She hurried ahead of him, skipping up the staircase towards the front door.
Finn caught up with her and put a hand on her waist, opening the front door with his keys. He stood back so that she could go past him inside, and flicked on the low lights. Imogen took in the room in front of her. A spacious open-plan living and dining space with floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a spectacular view out over the sea.
‘Nice pad,’ Imogen whistled. ‘Better than the wigwam, even.’
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘I’m good,’ Imogen said, kissing him, then leading him towards one of the sofas. ‘I get the feeling there are more interesting things we could be doing.’
The next morning, Imogen got to her feet and took down the dressing gown that was hanging on Finn’s bedroom door, slipping it on. She looked back at him, fast asleep, his head making a slight indent on the pillow.
She stepped into the open-plan living room and looked around the flat. It had just the right balance of classy minimalism and cosy touches. Tasteful art prints hanging on the bright white walls, black-and-white prints of friends and family in frames. One of Finn’s nephew’s finger paintings pinned to the fridge – bright and colourful, there was a forest with a flock of red birds flying high above it. In the distance was a bright blue sea.
Everything about Finn was right. So why, in the light of day, did she want to leave?
‘I don’t get it,’ Anna said, sitting opposite her sister at the shop. ‘I honestly don’t. He’s really nice, Imogen.’
‘I know that. He’s great. That’s not the problem.’
After leaving Finn’s flat that morning, she’d got the bus back into town, and walked along the seafront with only the gulls and a few dazed clubbers for company. It had slowly started to dawn on her – she wasn’t ready to settle. She wasn’t ready to find someone like Finn.
‘I love being with him, but if we are together, I’ll end up staying here,’ Imogen said.
‘And would that be so bad?’ Anna said.
‘Anna, you know I never planned to stay in Brighton for good. It’s different for you. You’re older – don’t make that face, you are – plus you’re the one with the talent,’ she said. ‘You’re amazing at making ice cream and you’ve got what it takes to make this place really special.’
‘Not without you,’ Anna said, closing the books of accounts she’d been working on. ‘You’ve done so much for this place. I don’t understand it. You seemed really happy the other day.’
‘I was. I still am,’ Imogen said, struggling to find a way to express how she felt. ‘Finn’s a really lovely guy. But I can’t see myself working here at the shop without ever having given what I really love a shot. What makes me feel alive – the way that you feel when you’re cooking – is taking photos. And the animals, the things I want to photograph, aren’t here. They’re—’
Anna bit her lip. ‘In Thailand,’ she said, looking defeated.
‘Yes,’ Imogen said. ‘I’m sorry. I thought I could talk myself out of it. Or that liking Finn would be enough to change my mind. But it’s not. If I stay here, I’d feel like I was giving up on something I desperately want to do.’
Back at Vivien’s house, Imogen looked over at her mobile as it buzzed from the side table. She knew that it would be another message from Finn.
She should read it. Not just that – she should be jumping up to read it and reply. This was the man she’d had an amazing time with just last night, yet he was the one person who could hold her back from achieving what she wanted.
The day she’d got her acceptance to Bournemouth to study photography had been one of the best days of her life – for three years, she’d trained with experienced photographers and honed her technique. Then travelling had brought her skills to life. The moment she’d stepped off the plane into Bangkok’s humid air, she’d hardly been able to stop – orangeclad Buddhist monks, floating markets, the tiny wooden spirit houses Thais placed outside buildings. She’d filled memory card after memory card, updating her blog constantly and building a following. And then, on the island, she’d discovered that beyond what there was on the surface of the planet, there was even more to see below. Her underwater project, what there was of it, was good. But it wasn’t even half-finished, and there was nothing there that was ready to exhibit. If she was serious about becoming a photographer, she had to keep on going.
As much as she enjoyed being with Finn, it couldn’t last. After a few months, she knew she’d grow restless. And he’d made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere, that he was settled in Brighton. Staying with him, knowing that one day she’d want to leave – it wasn’t fair on either of them.
Imogen’s mind was made up. She wouldn’t talk to him again until she’d rebooked her flight back to Thailand.
‘Hello!’ Tom said. ‘Nice to hear from you, Imo. I was beginning to think something had happened to you and your sister. Are you becoming workaholics over there? I’ve heard about those people … ’
‘Anna and me are fine,’ Imogen reassured him. ‘What about you?’
‘Getting better,’ he said. ‘Slowly. For now your mother’s got me taking these awful pills, which make me drowsy. I can’t stand them. But I’ve started to see someone, once a week. And it’s helping, you know, to talk everything over. I thought I was old enough and ugly enough to deal with losing Mum on my own, but it looks like I’m not.’
‘I’m glad you’re feeling stronger,’ Imogen said. A wave of relief came over her – her dad was getting better, and he was in safe hands. ‘I love you, you know.’
‘I do, sweetheart. I love you too. Now, why do you sound sad? I thought things were getting better with the shop?’ He must have heard something in the tone of her voice. He’d always been able to see right through her.
‘They are. It’s doing really well, actually.’
‘Wonderful,’ he said, his voice lifting.
‘The reason I’m calling is to let you know that things are changing a bit. Anna’s going to be running the shop on her own from now on, and I’m going back to Thailand.’
‘It’s bitten you again,’ her dad said.
‘Yes. Yes, it has.’
‘That darned travel bug.’
‘I’ve tried to ignore it. But I can’t.’
‘Well, good for you,’ he said. ‘You’re only young once, and it’s over in a flash. We’re all going to miss you. But I understand.’
‘Thanks, Dad.’
‘But I hope you’ll let an old traveller give you one piece of advice,’ he said. ‘Something I had to think about myself once. Whatever you’re going out there for, just make sure you’re not leaving something more important behind.’
Imogen thought of Finn. The way they clicked, made each other laugh.
‘Thanks, Dad. I’ll keep that in mind. Can you put Mum on? It’s probably better that I tell her myself.’
‘Of course. Jan!’ he called. ‘It’s Imogen on the phone.’
‘Hello, dear,’ her mum said a moment later.
‘Hi, Mum. I’ll get to the point. I’m going back to Thailand.’
‘But you’ve only just got back here.’
‘I know,’ Imogen said, momentarily wishing she’d gone for the easier option and let her dad pass on the news. ‘But I always said I’d go back at some point, Mum.’
‘Oh, I know what you said, darling. But you say a lot of things. I didn’t think you really meant it.’
‘Dad understands.’
‘Has he been encouraging you again, to go off to places where you’ll be putting your life at risk … ?’
‘Of course not,’ Imogen said. ‘It’s my decision.’
‘It’s just … you’re my daughter too, and I really don’t think … ’
Imogen heard the catch in her mother’s voice.
‘Mum,’ Imogen said. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes, dear. Of course I am.’ Imogen heard muffled sobs at the end of the line. Oh
God, she thought, this is actually worse than the yelling. No tears for thirty years and now there was no stopping her.
‘Are you sure?’ Imogen asked.
‘No,’ Jan said, her voice faint where it had been bold only a moment before. ‘I worry about you, sweetheart. I’ll never understand why you have to put yourself in danger like you do. Diving and risking getting nitrogen whatsit. It’s my job as a mum to look after you, and I want to do that right. But you make it so hard sometimes.’
‘Mum, I’m twenty-three,’ Imogen said, sitting down in an armchair. ‘You and Dad, both of you are wonderful parents, in your own ways. But I’m not like you, Mum. Maybe I will be, one day, but I’m not yet. I don’t want to settle down – there are things I want to do first. I want to make something of myself, become a photographer.’
‘I don’t want to stop you. Not really. ‘It’s only because I love you, you know,’ Jan said.
‘I know that, Mum. And thank you for that.’
Chapter Thirty-Two
On the specials board – Praline Indulgence
Anna was sitting on the same stool she had once sat on next to her sister, when they were little girls. She had a bowl of praline ice cream in front of her, the shop shutters halfway down and a subdued Hepburn for company. Even he seemed to realise that something had gone wrong.
She looked around the shop and thought of all the hurdles she and Imogen had faced so far – knew that there would be plenty more to come. Facing them together had made it all so much easier. Could she do it alone?
She heard a rap at the shutters and glanced up to see the bottom half of Evie, visible beneath the metal door, unmistakable in overalls and pink DM boots.
‘Evie,’ Anna said, her mood lifting a fraction.
‘Yes, of course it’s me, dear,’ she said. ‘Now, are you going to let me in?’
Anna raised the shutter to see Evie’s smiling face. For a moment it felt as if part of her Grandma Vivien was standing there too.
‘Are you OK, dear? You’re very pale.’
‘I’ve been better, if I’m honest,’ Anna admitted. She and Evie sat down together in one of the booths.
‘Man trouble?’ Evie ventured. She covered Anna’s hands with her own silver-ring-covered fingers.
‘Yes,’ Anna said. ‘Plenty. But no. I’ve had my fair share of it lately, but it’s not that today. It’s the shop. Or rather, it’s Imogen.’
‘She’s got itchy feet?’
‘How did you guess?’
‘Perhaps it takes one to know one,’ Evie laughed gently. ‘I travelled a fair bit in my time. I saw that same lust for adventure in your sister the very first time I met her.
‘So let me guess, you’re worried about all this,’ she continued, nodding over at the counter, where during opening hours colourful ice creams filled the glass cabinets and waffle cones of all sizes were piled high. ‘Running this place on your own?’
‘Yes,’ Anna said. ‘That’s about it.’ She started to cry, quietly.
‘Well, it’s a lot of work, isn’t it, going it alone. But you’re a strong woman, Anna. There’s so much of your grandmother in you.’
‘Do you really think so?’ Anna said, snuffling and wiping away the tears with the sleeve of her cardigan, glad that no one but Evie was there to see her.
‘Oh yes, you’re the spirit of Vivien. And a fighting spirit it is.’
‘Do you miss her, Evie?’ Anna asked.
‘Do I miss her?’ she said, eyebrows raised. ‘There’s not a day goes by that I don’t miss your grandmother. Feels like a hole in my heart.’
And it was then that Anna saw it. Just a flash of pain in Evie’s eyes, a sense that it wasn’t just a friend, but a soulmate who had left her.
‘There’s no one like Vivien,’ Evie said.
‘I miss her so badly right now,’ Anna said. ‘She always knew the right thing to do.’
‘Oh yes,’ Evie said, smiling. ‘But you know too. You just have to silence all the other voices and let yourself hear your own.’
An hour later, Evie and Anna were still sitting in the booth, with mugs of tea and Vivien’s photo album between them on the table.
‘Now, that one –’ Evie said, pointing to a black-and-white photo held in place with photo corners – ‘was from that summer in the sixties, you know, with the mods and rockers. Came down here, fighting about nothing and making a God-awful mess.’
Anna looked at the photo more closely. The window of the Sunset 99s was smashed in, with a pile of glass in front of Evie’s shop next door was even more badly damaged, with the door hanging off its hinges.
‘Petrified, we were that day. We hid out in the kitchen at the back of my shop and waited for the police to come and break things up. But they took forever to get here. And we could hear the youngsters doing God only knows what to each other out there. I mean, you know me and Vivien, we were never ones to shy away from danger. But this was something else – something we hadn’t seen before. No one down here had.’
‘Sounds awful,’ Anna said. ‘All that damage, for nothing. But I’m glad you weren’t hurt.’
‘Yes, we were lucky really. Although it didn’t feel like that at the time – it cost us both a fortune to get the shops back to how they were’
‘I can imagine. What about this one?’ Anna asked, pointing to a photo on the opposite page. The shops’ signs, which looked like they should be neon and bright, were dull and tatty. Vivien and her husband Joseph were standing in front of the shop with smiles on their faces, but something in their expressions seemed to suggest a different story.
‘The eighties – business wasn’t great back then. But we all stuck together, helped each other out. And of course having gone through it once you know, don’t you, that it’ll pass. That things’ll get better again soon. They always do.’
‘You just kept going, didn’t you? Both of you,’ Anna said. She looked at more photos: celebrations, street parties, shop revamps, fifties furniture, then psychedelic seventies prints, her grandmother’s outfits reflecting the changes in fashion.
‘We did,’ Evie said. ‘And so will you, sweetheart. You’re a survivor.’
‘I am?’ Anna asked, unsure. The past weeks had taken their toll on her.
‘Of course you are. Your grandmother was so very proud of you.’
The next morning, Anna started work with more vigour and enthusiasm than she’d had in days.
The night before, after talking to Evie, she’d decided she was ready to run the shop on her own. Emboldened by her new plan, she’d also deleted Jon’s number from her phone, and finally got around to unfriending him on Facebook. She felt liberated.
She still missed Alfie desperately. Missed Jon too. But when she’d gone back to the flat the previous night, she’d realised it wasn’t empty without the two of them. It was just getting ready to be filled with something new. Something Anna now had space for.
On her break Anna opened her laptop, and logged into her email. She found a new message.
To: Anna
From: Matteo
Dear Anna,
A hello from across the ocean.
Forgive me for writing. I know that you have your own life over in England, and really I should just leave you in peace.
But the truth is, I can’t stop thinking about you.
I know you didn’t want me to tell you how I felt when you were here. But now you can’t stop me (ha!). When you walk into a room, it lights up. I want that in my life. I want you in my life.
Anna took Matteo’s words in slowly. Hearing how he felt, directly from him, sent a rush of warmth through her.
You’re thinking you should tell me you have a boyfriend. Don’t worry, I already know. You never pretended anything different. Sian told me, but I had already guessed.
All the same I’m taking a chance. Because if I don’t then … well. I figure I’ll be a sad old man, wondering what could have been.
I hope you are happy. But if you’re no
t … Or if one day in the future, you’re not … I’m here. At the very least, I could make you a good ice cream to cheer you up.
I’m going to press Send. (I will not chicken out.)
Anna. I can’t forget you.
Matteo x
Anna took a few minutes to digest what he’d said. Then she opened a new window and typed a message back.
To: Matteo
From: Anna
Hi, Matteo,
Thank you for your message.
Anna hesitated. That didn’t sound right. She held down the Delete key until she had a blank screen again.
It was good to hear
Delete.
She began typing again:
Try this
Then restarted her message:
Mango and Raspberry Granita:
Ingredients …
When she’d finished typing, she took a deep breath and pressed Send.
Chapter Thirty-Three
On the specials board Hepburn’s Glorious Ice Cream for Hounds
On Thursday morning, Imogen walked across the pebbles on the beach in Kemp Town, where the shore was less busy and she could throw Hepburn’s ball without it getting pounced on by a hundred other, bigger dogs. Dressed in jeans and a faded grey T-shirt, her hair uncombed and without a scrap of make-up on, she’d left the house to clear her head, after rebooking her flights for 17th August, in a week and a half’s time. She hadn’t expected to see anyone she knew.
Down by the water’s edge, with a group of students, was Finn. He was showing them how to pop up to standing on their surfboards, just as he’d shown her the other day. He demonstrated the move ably, and then the rest of the class floundered around trying to replicate it. He caught sight of her before she could turn away.
‘Imogen,’ he shouted out, turning his back on the class. She smiled back and gave a wave, but instinctively picked up her pace. They hadn’t spoken since their date at the weekend, and she didn’t know what to say to him.
Before she had taken more than a few steps, though, Finn was by her side on the pebbly beach, his hand gently touching her arm.
‘Hey,’ he said.
‘Hi,’ Imogen replied, trying to sound relaxed and cool. Hepburn was looking at her with his huge, round brown eyes, questioning. I like this man, he seemed to be thinking. Why are you trying to get away from him?
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