‘At least you were able to convince them. I think, deep down, I always knew Mum would never fully accept me, even though I spent most of my childhood trying to get her attention. Now I know not to expect her to ever be able to do that. She can only see her little world, which revolves around how she feels, what she wants. She’ll never change.’
Jonah picked up a smooth, flat stone and skimmed it out across the shore-lapping waves. ‘She could change. People do.’
Anna appreciated his suggestion, even though she didn’t believe it would ever happen. ‘Maybe. The point is, I no longer need her to.’
As they spent the day together, walking and putting the world to rights, it occurred to Anna that Jonah had become more than a casual friend. He had been there when she’d needed support and he seemed closer to her than before. Where she’d once guarded details of her life, she now felt at ease sharing them; it felt good to know she had a friend who cared enough to listen. So when Jonah broached the subject of Ben that evening, as they ate fish and chips overlooking the sea, Anna didn’t hold back.
‘I should have listened to you when you said you didn’t trust him.’
‘You liked the chap. There’s nothing wrong with that.’
‘Except he used me.’
‘Aye, well. I take it he’s still hiding from you?’
Anna remembered her last conversation with Ben and the haunted look she hadn’t quite managed to forget. ‘He tried to apologise.’
Jonah raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh?’
‘I didn’t want to hear it.’ She watched the steam rising from her chips. ‘He looked awful.’
‘I should hope he did. Better off without him, eh?’
Anna nodded, but her heart felt heavier than the boulders at the base of the cliffs far below them. She shouldn’t feel anything for Ben, apart from anger and relief that she’d found out who he really was before she got too involved. But secretly she still wished things had been different.
‘Cool bracelet, by the way. One of your parcel gifts?’
Pleased to move on from the subject of Ben, Anna smiled. ‘It was. Although it threw me for a while, because it didn’t seem to fit the pattern of the others.’
‘It didn’t? How come?’
When she looked up at her friend she noticed he had stopped eating. ‘It wasn’t wrapped in the same way, and the message with the beads and shells didn’t make sense. But then I put the bracelet together and understood.’
The last sliver of evening sun slipped below the water at the horizon and its dying glow illuminated the sky. In the bay below a few hardy adventurers rode the waves, wringing every last drop of time out of the day before nightfall. Anna watched their progress, the shore becoming darker as the light faded.
‘It’s beautiful here. Thanks for bringing me.’
‘I’m sorry it isn’t for longer.’
‘When do we go home?’
Jonah wrapped up the remainder of his meal and stretched out his legs on the blanket. ‘We’ll head off about this time tomorrow, when the light goes. May as well make the most of the day. I have to say, it’s been nice to have your company. Maybe you’d like to escape with me again sometime?’
Surrounded by the beauty of Godrevy, with more peace within than she had felt for months, Anna’s answer was easy. ‘Any time.’
That night, gazing through the camper-van windows at the blanket of stars shimmering over the darkened bay from the warmth of her makeshift bed, Anna thought about her parcels. If Ben had sent them, the adventure was surely over now. After what she’d said to him in the lift, he knew exactly what she felt about him. It saddened her to think that what had begun as a thing of wonder and joy had ended as little more than a plot to further his career. His friendship and the mystery gifts had been unexpected and beautiful; now, what were they?
One thing confused her: a throwaway comment Jonah had made that evening that stuck in her mind.
‘Don’t discount everything, just because McAra was an idiot.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Those gifts – they were well meant. And they made you happy. I reckon that’s all you need to know about them. Trying to analyse why they were sent, and who sent them, will drive you mad and take a bit away from the experience. Best to have some things in life we don’t question, don’t you think?’
The comment had come from nowhere, yet it echoed Juliet Evans’ words. It was strange that two such unconnected people in her life had offered the same thought. Were they right? Was Anna missing out by wanting answers?
With the sound of Jonah’s slumbering breath drifting over from the front seat, Anna’s eyes grew heavy. They might be right, her thoughts concluded, as sleep began to pull her away from them. But I still want to know who sent the parcels. And why . . .
Forty-Five
Snuggled up in Jonah’s hoodie again on the beach next morning, watching him and his fellow surfers chasing waves, Anna dared to switch on her phone. She was surprised when it found a signal: the last time she came back to Cornwall the only place anyone found reception was on the heights of Bodmin Moor. But much had changed since that ill-fated Christmas visit to her childhood home, six years ago. The row she’d witnessed between Senara and half the village in the pub had sounded the death-knell for her travels back to Cornwall, Anna vowing never to attempt a Browne family reunion again. Today, having spent twenty-four hours back in her home county, she could see return visits in her future.
Tish had sent three messages, each one progressively more concerned for her well-being. Anna replied, simply stating she had gone away for a few days and would be in touch soon. Sheniece’s single voicemail message instructed Anna to ‘Call me when you can, yeah?’ Anna wondered what new gossip her younger colleague had to share, but was in no hurry to think about it here. She was determined to enjoy her last day at Godrevy; there would be plenty of time later to face whatever awaited her.
‘A day away from civilisation and you’re having to check that thing?’ Jonah chided, pushing his surfboard into the sand beside her. ‘You’re more of a townie than I thought.’
‘It’s good that I did. Tish was at the point of sending Scotland Yard out on a manhunt. You could have been hauled in by MI5 for questioning.’
‘Tish Gornick is the biggest drama-queen this side of the Atlantic.’ He flopped down on the sand. ‘No wonder America was happy to let her go.’
‘She loves you, too.’
‘There’s a scary thought. You hungry?’
Anna was: the sea air and sanctuary of this break from her regular life had reignited her appetite. They headed across to the small café nestled between the dunes and ordered full English breakfasts and huge mugs of coffee. It was still early and Gordon, the café owner, joked that any earlier and they would have had to cook their own fry-ups. Anna watched as Jonah and Gordon ribbed each other, enjoying being in the middle of their easy banter. Jonah possessed an uncanny knack of knowing people in the most unlikely places. Gordon, it transpired, was a retired assistant director who had worked with Jonah on many of his early filming jobs for the BBC. At the age of forty-four he’d suffered a minor heart attack, an experience that brought about a decision to completely change his life. He’d sold his London home for a typically ridiculous sum, bought what was then a rundown beach bar and turned it into the chic café it was today.
‘This place changes you for the better,’ he explained. ‘My partner brought me to Godrevy to recuperate and I just knew this was where we belonged. Four months later we’d sold up and were camping out on the floor of this place while we renovated it. I was supposed to be taking it easy, of course, but running this business has been the making of me.’
Anna could appreciate the lure of Godrevy, but she thought it was funny that people from her adopted city saw Cornwall as a dream location, when she had spent most of her life trying to leave. Would she find somewhere other than London to escape to, she wondered? Would there come a time when roots and quality of life supe
rseded the city’s pull?
Jonah was unusually quiet as they walked onto the cliff path after breakfast. Anna put it down to tiredness caused by early hours spent battling the Godrevy surf. They followed the track past the National Trust car park, which was filling up already despite the still-early hour, and on through the shivering grass that cloaked the cliff edge. The bright white beacon of the lighthouse stood out against the greying sky as foaming white breakers crashed on the rocks around the little island where it stood. Gulls chattered noisily overhead, their calls rising over the roar of the waves pummelling the shore far below. Through Jonah’s binoculars, Anna saw jet-black shadows of cormorants diving into the deep blue-green sea and the occasional bob of a seal’s head in the calmer waters offered by tiny bays beneath the cliff edges. Godrevy seemed a place of gathering for all kinds of creatures – from the gaggles of tourists dotted across the rising cliffs to the swallows, swifts and sand martins swooping from cliff to sky and the wheeling, yapping selection of dogs dashing across the green expanse.
‘What are you thinking?’ Jonah asked, suddenly.
‘What a beautiful place this is,’ Anna replied. ‘I can tell why you love it so much.’
‘Know what I like best?’
‘The surf?’
‘Oh, that’s grand, of course. But the best thing for me is the freedom. I might only have a number of hours here, but the time I have feels like an eternity. I don’t have to think about anything, or I can consider the world in minute detail. I have no responsibilities, no pressing engagements or crazy schedule, but I can be as busy as I want to be. Sometimes I surf from sun up to sun down. Other times, I just sit and take it all in. There’s no expectation of me here, no one telling me where I should be or what I should be doing. It’s just me, the ocean and this beauty.’ He chuckled. ‘And if you didn’t already know I was daft, you do now.’
Anna smiled back. ‘I don’t think you’re daft at all. Well, not apart from spending hours in the freezing cold sea for fun.’
‘Aye, there is that.’
‘I think it’s a good thing. I’ve never had anywhere I could go to feel like that. Maybe I should find a place.’
Jonah nudged her. ‘I’ll let you share this one with me, if you like.’
‘Deal.’ Anna offered her hand and he shook it.
As they walked on, Anna could feel her spirits brightening as if the sun had broken free from the clouds and was shining directly on her. While stubborn greyness remained in the sky, inside she was glowing.
Later that afternoon, sheltering from the strengthening wind in the camper-van’s cosy interior, Anna considered her future. It lay wide open like the green fields rolling across the clifftops of Godrevy. Part of her wanted to stay here, where nobody knew her, but that wasn’t the answer. Nothing could hold her back now: what she did with what she had discovered about herself would define what happened next.
She wondered if Ben was happy with himself. Had he just been pretending to regret the story, to smooth things over with her? Was he now back to boasting about writing a story that had attracted such attention? Had he even stopped for a moment to wonder how Anna was? Strangely, a part of her still couldn’t quite believe that Ben had used her just to save his own skin. Everything he had said and done before the story broke had seemed real. His kisses definitely had. She was annoyed that she still felt anything for him, but the feeling wouldn’t go away.
She gazed out through misting camper-van windows at the windswept cliffs and beach. This much beauty would be wasted on Ben McAra. If he couldn’t profit from it, he wouldn’t be interested. It felt good to be here with Jonah, who understood her perfectly. The time she had spent with him confirmed that he was a much closer friend than she’d realised before.
I’m lucky to have such a good friend, she thought, sipping her second mug of tea and snuggling further beneath the warm woollen blanket as the wind buffeted the body of the camper-van. The vehicle rocked gently in the breeze, a satisfying creak from its springs sounding like the groaning of an old ship’s timbers. Inside, Anna felt completely at peace – moved by the force of the gusts, but not troubled by them. She took a mental snapshot of this moment and promised herself she would return to it back at home, whenever she needed a picture of serenity under pressure.
She must have fallen asleep because when Jonah returned it was a little before five o’clock.
‘Nice day?’
Anna smiled happily. ‘The best.’
He handed her a bag of still-warm, golden-brown Cornish pasties he’d bought from Gordon’s café. ‘I thought these would sustain us on the long journey home. Fancy saying goodbye to the beach with me?’
They walked back along the path that skirted the sand dunes and led down to the wide, fudge-coloured sand. Surfers still revelled in the ocean swell, the thunder of breaking waves causing Anna and Jonah to shout in order to be heard. The wind whipped at Anna’s hair and salt spray stung her cheeks. In the distance the lighthouse stood, alabastrine and proud, keeping watch over them.
‘You look at home here,’ Jonah said. ‘I’m glad you came.’
‘Me too. I think you may have restored my faith in Cornwall.’
‘That so?’ He laughed and slung his arm around her shoulders. ‘I reckon we make a good team.’
‘How, exactly?’
‘I surf and you watch. Perfect!’
Anna jabbed him in the ribs and when he yelped she sprinted from him, giggling at the sheer freedom she felt, her feet kicking up showers of sand behind her as she ran. Jonah gave chase, his laughter rising above the crash of the surf, until he cornered her and, wrapping his arms around her waist, yanked her with him to the sand.
Before she knew it, Jonah’s lips were on hers, his hands pulling her closer to him. The suddenness of it rendered her immobile for a moment, but then she was pushing and kicking him away, scrambling to her feet and gawping down at him in sheer horror.
‘What – was that?’ she demanded, the intrusion still smarting.
Aghast, he stared up at her. ‘I thought you wanted—’
‘I didn’t!’
‘But . . .’
Anger was surging up within her. ‘I never asked you to do that! What were you thinking?’ She stumbled back and began to walk quickly away from him. She had nowhere to go, but was compelled by a need to be as far as possible from the man she’d wrongly thought was just her friend.
‘Anna, stop!’
‘No!’ Her feet stamped angry holes in the beach as she pressed on.
Jonah’s voice grew nearer as he followed her tracks. ‘What was I supposed to think? You changed your mind and came with me at the last minute. We’ve done nothing but flirt with each other since we got here. And you were wearing the bracelet . . .’
She skidded to a halt on the sand and turned back. ‘What about the bracelet?’
He stopped too, a little way from her. She could see his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. ‘I thought you’d guessed. When you talked about the parcels yesterday . . .’
Was this a confession?
‘It was you?’
Jonah hung his head. ‘I thought you knew.’
‘Knew what? That you were the one sending me gifts I didn’t understand, and setting me up to be disappointed when I tried to find the sender? How cruel was that, Jonah?’
‘I didn’t mean . . .’
‘You set the whole thing up, with the old record and the fake email address – why? Did you think it would make me fall for you?’
His grey eyes flicked up. ‘Eh? Now hang on . . .’
‘What else am I supposed to think, Jonah? When you knew how much I wanted to find the sender, how could you not tell me you’d sent the parcels?’
He was shaking his head now, his hands held up to halt Anna’s accusations. ‘One parcel, lass. That’s all I sent you.’
Bewildered, Anna didn’t reply.
Jonah flushed red. ‘You were so upset after that record jaunt, and
I didn’t know if your mystery chap would send you any more packages. I hoped you’d remember me saying another parcel would come soon and work out I’d sent it. I just wanted to make you smile.’
Anna held up the sea-glass and shell bracelet on her wrist. ‘You sent this?’
‘Aye.’
And then it made sense. The gift that didn’t seem to fit the pattern of the others was never meant to, because it didn’t come from the same person. Thinking of the words on the card that had accompanied the beads and shells, she could hear Jonah’s Yorkshire dialect: Make of this what you will . . .
‘And what about the other parcels?’
‘I don’t know who sent them.’
‘But you were happy to let me think you had?’
‘If it meant you wanted to be with me, yes. I’m sorry, lass. But the fact is, I like you. I’ve liked you for a very long time, only I was too dumb to say owt. I wish I had now. I . . . I didn’t mean to scare you.’
It was all wrong. Jonah was a friend – and Anna counted on him to stay a friend. It was what she needed and she couldn’t consider him as anything else. What she’d thought was an invitation for her benefit was actually for his: to get her alone, in order to move their friendship in a direction Anna wasn’t prepared to go. Suddenly the beauty around her meant nothing; she wanted to leave.
‘Can we just go, please? I want to go home.’
He said nothing, his resigned expression the only assent he could convey. In silence they retraced their steps away from the churning, angry ocean, the purposeful distance they kept from each other a cold, unyielding reminder of the divide that now existed between them.
The journey home was the longest – and most awkward – Anna had ever experienced. They hardly spoke for the entire five hours, her gaze fixed determinedly on the road ahead as Jonah stole glances at her. Roadworks and tailbacks dragged the motorway traffic to a near-halt for almost twenty miles, the camper-van’s speedometer barely registering above five miles an hour for what felt like forever. The sight of city lights had never been so welcome for Anna – and she suspected for Jonah, too, who gave an audible sigh of relief as he parked in Walton Tower’s underground car park. With the rasp of the VW engine gone, he turned to her.
A Parcel for Anna Browne Page 31
