The Long Way Home

by Fanny Blake

  ‘You can’t give her a watch,’ May protested. ‘What about Lorna and Morag?’

  ‘They can’t tell the time.’ A cloud of smoke puffed from his mouth towards the ceiling. ‘When they can…’

  Isla had swelled with pride at her achievement.

  ‘That’s not the point. I’ll keep this until then.’ May put the watch in her apron pocket and, despite her father’s protest, didn’t return it. Isla had run to her bedroom in tears, but not even that had softened her mother’s heart; May remained true to her word.

  All their adventures had taken place in the extensive garden where, in the summer holidays, they would put on plays on top of the mound in the south-west corner. Their long-suffering parents and friends would be attentive and enthusiastic audiences, sitting on old deckchairs or rugs on the lawn. Lorna was always the director and star of their plays. Isla was always cast in the male roles because of her height and ran around being the dogsbody subject to Lorna’s whim. ‘Find me a dog lead.’ ‘Find me a blue pillowcase.’ Once she’d asked Isla to steal a scarf from the neighbours’ washing line. ‘I must have it for Juliet. She’s got hundreds of them. She’ll never notice.’ But of course she did and Isla took the blame. She didn’t mind then. That was how it was. She wanted to be loved by her sisters and if her doing that made Lorna happy, then so be it.

  What had happened to the three of them?

  As they grew up, their father seemed to withdraw even further into himself while their mother responded by being even more short-tempered. If her irritation wasn’t directed at him, it was Isla who bore the brunt of it.

  ‘Don’t think you’re going out looking like that.’ How many times had she said that? ‘Go and change.’

  ‘Is that make-up?’ she’d ask, leaning in close to check. ‘Wash it off immediately. You look too tarty.’

  ‘Doing your hair like that doesn’t suit you.’

  Their father would step in with ‘May, don’t you think you’re being a little harsh,’ then back off as she snapped back at him:

  ‘I think I know what’s best for her.’

  But the damage was done.

  Her protective shell had started to thicken so that her mother could not hurt her. Since then she had been able to withdraw into it when she needed to. When Ian left her. When she and Keith split up. When Helen left home and didn’t always return her calls. But not this time. May had excelled herself.

  She smiled at the image of herself as a tortoise. When things got too much, she withdrew into her carapace where nothing could hurt her. Nothing, it turned out, except her mother.

  15

  Louise and Charlie returned from their morning at the veterinary practice together, with Charlie full of what she had seen.

  ‘There was a dog who’d swallowed so many stones. I saw the X-ray and Lou’s going to have to operate.’

  Louise laughed. ‘Morton brought in one of his sheepdogs,’ she explained to Morag who was ladling out bowls of homemade vegetable soup. ‘He’d no idea what was troubling it, but it was obvious when I palpated her, though I X-rayed her to be sure.’

  ‘And there was a really fat guinea pig who turned out to be pregnant. And a cat with a cut ear from a fight. Then we went to see a cow… Can we go and see Echo?’

  Isla exchanged a smile with her sister over Charlie’s head. Seeing Charlie like this completely vindicated her decision to bring her on the trip. She couldn’t wait to tell Helen.

  ‘Of course. I want to check on them anyway. Let’s have some soup, then we’ll go.’ Louise sat at the kitchen table, where she cut several slices of bread then handed them round.

  ‘I thought we could go to Haddon Hall this afternoon,’ said Isla, setting herself the impossible task of making it sound as exciting as the morning’s adventure.

  Her granddaughter didn’t raise her head from her phone.

  ‘Charlie!’

  She looked up. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Shall we go to Haddon Hall this afternoon? It’s a stately home – a manor house.’

  Charlie’s face conveyed exactly how little she thought of that idea. She looked back at her phone, her hair falling like curtains around her face.

  ‘I thought you might be interested as you’re doing History.’ That was more off-putting still. ‘I’ve wanted to go for ages.’

  ‘Why don’t you try the Monsal Trail? You could take the dogs with you.’ Lou pulled her hair back into a stubby curl of a ponytail.

  Charlie perked up. ‘Can we? I’d rather.’

  ‘Sure.’ Isla was disappointed to have her plan derailed but would prefer they did something they both might enjoy.

  ‘You can take the four-by-four, then you’ll have room for them all.’

  Isla took a deep breath. Calm, she said to herself. Stay calm You can pull this week back into shape. You just need to find the right moment. ‘Then that’s what we’ll do.’

  After lunch she and Charlie set off together with the dogs piled into the back of the car. But by the time she had navigated the unfamiliar vehicle through Bakewell and up to the disused station building, the atmosphere in the car had turned decidedly wintery. Something on Charlie’s phone seemed to have plunged her into a gloom.

  ‘What’s the problem?’ Isla tried to sound as casual and disinterested as possible.

  ‘Nothing. Just a stupid message…’ Her words trailed off into an indistinguishable mumble.

  ‘Saying?’ Isla knew enough about online bullying to be concerned. If that was what this was, she would have to involve Helen.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘I bet they didn’t spend the day with a vet.’

  The eye-roll she caught told her exactly what they might think of that.

  ‘Of course they didn’t.’ How could one fourteen-year-old load so much disdain into a sentence? ‘They’re in London hanging out together. No one cares what I’m doing.’

  ‘Have they said that?’ Isla glanced at Charlie, whose chin was wobbling. ‘Oh, Charlie.’ She quickly put her hand on her leg. ‘Don’t take any notice of them.’ So easy to say. ‘This is much better.’ Isla pulled the car into a space, aware that it wasn’t better at all. ‘Come on.’

  She remembered Helen, home from school in floods of tears after two girls she considered friends had thrown stones at her. The detail was hazy now but she had fought tooth and nail for her daughter (despite being begged not to), visiting the parents and the school until she was finally believed, the ringleader was expelled and the bullying ended. She would do the same for Charlie if need be.

  When released, the dogs leaped out of the back, excited by the prospect of a walk. Charlie remained in her seat, hunched over her phone, messaging someone somewhere. Isla wanted to help but didn’t want to interfere and drive her further away.

  When Charlie eventually clambered out, looking glum, Isla longed to give her a hug. She took a step towards her, almost getting bowled over by Jock and Red in the process. Seeing the excitement of the dogs switched something in Charlie and she chased after them.

  Titch, Shep and Red knew exactly where they were going and darted down the side of the pretty Victorian station building.

  ‘Are you sure this is right?’ Charlie shouted over her shoulder as she followed them to the back of the building where a wide path replaced the old railway line.

  Isla caught her up, inhaling the sharp smell of cow parsley frothing in the hedgerows. ‘Looks like it.’ She was wondering how she could get Charlie to talk about what was troubling her.

  As they walked, Charlie kicked at stones on the track for Titch to race after. ‘Louise told me there’s a dog show tomorrow. Can we go?’

  ‘Yes – on one condition. I’d like us to be honest with each other.’ They were walking side by side with no eye contact to deflect the conversation.

  ‘What do you mean? Now what have I done?’ Charlie was immediately on her guard.

  ‘Nothing at all. I just think we should have some rules for the next few days.’

&n
bsp; ‘Rules.’ The word was muttered.

  ‘Yes, rules.’ Isla felt a new determination to make their relationship work. ‘So I’m going to be straight with you. Neither of us expected to be in this situation, and I get that you’d far rather be with your friends at home. But you rather screwed that up for yourself, didn’t you?’

  ‘It wasn’t my fault.’ Charlie kicked a stone onto the verge, sending Titch racing after it.

  ‘Once is one thing. But twice?’

  ‘Why won’t anyone believe me?’ Her sense of injustice was heartfelt and almost convincing. Helen used to use exactly the same tone.

  ‘Listen. I’m not sitting in judgement. That’s for Helen and Mike, if anybody. But, my point is, we didn’t exactly choose to be on holiday together—’

  ‘You don’t want me any more than they do.’

  Isla was appalled. ‘But of course I do and so do they. But I’d like us to enjoy the next couple of days. Or at least to do our best.’

  ‘I enjoyed going with Lou,’ Charlie said defensively.

  ‘I saw that and I’m glad, but that’s not being with me. So I’ve been thinking…’ They stopped for a family wobbling by on their bikes. ‘Jock! Come!’ The old Lab came back immediately on command, the other three dogs in his wake. Isla and Charlie grabbed their collars and stepped back onto the overgrown verge as they waited for them to pass.

  Charlie was silent, obviously expecting some ultimatum that she would have to endure.

  ‘Okay,’ said Isla once they were on the move again. ‘Here are my rules. For everything I want to do that you don’t, we’ll do something that you want to do, that I don’t.’

  Charlie looked up, her eyes brighter. ‘So like I get to do some of what I want? Really?’

  ‘Yes, but we have to be honest with each other. Right?’ Optimism flared inside Isla. Perhaps, when awake in the small hours, she had hit on something.

  ‘Right. So we can go to the dog show?’

  ‘Exactly. Now I don’t particularly want to go to that but… if you come to Haddon Hall, then yes, we’ll go. You never know, we might surprise ourselves and enjoy them both.’

  Charlie’s scepticism was probably healthy.

  ‘And… my other rule.’ This was the one that Isla was more nervous about. ‘You don’t bring your phone to the table when we’re eating.’ A step too far?

  ‘What?!’ Charlie hovered between disbelief and outrage.

  Her face was such a picture, Isla had to stop herself from laughing. As she suspected.

  ‘But someone might text me.’

  ‘I’m sure they can wait half an hour for a reply.’ Probably not true, but fair. ‘I don’t think it’s a lot to ask.’

  There was silence as they carried on walking, the path taking them under an old road bridge, Isla anxious she had just made things worse between them.

  Finally Charlie spoke. ‘So I can make some rules too?’

  ‘Of course.’ Why not? ‘Like what?’

  ‘I’m thinking. I’ll tell you soon.’

  ‘All right. So while you think, why don’t you tell me what happened at school?’ At that point, the trees on the left of them cleared to reveal meadows running up to the dark green of a forest.

  ‘Okay, that’s rule number one. Not to sound like Mum.’

  Isla laughed. ‘Fair enough. Even though I’d like to know.’

  ‘Even though. But I’ll tell you this time.’ She pulled at a piece of long grass, then bent down to pat Titch and give him a treat from her pocket. ‘Like, my friend Emily had a house party when her mum and dad went away to their country place. Her brother was there, and he didn’t mind. Someone brought some weed – but because I was there, I got reported to the school too. Somebody’s mum actually complained. The one with the weed was expelled and the rest of us were suspended. And Mum’s furious. Fucking unfair.’

  ‘Charlie!’

  The girl wagged a finger at her. ‘First rule broken again. You sound just like Mum. What’s the fine?’

  Isla laughed. ‘He who breaks the rule gets the next treat. Want an ice cream?’

  They had reached an old station building, Hassop Station read the sign, that had been requisitioned as a thriving café and shop so, in agreement, they tied the dogs to a railing and went inside. From then on the walk was a pleasure. After Charlie’s confidence, Isla found herself opening up too in response to Charlie’s questions.

  ‘I don’t really understand why you think your mum being in Paris has anything to do with her will. I mean, she was young then.’

  ‘I know. It’s just a hunch born from the fact she left me a picture with a note in French attached. I can’t help feeling that it all connects somehow.’

  ‘Seems a bit of a stretch, if you ask me.’

  ‘Maybe. But it’s all I’ve got at the moment.’

  They walked a long way, through another abandoned station, past picnic spots, houses with people chatting in gardens, and through a long dirty, damp tunnel that opened up to a stunning view from a long viaduct over uninterrupted rolling countryside. By the time they eventually returned to the car, a truce had definitely been brokered.

  However, within moments of shutting the passenger door, Charlie’s phone was out and she was back in her own world. There was nothing Isla could say without breaking the new rules. She was determined to stick to her side of the deal.

  16

  To Isla’s surprise, Charlie stuck to her side of their bargain by not producing her phone at supper and joined in the conversation without scowling whenever Isla spoke. Morag and Louise were good at drawing Charlie out of herself and, perhaps key, treating her like an equal.

  ‘Have you got a boyfriend, Charlie?’ Louise didn’t look up from her plate as she asked. Isla would never have dared.

  Charlie blushed. ‘No.’

  ‘Early days, I guess. You will, if your grandmother’s anything to go by.’ Morag inclined her head towards Isla.

  ‘Hang on. That’s a bit of an exaggeration.’ Isla’s cheeks were burning.

  But Charlie’s interest had been snagged. She put down her knife and fork and looked at her. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Your grandmother was a tearaway when she was young.’ Morag grinned, deliberately taunting her sister, daring her to shut her up.

  ‘Must you?’ Isla could have throttled her.

  ‘Were you?’ Charlie asked with absolute incredulity.

  ‘Not so much.’ She glared at Morag, not wanting to elaborate, then paused – wasn’t that exactly what her own mother had done? May had doctored her past, as far as her children were concerned, so that it was as if her life before them had barely happened.

  ‘Let’s just say she enjoyed herself, then.’ Morag crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back, satisfied that she’d put the cat smack dab among the pigeons.

  Isla placed her knife and fork carefully on her plate, exactly side by side. ‘I didn’t do anything anyone else wasn’t doing at drama school in the seventies.’ They had been good times, even though they had seen the end of her ambition.

  ‘You wanted to be an actor? I never knew that.’ Now Charlie was interested.

  Isla gave in. ‘I did. Aggie gave me the bug.’

  ‘She was in lots of school plays,’ encouraged Morag.

  ‘Yes, but once I got to college, I realised being good at school wasn’t good enough. There were people there who were much more talented than me. But I kept going because I didn’t know what else to do.’

  ‘And because of Robbie,’ prompted Morag.

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake.’ Isla hadn’t thought of Robbie Jennings for years, the first boy she slept with who came out soon afterwards. At the time, it hadn’t been much of a boost to her morale and it made her the butt of many a joke.

  ‘And then she met your grandfather.’

  ‘I’m sure Charlie’s not really interested.’ Those days seemed so long ago now, but she could remember the burst of excitement when she first saw Ian, his long
hair overlapping the collar of the black velvet cape he always wore: ridiculously theatrical from the start.

  ‘I am,’ her granddaughter protested.

  ‘I’ve got Mum’s old albums and I’m pretty sure there’s a photo of both of you in it.’ Morag got up and went off to find it.

  ‘Talking of men. Are you seeing anyone at the moment?’ Lou was looking at her, interested. As was Charlie.

  Isla could feel herself blushing again. ‘We-ell…’

  ‘You are?’ Morag could barely contain herself as she returned to the table with a fat photo album with faded blue covers. ‘At last. Is he a keeper this time?’

  ‘You’re making me sound like some sort of… I don’t know what.’ Couldn’t the others see she was uncomfortable talking about this in front of Charlie?

  ‘Don’t be daft.’ Morag took absolutely no notice of her most basilisk stare. ‘Well, is he?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She gave in. ‘He’s nice. I’m… well, yeah…’

  ‘Nicer than Grandad?’ Charlie couldn’t take her eyes off Isla.

  Morag hugged her. ‘There aren’t many men nicer than Ian. He just wasn’t great husband material.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Oh God.

  ‘Well, I’m hardly the one to tell you.’ She smiled across the table at Louise. ‘But I daresay Isla can.’

  ‘This is a daft conversation.’ Isla attempted to put an end to it.

  ‘No it’s not,’ Charlie protested. ‘I want to know.’

  Isla remembered again May’s frustrating reticence about her own past. ‘Not now, darling. Not interesting.’ Or ‘You don’t want to know.’ ‘I can’t remember.’ She’d brush any questions away like irritating flies.

  Isla didn’t want to be that woman. If Charlie was interested, Isla should tell her. ‘He was a better actor than me and got a chance to go to Hollywood.’ She decided to edit out Anna Frank for now, the actor who had travelled ahead of him and sent urgent messages home saying how much she missed him, and telling him about the opportunities her agent had assured her awaited him. He had left a couple of her letters in their letter rack where Isla found them. At that point, their relationship was on its last legs, thanks to his apparent indifference towards their life as a family. His career came first. His decision to go to LA had been the final straw. All the letters had done was confirm what she already knew: she and Helen were better off without him. But she didn’t want Charlie to think the worst of him.