kids looks great, Cerrie. You’re all welcome to come and see how we’re getting on.’

  ‘That’d be good,’ Kieran says, looking to his friends for their support. ‘Maybe we should arrange something.’

  We exchange smiles and fall back into silence. I’ll give it another ten minutes, then make my excuses. It’s after six now; there’s no point hanging around. They’re being kind, but I can’t cope with much more of this.

  ‘Lou was saying he has a whole month of venues confirmed for the Elinor Carne exhibition,’ Cerrie says as the others make too-forced murmurs of approval. ‘You know, I think it worked out for the best for everyone. The vote, I mean.’

  ‘I reckon so, too,’ Aggie says. ‘Took me a while to get there, but I think we all won in the end.’

  ‘I hope you like what we’ve done with Rectory Fields,’ I say. ‘We salvaged a lot of the original stone like I’d hoped we could, and I’ve tried to emulate elements of the original building to hint at its history.’

  ‘Is that where you got the stone for this place?’ Kieran asks.

  ‘Most of it, yes. Other bits we found in neighbouring fields, and some from a small artisan quarry that’s opened not far from the place the stone was originally mined.’ Talking about the building warms me a little. This is still my achievement; still my dream in physical form. I’m proud of it no matter what.

  ‘It’s stunnin’, Jack,’ Aggie says, and for the first time I see real regard in her face. ‘You did a beautiful thing. We all think so.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I chance a glance at my watch. ‘I probably should get going.’

  ‘What is this?’

  Confused, I look at Aggie, but she’s no longer looking at me. Like Cerrie and Kieran her face is turned to the left, surprise filling her eyes. I follow the line of their gaze – and see a fifth person by the standing stones, her body thrown into silhouette by the bright sky behind.

  Seren MacArthur is staring past us at the building I made for her. And suddenly all my words disappear like skylarks rising into the blue . . .

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Seren

  I don’t know what made me turn back from the main road and come to The Maidens. I was happy driving away from St Ives, leaving everyone else behind while I chased myself. I thought I knew what I wanted at last. But when I passed the familiar small road leading up to the car park, I somehow couldn’t drive past.

  I knew my friends would be here. But I wasn’t expecting this.

  I’m here in the place I said I wouldn’t be, and Jack Dixon is with them. But what I can’t take my eyes off is the new building next to the standing stones. A perfect replica of the driftwood and moss house Jack made for me – which nestles in my jacket pocket, where it’s been since the morning I found it. I’ve tried to forget what it meant to me, but I haven’t been able to put it away. Even after everything went wrong and my visits to Gwithian ceased, the little house still gave me hope. The new building has old stone where the tiny one has driftwood, and a grass-covered roof where its tiny predecessor has moss and bark. It’s beautiful – but confusing.

  ‘What is this?’ I ask again, seeing Jack scramble to his feet. He looks shocked, but there’s something else; something I can’t quite put my finger on.

  ‘You came! I knew you would!’ Aggie is at my side quickly, pulling me into a hug. ‘Sit down! Grab a beer!’

  ‘Why is he here?’

  Cerrie smiles as she joins us. ‘Jack is – um . . . Jack?’

  Jack Dixon reddens. ‘I’ll give you a moment. I’ll just be in there . . .’ He turns and hurries away from us, into the building.

  ‘Classy move,’ Kieran mutters, shaking his head at Aggie.

  I stare at my friends, hardly believing they’ve all colluded with Jack. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘This was Jack’s idea,’ Cerrie says, her soothing voice warm against the nerves shaking me. ‘You need to talk to him.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me he’d be here?’

  ‘Because—’ Cerrie begins, but Aggie raises her hand.

  ‘Shh, don’t. Seren, you need to talk to him. He made this for you.’ She ushers me to follow Jack, stepping back with Cerrie and Kieran.

  I look towards the building. It’s new but familiar, looking as though it’s risen from the ground and has always been here. I don’t want to see Jack, not when I’d decided to leave him in the past. But I want to know why the building is here and if what Aggie says is true.

  So I walk away from my friends and the standing stones. The breeze makes my hair dance around my face, the dipping sun casting long shadows as I walk. When I reach the new path leading to the building, my breath catches.

  Set into the path are four stars made of row upon row of seaglass. The path is the colour of s
and and the glass sparkles in the early evening light, just as the dawn caught the Gwithian stars every morning I found them. I know my friends are watching, but in this moment I am only aware of my own breath and the steady pulse of my heartbeat. Why would Jack build something like this, here?

  I reach the door, which Jack closed behind him as he disappeared inside. Resting against it is a small wind chime made of a waterfall of tin stars on silver wire. But it is an engraved slate plaque set into the stone of the round building that draws my attention.

  STAR OBSERVATORY

  A GIFT TO ST IVES

  IN LOVING MEMORY OF

  ELINOR CARNE (1801–1857)

  and MARK MACARTHUR (1956–2017)

  ‘The stars are my friends, the heavens my home.’

  It’s too much.

  How did Jack know this place was special to me? Or that Dad’s dearest dream was to establish an observatory in Elinor Carne’s name? How did he know to place the stars from our game to lead people to the observatory – and why do all this now, when I’ve heard nothing from him since the night of the vote? I bite back tears, determined to walk into the building with my head held high.

  When I open the door, Jack Dixon is waiting for me . . .

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Jack

  She’s here.

  Framed in the old oak doorway, Seren MacArthur is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

  She also looks like she wants to attack me.

  Have I offended her? Was it wrong to dedicate the observatory to her father as well as Elinor Carne? My back finds the safety of the rounded stone wall as I try to look calm.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘What is this?’ she asks again, slowly. There’s the faintest quiver in her voice that could be emotion or simmering rage. At this point, I can’t tell which.

  ‘It’s an observatory.’ I point up to the small mezzanine floor above me, where a brand new, state-of-the-art telescope has been installed.