by Laura Kemp
A peace had settled – just as it had in Annie’s life. Nanna Perl had given her childhood some security, but unrest had never been far away. There’d been her mother’s neglect, Ryan’s death and Dean’s cruelty, which had conspired to make her believe that that was what she deserved. Then the rock bottom of January, of being homeless, of fearing for Teg’s life, sleeping rough and being penniless. But seven months later, she had a future as a free woman, a homeowner and a teacher.
‘I never thought I’d see this day,’ Annie said, ‘I owe it all to coming home to Gobaith. If you’d told me years ago that I’d be saying that then I’d have thought you were mad. I finally feel like I belong here.’
‘Me too,’ Spike said. ‘Arthur’s settled, ’e’s made friends. Look at ’im!’ He gestured to his son, who was building a den in the distance with the Grow Up gang while Teg lay closely keeping guard. ‘He used to be a right townie! This place has been part of ’is healing. And mine.’
‘He’s blossomed, Spike. You’ve done a great job.’
‘Only thanks to you.’
‘I think the dog did more than me! They give you a reason to get up, animals. Oh, nothing will beat this feeling, Spike. I feel complete.’ She turned to him and smiled.
‘Do you?’ His eyes searched hers meaningfully, then he went back to taking in the lake, which was still and calm. ‘Nothing else missing?’
Annie sensed a change in the air between them: perhaps he wanted to acknowledge their almost getting together. That was fair enough, it had been part of their short history.
‘It’s okay, Spike. You don’t have to go through it again.’ Annie had come to the conclusion they would be friends and nothing more. She had licked her wounds and reached acceptance. ‘I’ve got so much going for me. Honestly, you don’t need to feel bad about things.’
Spike dropped his head and then looked up at her beneath his fair eyelashes.
‘The thing is … I’ve been thinking …’
Her heart stood up to attention with hope. But she pushed it back down with a deep breath. Spike had made it clear how he felt about her.
‘I love Lucy, I always will.’
She didn’t want him to feel his agony anew. And really, she didn’t want to hear again the reasons why they couldn’t be together. But he was twisting his body towards her to open up to her. She did the same, mirroring him, to show she was on his wavelength.
‘I know, Spike, it’s okay.’ She put her hand on his knee to reassure him.
‘I don’t fink you do … I’ve wanted to say it for a while, ever since I backed off. I ’ad to, to make sure, I couldn’t risk messing you about.’
It sounded as if there was a ‘but’ coming. Well, this wasn’t what she’d expected to be in the script.
‘Right.’ His hand had gone to hers – not on top of it in a commanding way, but underneath it, to cushion hers.
‘But I didn’t want to say anything while you’ve been going through all this stuff with your mum and Dean. I don’t want to ’ijack the moment or take advantage or—’
‘No, of course not.’ Spike was a measured man, not prone to ups and downs, he was a constant of kindness. She could hardly dare to breathe with where this was going.
‘And I don’t want you finking that what I want to say is because of ’ow you’ve been there for Arthur. I mean, you’re brilliant with him, but that’s not why …’
His fingers curled round hers and Annie knew then and there what he meant and her heart began to flutter.
‘I just wasn’t ready. But I am now. If you’ll ’ave me.’
‘Oh!’ she whispered.
‘I understand completely if you want to stay friends; whatever ’appens, I’ll always be there for you.’ He nodded, emphasising his words.
Annie was unsure this was actually happening to her. He saw it as hesitation.
‘You don’t have to decide now, take all the time you need. But if it’s a no, then that’s okay, we’ve made it work so far and—’
‘Enough,’ she said.
He shut his eyes in disappointment and resignation and she felt a smile on her lips, in her cheeks and all the way to her eyes. When he opened them again, she caught his surprise and his dawning realisation that she might not be about to dash his dreams. He went to open his mouth.
‘Shhh! You’ve done enough talking!’ she said, softly, putting a finger on his cupid’s bow. To think he was waiting for her, this wonderful person who had made her believe men could be good. More than good, a perfect fit. ‘The answer’s yes, Spike.’
Tears glistened in their eyes as they allowed their longing and their love to come to the surface.
‘Being with you, Annie, it’s like I’ve come ’ome.’
She knew exactly what he meant and their gaze was loaded with anticipation, but that’d have to wait.
‘Home, did you say?’ Arthur called, running up with Teg and then stopping dead, catching his dad holding hands with Annie. ‘Are you two …?’
‘If that’s okay?’ Spike said shyly.
‘Sick!’ Arthur cried. ‘Although no snogging, not in front of me.’
Annie laughed at the boy’s grimace. She realised she and Spike hadn’t sealed this with a kiss yet. But it didn’t matter – it would happen, it was a certainty.
‘Let’s go then,’ Spike said, pulling Annie up, their palms entwined. ‘Let’s go home.’
‘I’m starving,’ Arthur said. ‘Shall we do pizzas? Homemade ones?’
‘You and your stomach,’ Spike tutted as they crossed the field and made their way to the lane.
‘But I haven’t eaten for a couple of hours. Three hot dogs wasn’t enough. By the way, Dad, Annie, we could all have a sleepover tonight, couldn’t we? Like, Annie can stay now, can’t she?’
The innocence of him was delightful.
‘Yeah, if she wants to.’ A lesser man might have been tempted to play up the innuendo but Spike matched his son’s straightforwardness.
‘I’d love to.’ Annie’s smile was cheesier than a bag of this little boy’s favourite Wotsits.
‘We can watch a film! Shall we stay up as late as we can? See who’s the last to fall asleep?’ He was chattering with excitement, swinging his arms as the four of them walked side by side. ‘And I’ve had an idea, the house next door, Annie can buy that, then we can have a giant house and we can all live together. Maybe you can have a baby and I’ll have a brother!’
‘Steady on, mate! She’ll run a mile.’ Spike was blushing from the simplicity of his son’s vision.
‘Nah, she won’t,’ Arthur chimed. ‘You won’t, will you, Annie?’
‘Run? You’d have to drag me away!’
‘See? See, Dad!’
Spike raised his eyebrows to give her a way out.
‘I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,’ she said. ‘This is where I’m meant to be. Forever.’
42
We were only here for Friday night but by luck, we’d just arrived when the hill officially became a mountain! There was a right party on! This morning we were among the first up there. In the words of Sir Edmund Hillary, it is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves – particularly when you’ve got a hangover the size of Everest.
Sam and Vic, Bristol
Campsite Visitors’ Book
Only now in the darkness was it safe for Wanda to face it.
Alone at the edge of the lake, away from the campsite, she had reached the point of no return. Telling Lew she loved him and she was prepared to sacrifice her dream for him had been too much, too sudden, not just for him but for her. Because it was crunch time.
Hugging her knees, she accepted what she’d held at bay during the rest of the barbecue. Thinking of the twins had been her salvation – what was there to worry about when they had been born healthy and they had a mam and dad to lo
ve them? Litter picking for the last few hours had helped, too, looking down at the ground so she didn’t have to engage with anyone. And of course, catching Annie leaving hand in hand with Spike had given her so much joy; those two were made for each other. But here, where the lake was as black as her heart, she had to make up her mind.
What was it that she wanted? To travel, to fulfil her lifelong ambition to see the world, just as she’d told her father she’d do? Or to be with Lew? Where she was sat, her eyes stinging, she couldn’t see a compromise.
Soft steps came from behind her. Wanda turned to see Lew’s shape advancing slowly and she quickly wiped her face.
‘Hi,’ she said, controlling the wobble in her voice and trying to smile.
‘I’ve been looking for you,’ he said, sitting beside her, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight. ‘What you said earlier …’
‘I should go. It’s obvious. I was just all over the place earlier.’
‘Wanda, you are doing my head in.’
His exasperation met her own and combusted.
‘I’m doing my head in,’ she cried.
‘You have to go, Wanda. For you, for your dad … for me. You can’t not go because of me.’
‘I know that.’ He was infuriatingly lovely. ‘I’m just so torn.’
‘I told you, I’ll wait for you.’ He grabbed her hand and she turned to see him at her mercy. She took it back and crossed her arms, feeling as if she was in a straitjacket.
‘We’ve been through this. I can’t hold you to it, what if you go off the idea and I come back and you’ve met someone else?’
‘Wanda, I don’t want anyone else!’ He almost laughed and it made her cross. He made it sound so easy. Since when had things between them ever been like that? Inside, she was building up to something – there was frustration and confusion and then the bloody obvious …
‘Things happen when I go away, Lew. You know that.’
He shook his head. ‘So that’s it. You’re still carrying that around with you. After everything we’ve been through. When are you going to stop it? You’re not some kind of jinx on your own happiness. Can’t you see? You make things work whatever’s happening around you. You’re not responsible for everything and everyone! All you have to do is go, keep in touch: there’s this thing called FaceTime, you know, then come back and I’ll be here. And we can work out what happens next then.’
He was knocking down her defences one by one. She flung her hands out into the night. ‘All right, all right. I admit it. I’m scared, Lew.’
‘What of?’
‘Like, I go away thinking it’s going to be the best thing and what if I hate it? It’s the same with you, what if I’ve waited so long to be with you and then it happens and it doesn’t work?’
She dipped her head, not wanting to see him smirking at her. Instead she felt his arm go round her.
‘Well then, why don’t we try before you go?’ he said, gently. ‘Then, if it does crash and burn, which it won’t, you can leave.’
Wanda looked up. His eyes were so warm and true she felt herself coming round.
‘But if it works …’ Then she felt the shudder of fear again. ‘Maybe I won’t want to go.’
‘I’ll make you!’
She laughed at the romance of it: this man she loved telling her he’d pack her off if things worked out between them.
‘I owe it to you – you made me face up to the night of the fire, you did that! It changed my life.’
‘I dunno …’ she said quietly. She needed something more to convince her it was worth a go.
‘I’ll visit you, then. The Bunkhouse will close for a month or so in the winter. I’ll come, just like I was always going to the first time you were supposed to travel.’
‘Really?’ That would be a game-changer if they could commit to meeting up.
‘Yes! Although can I do the beach bit? I don’t fancy the adventurous part. I get my kicks here, in this land. And in you. In all your ridiculous behaviour.’
Her eyes searched his and she began to process what he’d said and offered. She turned her face to the lake and then it came to her, the latest comment in the visitors’ book.
‘It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves,’ she said, softly. ‘That’s what I need to do.’
‘Maybe you’ve almost done it? Look at what you’ve done here, to this place. You’ve given your mam, your sister and those babies a future. You made me deal with the past, you saved me, Wanda. Isn’t it time you thought about yourself? Your dad, he’d want that too.’
She began to nod slowly, looking up for inspiration and then gasping when she realised. ‘This weekend it’s the sixteenth anniversary of the fire, I’d forgotten.’
‘Maybe that means something.’
‘That I’m ready? To move on?’
The heavens answered her questions. High up, there was a flash of light. A shooting star was streaking across the sky. She gasped again and pointed. There was another one. And another!
‘Yes. All of this, Wanda, it’s just the beginning. Of you and me.’
She turned to Lew and where there had always been resistance and barriers there were none. In their place was love – and desire. She caressed his cheek with her fingers and then slid her hand back to his neck. She moved in to his body and placed her lips on his, where they were always meant to be. As they kissed, everything made sense. Fifteen, no, sixteen years in the making, she finally felt complete. She was drunk on him and all of the possibilities which lay ahead of them, convinced now she had conquered herself. Her soul was bursting – and then suddenly she jolted back.
‘What?’ he said, fearful. ‘You haven’t changed your mind, have you?’
‘No!’ she sang. ‘It’s just … I’ve had an idea!’
Lew rolled his eyes and groaned. ‘Oh no, not another one.’
Wanda guffawed.
‘Can you tell me about it tomorrow?’ he said. ‘Can we just enjoy this for a bit? We’ve waited long enough.’
‘All right then,’ she sighed.
And then together they lay back on the earth and snuggled up into one another under a starry sky.
Epilogue
Four Months Later …
Wanda had finally found what she’d been dreaming of.
The sand was whiter than she had ever imagined possible, the sea was a mass of sparkling emeralds and the sky was the truest of blues.
She took a few seconds to breathe it all in, her toes wriggling into the soft powder, before she waded into the bath-warm water and let herself fall back to float face up to the baking sunshine. A blissful piece of paradise was hers here on New Year’s Day on an off-the-beaten-track Indonesian island beach where a gentle breeze caressed the palm trees.
Oh, the irony that she could take as many photos as she liked but there was no wifi to whack them up on @WandaLust. That was part of the experience, though – of hugging this all to herself until she rejoined civilisation. For now, it was pure present-in-the-moment bliss.
Until a goddamn jet ski roared past and she got a mouthful of wave. She spluttered and gagged, her arms flailing around, temporarily disoriented, her vision a blur. Choking, her feet hit the sand and she felt something brush up against her leg – a sea snake?
Argh, she shot off screaming, her legs making kerplunk noises through the water that reminded her of an unfortunate diarrhoea episode in the South Pacific.
Back on land, the salt was making her mosquito bites sting – she’d been eaten alive. And the skin on her shoulders was sore. No matter how much factor 50 she put on, the UV somehow always got through. Insta tits-and-teeth travel influencer, she was definitely not.
This, she’d found out, was the reality of travelling. Yes, there were jaw-dropping sights and life-affirming adventures but more often there were the humdrum, normal life inc
onveniences, irritations and downright disgusting discoveries. Long hot traffic jams in Cartagena; her heel snapping mid-tango-class in Buenos Aires; suffering unbearably earnest paid-for-by-daddy gap-year students on a street-kid project in Chile and a bug-infested hostel in Tahiti. The main problem, wherever she’d been, was avoiding idiots who seemed to latch on to her, always banging on about wanting to find themselves, a quest that usually involved a bar.
She didn’t want to sound ungrateful so she didn’t tell anyone on FaceTime calls how much she missed a homemade cup of tea with proper milk or cwtchy winter nights in front of a fire. She only admitted that to Glanmor in España, when she called him to show off her Spanish. He knew exactly what she meant regarding the milk, but as for the cold, he didn’t miss that at all.
Instead she started to work on her idea, the one she’d had the moment she’d kissed Lew when she’d decided she could leave Gobaith. If she travelled with that in mind, then she began to enjoy herself much more. And it helped distract her from the lamest thing of all – how much she missed Lew. Obviously, he had been completely right: they were sickeningly loved-up, with no hiccups. They hadn’t had a night apart and the village had dined out on their relationship: We knew it! We knew you were in love! But once she’d got past the initial embarrassment of people giving them gooey – and smug – smiles when they held hands in public, she’d moved on to not even remembering what it had felt like to not be with him. Secretly, it had made it harder to leave; she felt there was so much to lose. But that was part of the deal she’d made with herself. And she had no regrets – even if she’d just made the least graceful exit from the sea. Looking around, though, no one appeared to have noticed. She pulled her sunbed into the shade and started the seventh SPF application of the morning, happy she’d got away with making an idiot of herself. But an enormous grin of laughing gear in pale blue shorts and ripped six-pack coming towards her from the bar told her otherwise.
