A Home For Her Baby
Eleanor Jones
She’s looking for a future…but can’t forget her pastDanger is a part of everyday life for fisherman Tom Roberts, but nothing prepares him for the loss of his brother—or the role Ali Nicholas plays in the tragedy.Struggling between grief and his feelings for Ali, Tom’s heart is divided. Then Ali learns she’s pregnant… Can the baby help Tom and Ali find forgiveness?
She’s looking for a future...
But he can’t forget the past
Danger is a part of everyday life for fisherman Tom Roberts, but nothing prepares him for the loss of his brother—or the role Ali Nicholas plays in the tragedy. Struggling between grief and his feelings for Ali, Tom’s heart is divided. Then Ali learns she’s pregnant... Can the baby help Tom and Ali find forgiveness?
ELEANOR JONES was brought up on a farm in the north of England and learned to love animals and the countryside from an early age. She has ridden all her life, and after marrying her husband at just eighteen years old and having two wonderful children, they set up a riding center together. This is still thriving over thirty years later, doing hacks, treks and lessons for all ages and experiences. Her daughter competes at the national level, and she is now a partner in the business and brings her adorable three-year-old son to work with her every day. Eleanor’s son is also married with two children, and they live nearby.
Eleanor has been writing for what feels like her whole life. Her early handwritten novels still grace a dusty shelf in the back of a cupboard somewhere, but she was first published over fifteen years ago, when she wrote teenage pony mysteries.
Also by Eleanor Jones (#u0a6bef2c-0e68-58ee-903b-1368b42078b2)
The Country Vet
A Place Called Home
The Little Dale Remedy
Shadow on the Fells
Footprints in the Sand
A Father’s Pledge
A Heartbeat Away
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
A Home for Her Baby
Eleanor Jones
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07817-7
A HOME FOR HER BABY
© 2018 Eleanor Grace Jones
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my brother Thomas
who always reads my books
Contents
Cover (#ub016fb35-73e6-5d26-b8fe-a1e76e0b888f)
Back Cover Text (#udffc7943-2547-56c3-b7a2-fbddf3e258d4)
About the Author (#uac23d39c-24a0-508b-b1cc-ebfeca45f0cb)
Booklist (#u894f4beb-b252-59fa-8e4c-72c06abeba2e)
Title Page (#uf56865d3-2724-5043-a0ed-fc515e7862ab)
Copyright (#uc9e6c62f-c85c-54fa-a64d-74ab31168321)
Dedication (#ube3d6fa7-6a58-5c24-8d9b-86e2264c1666)
CHAPTER ONE (#u8ca38cae-80cb-5327-91fc-f42bd211a4dd)
CHAPTER TWO (#ua4e2a8a2-1079-51fe-b210-03d1fab8b566)
CHAPTER THREE (#u16c10e44-19ed-528c-8669-0ec39a1c80a5)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u4ec9eb26-c242-5dfa-a76e-32fec2022822)
CHAPTER FIVE (#uef8bdb70-97bf-5466-b37d-63598a32b8df)
CHAPTER SIX (#u0dfc2c56-5ffb-5c70-892d-835d50c6f25a)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#ud3a2b062-6f57-51a4-9d62-55bb63ecd2d7)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#u12d69e04-fe57-5e74-adef-aca1f46f5365)
CHAPTER NINE (#u6745aa7e-04ef-540b-a11c-748e9e06ce29)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u0a6bef2c-0e68-58ee-903b-1368b42078b2)
“I TOLD YOU it was going to get rough.” Tom Roberts checked the weather warning yet again before looking back at his younger brother, his expression darkening. “I warned you, Bobby, you should never have asked her along in the first place. Night fishing in October is not a holiday jaunt. I make the decisions, remember, it’s my call, and if this storm really kicks in then the last thing we need is a woman on board, especially a total rookie... Anyway, your problem, because no matter what happens there’s no way we’re giving up on this fishing trip.”
Bobby glanced out at the raging black sea beyond the cabin window. The Sea Hawk was already being buffeted by the waves that crashed onto the deck. “I’ll watch out for her,” he said determinedly, balancing with long practiced ease as the boat lurched up beneath their feet, then plunged back down with the rolling waves.
Tom resolutely held it on course. “It’s like a roller coaster,” he yelled over the thumping engine and the roar of the ocean. “No...!” His dark eyes shone. “It’s better than a roller coaster because it’s real life.”
“I’ll go see where Ali is,” Bobby said. “And don’t worry, I’ll make sure she stays off the deck.”
Tom leaned across so he could hear. “Tell her to stay away from you, more like... You’re only twenty, Bob. She’s way too old for you and you’ll only end up getting hurt.”
Bobby frowned. “Don’t be daft, she’s just a friend...and she’s married anyway. She promised to scatter her dad’s ashes on the ocean... He was a fisherman, too. She’d just met him for the first time only a few months before he died and it all came as a bit of a shock. Have a heart, Tom. She just wants to do right by her dad.”
“I think it’s your heart that’s the problem,” Tom responded with a wry smile, focusing all his attention on the controls of The Sea Hawk. “She’s got way too deeply into it if you ask me.”
“I’m not asking you,” Bobby snapped. “I’ll go and see where she is.”
* * *
DESPITE HAVING BEEN ordered to stay inside, Ali stood on the deck clutching her precious urn. She wanted to scatter her dad’s ashes at just the right moment, a moment he’d have gloried in, when the sea was at its wildest. And surely this must be it. Holding tightly on to all she had left of the father she’d barely known, she remembered the days just before he died, when she’d sat with him and he’d opened up to her about his life. He’d told her things then that her mother never had; the things she’d always wondered about.
Allowing herself to sway with the movement of the boat, she clung to the rail, tears in her eyes. Hearing his voice inside her head as clearly as if he was standing right beside her.
I loved your mother so much then...still do if I’m honest. It broke my heart when she left me and I missed you both every single day. You mustn’t blame her though; it was the fishing, you see. I was always going off in the boat, leaving her alone, worrying and wondering. I guess she just couldn’t live with the sea...and I couldn’t live without it—it’s in my blood. Promise me, Ali, that you’ll make sure I end up in the wildest ocean you can find. Scatter my ashes on the rolling sea and I’ll be a very happy ghost.
They’d laughed about it at the time, but she had promised and she intended to keep that promise, no matter what. And this, she decided with a shiver of apprehension, must surely be about as wild as the sea could get.
The lights of the fishing boat penetrated the blackness of the night, bringing a shimmer to the rolling waves and outlining the dark bulk of the boat that suddenly lurched and heaved beneath her, knocking her off balance. She grabbed for the rail with one hand while turning her face into the wind, alarmed at its ferocity and yet totally intoxicated by the crashing of the waves and the salty tang of the ocean. She felt closer to her dad here than she had in the brief time she knew him, for this was his world. The sea had been his whole life and she owed it to him to make it his final resting place.
The wind howled menacingly in the cloudy black sky above and her apprehension gave way to real fear as the wooden deck seemed to suddenly disappear beneath her, thrusting her back up again as a mighty wave took the boat in its grasp. A wall of water towered above the cabin, crashing down onto the deck in a rushing mass of rippling white foam that almost took her feet from under her as she desperately clung to the urn with one hand and the rail with the other. The water forced her up against the side of the boat, but despite her looming awareness of the danger she was in, she kept her focus.
“I have to do this for you, Dad,” she cried as the next wave rolled across the deck beneath her feet, knocking her off balance. The urn slipped from her fingers and she released the rail, dropping onto her hands and knees to make a grab for it.
“Ali! Ali!” Bobby’s voice sounded distant against the howling wind. She glanced back for just a second and saw his bright young face beneath the waterproofs that hid his thatch of red hair. “Ali,” he yelled again. “Hang on... I’m coming.”
The boat leveled for a moment, and everything went strangely still. This was her chance. Seizing the opportunity, she grasped hold of the urn and unscrewed its lid, fighting back fear as she struggled to scatter the contents of the urn into the sea. The boat rolled violently as the next wave hit, and she hooked her fingers around the rail with a sense of relief. But as she upended the urn, the mighty wind whipped the gravelly dust and hurled it back in her face as if in mockery of her plight. Dust filled her eyes, her mouth. Panic seized her and for a moment everything froze. And then her fingers were slipping...slipping.
Bobby’s voice rang in her ears. “Ali...! Ali... Hang on, I’m coming.”
His words stalled as the next wave hit, lifting her off her feet. She fought for breath as it hurled her against the railing, tossing her like a rag doll up and over the side of the boat, down toward the raging black sea.
As she fell, Ali felt strangely distanced from the events overtaking her. Was this it then, the end? Was she to join her father in the roiling sea? Was that what he’d wanted?
“Ali...! Ali!” She heard Bobby’s voice again, screaming in fear, but it was too far away.
Something suddenly grabbed her, stopping her fall midflight but almost tearing her arm from its socket. The icy water numbed her legs as she hung half in and half out of the ocean, gasping for breath as the boat sank down into the sea before lifting her out again to gulp in air. The noise overpowered her; the howl of the wind, the crash of the waves and all the time, in the background, the steady throb of The Sea Hawk’s engine. It felt like her heartbeat inside her head. She tried to move; a wave of agony ran down her arm and she started to scream. “Bobby... Bobby! Help me!”
CHAPTER TWO (#u0a6bef2c-0e68-58ee-903b-1368b42078b2)
IT WAS JUST as Bobby reached the hatch that Tom saw them. Ali was standing right by the rails, outlined against the formidable black sea by the boat’s flickering light; her face was bright with a kind of raw exhilaration that took his breath away.
“Ali!” Bobby yelled, heading toward her. “Ali!”
Tom cursed silently. Didn’t she realize just how dangerous her situation was?
“Ali!” Bobby yelled again, his voice now a scream that was whipped away by the howling wind. The boat rose on a wave, then dipped down suddenly. Ali lost her footing and the urn she was clutching fell from her hands onto the deck. “Leave it,” Bobby cried.
Ignoring his plea she dropped down on her knees, reaching for the urn that was rolling across the wooden deck. Grabbing hold of it she turned to look across at Bobby, and Tom noted with a jolt of apprehension that the exhilaration in her eyes had now been replaced by raw fear.
“Hang on to the rail,” Bobby yelled as the boat leveled out once more, but Ali determinedly began to unscrew the lid, trying to scatter the ashes into the sea as he made his way toward her. The wind whipped the contents of the urn into her face.
Tom saw the panic in her eyes as the storm took the boat back into its grip and for an endless moment time seemed suspended. The deck rose violently beneath their feet as another huge wave hit; Ali looked up in horror as the water towered above them, as high as the mast itself, before crashing down with a violence that stopped Tom in his tracks and forced Bobby back.
“Ali...! Ali!” his brother yelled again, his voice breaking as the wave hit her. In desperation she tried to hang on to the rail, fighting to stay on her feet as the powerful wave took her. Tom watched helplessly as she slid, over the side and into the raging sea.
“Bobby!” he screamed. His brother headed straight for the railing with no thought for his own safety.
Tom struggled along the rolling deck, watching the scene play out as if it was all happening to someone else. By now Bobby was leaning precariously over the rail, peering into the heaving ocean, the black water flickering and glistening in the yellow lights of the boat. He yelled Ali’s name over and over, despite the roar of the wind.
To Tom’s horror, he started to clamber over the rail... “I’m coming, Ali,” he called. “Don’t worry.”
“Get back, Bobby,” Tom shouted as another wave hit. He struggled toward the rail. “It’s an order, Bob... Don’t be stupid.” His words were lost as the wave crashed down over the boat hurling him against the side.
Hearing the cries, the two other fishermen, Mike and their father, Jed, appeared on deck, struggling to balance against the force of the water as they went to help...but it was too late. By the time they joined Tom at the rail Bobby was gone.
Desperately scouring the heaving waves, an empty space where his heart should be, Tom detected a shape in the water. “There,” he yelled. “Look!”
Mike peered down to where he pointed. “It’s the girl.” he said in a heavy tone.
“You get her,” ordered Tom. “I’ll keep looking for Bobby... Dad, can you get the floodlight out onto the sea and grab a life belt ready to throw out to him...and call Search and Rescue.”
* * *
ALI FOUGHT TO stay conscious, fought to breathe, fought for her life against the raging sea as the icy cold water crashed over her again and again. A burning agony ran down her arm. She was stuck, caught up in something. All the while she could hear Bobby calling her name. His face was a blur as he looked down from the boat, the sea raining over him like a shimmering waterfall. And then he was a part of the waterfall, plummeting toward her. As the weight of his body thudded against her she tried to grab hold of him, clinging desperately onto his arm. For an endless second their eyes made contact and then he was gone, torn away by the cruel sea. Desolation hit and she closed her eyes, the whole world going black.
The pain made her cry out. It engulfed her, tearing through her shoulder and down her arm. Where was she? It was cold, so cold...
“Just hang on lass.”
A deep masculine voice came from somewhere way above her. Was it God’s voice she could hear? Reality hit as she felt herself being physically dragged upward and memories kicked in. “Bobby!” she called out, but her voice was just a croak.
“They’re looking for him,” came the man’s voice again as he hauled her over the rails and onto the deck. Another wave of pain flooded over her but all she could see was the desperation in Bobby’s eyes as she lost her grip on his arm. She should have tried harder. “It’s Mike,” the man said. “Remember me?”
“Mike,” she repeated, recognizing the bearded face that hovered over her. He picked her up as if she weighed nothing and carried her into the cabin, laying her down and removing her wet clothes with a sense of urgency but no embarrassment.
“Here,” he said, wrapping her in a blanket and then in something shiny. “This will help keep your body temperature up... Are you sure you’re okay? You must be in shock.”
She nodded urgently, fighting off dizziness and nausea. “Never mind me, I’m fine... Go and help them find Bobby.”
He didn’t need asking twice. “Just stay here, inside,” he told her, heading out again into the howling wind.
Ali watched from the window of the cabin, dragged down by misery and guilt. If Bobby... She fought back a sob, pressing her face against the window. If Bobby was lost it was all her fault. A spotlight flickered across the surface of the turbulent sea. The men peered over the rails, shouting his name over and over. “Bobby... Bobby... Bobby!”
At least he was wearing a life jacket she realized, so he couldn’t drown...could he? And then she remembered something his brother Tom had said when he was sorting out some kit for her to wear on the boat, including a life jacket. She’d asked him if everyone had to wear one and his answer had surprised her. “Not necessarily,” he’d replied. “In fact some fishermen won’t wear life jackets at all because they think they’re a waste of time. The thing is, though, ifyou do wear one then even if you drown, at least your body won’t be lost atsea and your family will know for sure what happened to you.”
Her heart tightened as she remembered that moment. They’d laughed, she and Tom, as she tried on the huge oilskins, reminding her of when she’d been staying in his family’s pub and they’d chatted in the bar about fishing and the sea. She’d thought they were friends, but he’d only reluctantly agreed to let her come on this trip, and apart from that one episode with the oilskins, he’d been curt and distant... Now she knew why. Her presence on the boat in such bad weather had put them all at risk.
Bobby couldn’t drown, he mustn’t drown... It wasn’t right. And if he did...if he had, then it would all be down to her.
Hours passed, or what felt like hours to Ali. If only one of them would come and tell her something...unless there was nothing to tell. She nursed her arm to try and ease the pain, thinking about Bobby and feeling guilty for being warm and dry. Bobby was always so much fun, laughing, joking and singing karaoke in the pub. Someone so vibrant and bubbling with life had to be fine...didn’t they? He was kind and caring, too, and so young. He had far too much left to give for his life to be taken; she just needed to stay positive.
Nursing her throbbing arm she cast her mind back to the first time they met. She’d gone with her husband, Jake, to a charity event at the college in Manchester where he lectured and Bobby was a student in his tourism and hospitality course. Jake introduced them and they’d chatted, just general stuff, but after that she’d seemed to keep bumping into him when she least expected it. They’d fallen into an unlikely and totally innocent friendship, and when her dad died and then her marriage went wrong and she’d had no one to talk to, he’d been there. In fact, she realized, she’d have been lost back then without his good advice and common sense.
You need to take some time out, he’d told her. A trial separation to decide what you really want. Maybe you could even do something for your dad. You’re a journalist and he was a fisherman, perhaps you should write an article on fishing and the sea, in his memory.
His suggestion had taken root and grown. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, her coming to stay at his family’s pub, The Fisherman’s Inn in Jenny Brown’s Bay, a little village between Arnside and Morecambe. She’d so enjoyed talking to the fishermen who frequented the pub in the evenings, especially Bobby’s older brother Tom and learning what her father’s life must have been like. In the end she’d taken a six month lease on a cottage right down by the sea and begun writing her article. She closed her eyes and shook her head... How had it ended like this. If she hadn’t taken Bobby up on his suggestion to come here—or if she’d followed Tom’s advice and stayed on shore—tonight would never have happened. Oh why did she always have to be so pigheaded?
Mike appeared again, peering cautiously round the door. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Have you found him?”
“Search and Rescue are out looking.” His mouth was a grim line. “His brother Ned works for them and he’s on duty tonight so he’ll find Bobby, I’m sure of it.”
Ali saw the lights first, blazing through the blackness. She pressed her face against the glass. They must have found him...
The Search and Rescue boat came right up against The Sea Hawk, grating hull to hull. A man secured the ropes and a familiar figure jumped effortlessly across the gap between the boats... Ned, it was Ned.
He spoke to Jed first, placing an arm around his father’s shoulders. When Jed dropped his face into his hands Ali’s heart sank and an unshed well of tears stopped her breathing. No...no...no...this couldn’t be happening.
She was gasping for breath when Ned burst through the cabin door. “It’s you...” he yelled. “My brother’s dead because of you.”
Ali sank to her knees, not noticing that the storm had died and the pale light of dawn was sneaking over the horizon, bringing the promise of a new day; a day that didn’t have Bobby in it...because of her. “I am so, so sorry,” she groaned, rocking from side to side, her pain forgotten.
“It’s all your fault!” Ned said, turning away.
Eventually Tom came back to the cabin, his face ashen and his eyes dark and empty. Ignoring Ali he took the controls, piloting the boat on automatic. Half an hour went by before he spoke. “I told you to stay down below,” he said without looking round. It was an accusation, Ali knew that, but she didn’t know how to respond.
“Oh no. I’m sorry,” she eventually managed, her voice little more than a whisper. Tom just stared ahead, and she could see his eyes were bright with tears he wouldn’t allow himself to shed.
They traveled like that for over an hour, across the restless rippling sea, unaware of the glorious dawn that brought a hint of pale winter sunshine that made the water sparkle. It felt to Ali as if the sea was laughing at their plight, but still she couldn’t hate it. She was the one who deserved to be hated. Mike came and went again, in silence, for there was nothing to be said.
Back at the harbor, Tom and Mike worked in silence, securing the boat. Ali sat motionless, still wrapped in a blanket, not knowing what to say or do. There was nothing she could do, no words she could say that might help. Her heart was a lump of lead inside her chest, her mind an empty space that was still trying to process what had happened. She looked at Tom... Bobby was his brother.
Tom just looked broken and lost.
A heavy flood of tears pressed against her eyelids. What she felt must be nothing to what he was going through. Bobby’s death had been her fault, but she knew Tom would blame himself and he now had the task of going home with his dad to break the awful news to his mother, Grace, and his seventeen-year-old sister, Lily. They’d be waiting impatiently at The Fisherman’s Inn right now, waiting for their family to come home...still unaware one of them was gone forever and the fishing trip that had started out as an adventure had become a nightmare that could never end.
Mike looked into the cabin as he was about to leave. “You okay?” he asked.
Afraid to see sympathy in his eyes when she didn’t deserve it, she just nodded, unable to bring herself to look at him. “You need to go home now,” he told her. “And try to get some sleep. I can give you a lift if you’d like.”
She shook her head. “No need, thanks,” she said, standing up and dropping her blanket onto the bench. “It’s not very far. I’ll be fine.”
Tom was still on board when she left the boat and she watched and waited in the shadows until he locked the cabin, left the boat and walked woodenly across to his truck, looking neither left nor right. Only then did she start slowly walking et off toward her cottage on Cove Road, remembering how the adventure had begun, just yesterday. She’d walked so eagerly down to the boatyard, alight with excitement. And then she’d overheard them, Tom, Ned, Bobby and Jed, arguing about whether or not she should come along. Bobby had invited her and she’d been so looking forward to the chance to return her father’s ashes to the sea. When she overheard Tom calling her a rookie and a city girl who’d cause only problems for them, she’d felt a rush of disappointment. It was Bobby who was her friend, but she thought she and Tom were building a friendship, too. He’d been so patient with her many questions and had given her a lot of information on fishing as a way of life. She’d been annoyed and maybe a little hurt to find out just how angry he was about Bobby inviting her along, especially when it was so important to her. Now she knew better. She dropped her face into her hands... Now she knew just how right Tom had been and just how foolish she was.
Opening the cottage door, she went through into the sitting room that overlooked the sea and collapsed on the sofa, feeling as if the whole world was closing in on her. Bobby Roberts was dead and it was all because of her.
CHAPTER THREE (#u0a6bef2c-0e68-58ee-903b-1368b42078b2)
ALI GROANED, clutching at her shoulder, her heart beating erratically as the memories kicked in... The boat...the sea...and Bobby; it was just a bad dream...had to be a bad dream. The agony in her arm said otherwise and she dragged herself up from her awkward position on the couch, crying out with the pain. She must have slept, but how could she, after everything?
Outside, bizarrely, the sun was shining, bringing a sparkle to the tranquil ocean, just as if it was an ordinary day. But it could never be ordinary again could it...not ever. Bobby was dead because of her and she had no right to be alive. Wracked by sobs she walked to the window, looking out at the scene that only yesterday she’d loved with a passion. Now it felt as if the sea was laughing at her, mocking her with its feigned serenity. A wave of dizziness washed over her and she shuddered. She needed to go to the hospital, she knew that, but it just felt so wrong. Why should she be free of pain when nothing could be done for Bobby?
Her car was parked outside. All she had to do was climb inside, put the key into the ignition, start the engine and drive herself to the hospital: a simple task that seemed almost impossible without the use of her right arm. Almost,she told herself determinedly, picking up her car keys with her left hand...
By the time Ali had managed to get into the driver’s seat she felt totally exhausted. Not only were her arm and shoulder screaming with objection, her whole body seemed to be rebelling. She felt sick and dizzy and her skin was rimed with cold sweat. Gritting her teeth she tried to put the key into the ignition with her left hand, wishing she’d done it before she got into her seat. When the keys dropped to the floor with a heavy jangling sound it all became too much. She slumped forward, giving way to a huge wave of dizziness, and rested her forehead heavily on the steering wheel.
She didn’t know how long she’d been like that when she sensed a presence outside the car window. It might have been minutes or it might have been hours for she was in an empty place where time was lost in the weight of the past.
“Move over.” She heard the voice somewhere in her subconscious, a man’s voice, deep and familiar. A tingle of warmth crept through her veins as she turned awkwardly to see Tom standing by the door. “Move over,” he repeated gruffly.
Soundlessly, she did as she was asked, gratefully making the transition from driver to passenger in a series of painful shunts. He opened the door and climbed in, sitting down heavily. His face was gaunt and set, staring soundlessly ahead. She wanted to say something, for him to say something, but a heavy cloud of silence settled over them. “Keys?” he eventually managed and when she gestured toward the floor he reached down and picked them up, putting them into the ignition and starting the engine.
The world outside the car was a fuzzy blur to Ali as they headed through the village and out onto the main road. Sea and sand and sky, buildings, cars and passers-by, all became one intermingled image as the miles sped by. The hospital sign was the first thing she really saw. Bright and bold it sprang out at her, offering comfort from the pain she so deserved... She glanced across to where Tom sat still, his expression unfathomable. Why had he helped her, she wondered, after...? And how had he known?
“Accident & Emergency is just there,” he said, staring ahead as if unable to look at her.
She dragged herself from the car and headed for the double doors, leaning on the wall for support. And then he was beside her, taking her good arm and guiding her into the dazzling brightness. The woman at the desk looked up at them with a toothy smile. “Yes?” she said. “Can I have your name please?”
It was Tom who answered, his tone abrupt. “Her name is Ali Nicholas. She’s hurt her arm.”
“And you are...?”
“I just gave her a lift... I’ll leave her with you now.”
When he walked away without a backward glance Ali wanted to cry.
* * *
TOM DROVE ON AUTOMATIC, unable to process the events of the last twelve hours. His mother and younger sister, Lily, had taken the news badly and looked at him with accusation in their eyes. He was the one who was supposed to keep everyone safe and he’d failed. His instincts had warned him not to let Ali go out with them; he’d had enough warnings over the years. Why, just a year or so ago Ricky Biggins, an experienced fisherman and childhood friend of his, perished in a storm—fell from The Peacock and was never found. He should never have ignored his gut feeling and now it was too late...so if anyone was to blame it was he. Ali’s failing was simply ignorance.
When his dad came home he’d placed a hand firmly on his eldest son’s shoulder. “It’s fishing, son,” he’d said. “And sometimes there’s a price we have to pay for what we do... It’s the sea that’s at fault, not you.”
Although kindly spoken, for Tom those words had made things even worse. He didn’t deserve pity or understanding, he’d failed his family, but most of all he’d failed Bobby. “No, Dad,” he’d said sadly. “I was in charge and it should never have happened.”
He’d walked away then from the oppressive silence that hung thick and heavy in the large homely kitchen of The Fisherman’s Inn, through the locked and empty bar and out into the impossible brightness of a late autumn afternoon. There’d been nowhere to go then but home, even though he already knew that his cozy cottage on Cove Road couldn’t provide any comfort this time.
He saw her sitting in her car as he walked toward his cottage, just two doors down from hers. Ali! She was the last person he needed to see. He’d tried to just walk past the car where she sat so forlornly, looking determinedly the other way...but when he heard a low moan he reluctantly peered inside. She was slumped forward over the wheel, her skin the color of alabaster.
A vague recollection slid into his foggy brain. They were searching for Bobby, scouring the surface of the raging sea with increasing desperation, when Mike said that he thought Ali might have dislocated her shoulder. It had hardly registered...until that moment. He’d looked again and knew he had to help her.
Unable to face the hospital where they’d brought Bobby a few short hours ago, he’d intended to just drop her off. But she’d walked so slowly toward the entrance, holding on to the wall for support, that he hadn’t been able to simply leave her until she’d gone inside and seen someone. As soon as the nurse came in he took his leave and fled.
He’d done what he could, he told himself as he’d driven away. She was in good hands, and if they released her she could easily ring a taxi. He needed to go home, to be on his own for a while to try and come to terms with what had happened. At the moment he felt as if he was living in a fog, a fog that held a nightmare he couldn’t quite face up to.
He knew that he had to go back before he was hardly a mile away from town; it felt almost as if Bobby was there beside him telling him that he had to help her. She’d looked so shocked and gray and scared that despite what had happened, be it her fault or not, he couldn’t just abandon her. With a lead weight in his heart he swung the car round in the road and headed back toward the hospital.
Mary, the A&E receptionist, told him to sit down while she went to find out what was happening. She came back after just a few minutes. “She’s dislocated her shoulder and the doctor is with her now,” she told him.
Tom couldn’t muster a response. He showed no sign of interest or concern. He simply felt detached. The receptionist must have noticed because she peered at him closely and asked, “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “Yes...fine.”
Mary smiled encouragingly, but Tom could see in her eyes that she was alarmed by the lack of expression on his face. “Don’t worry, she won’t be long now,” she said.
* * *
THE DOCTORS HAD relocated and strapped her shoulder under anesthetic, and physically, Ali felt much better, but her head was in turmoil. She made her way back into reception with a packet holding prescription painkillers. When the nurse asked if she had someone to take her home and look after her she’d nodded. Bobby’s death was still too raw for her to feel sorry for herself. She could manage on her own.
Now, though, she wasn’t so sure; how was she going to get home? Feeling weepy and guilty and lost she stepped into the quiet waiting room where rows of people sat patiently...and there he was: Tom Roberts, waiting for her. With an almost imperceptible nod of his head he stood and she followed slowly in his wake, out into the red glow of the evening sun.
He drove slowly toward Jenny Brown’s Bay, staring straight ahead. Ali knew he couldn’t bring himself to look at her and she understood that. He pulled up on Cove Road, cut the car engine and climbed out. For a moment she thought he was just going to walk away but then, as if he’d thought better of it, he came round to her door to help her out. His hand on her arm felt cold and tight. “Thank you,” she said but he didn’t acknowledge her gratitude.
At the door he held out his hand. “Your key?”
She shook her head. “It’s not locked.”
The door opened with one push and she followed Tom into the kitchen, where he motioned to her to sit before walking across to fill the kettle at the sink. Neither of them spoke.
Ali nursed her arm, fighting off another wave of dizziness as the sound of the bubbling water gurgled inside her head. Tom just watched, grim-faced, as the steam rose in clouds, filling the room.
She wanted to reach out to him, wanted him to know how she felt. “I’m so sorry, Tom...so very, very sorry.”
He brewed the tea and poured her a cup. When he handed it to her she saw that his eyes were dark with pain. “Sympathy won’t bring Bobby back,” he said. “Nothing will.”
He left then, abruptly, and she just sat for a while with her mind in turmoil. What now? She so wanted to help, to speak to Bobby’s parents, to talk to Lily...and Ned. But what to say...what right had she to encroach on their grief?
* * *
FOR THE NEXT few days Ali hardly set foot outside. She watched Tom walk by the window every day from his cottage two doors down, staring straight ahead, his shoulders rounded. He never stopped though, never even gave her a glance or paused to ask her if she was okay. One day faded into another. She thought about Bobby, dwelled on if-onlys and remembered those pleasant evenings in the pub. She and Tom had chatted about fishing and life. She’d told him all about finding her dad just a few months earlier—that he’d been diagnosed with terminal cancer and how they’d finally gotten to know each other. She’d felt they were almost friends then, she and Tom. She’d even told him about her husband, Jake, not the details of course, just that they were having a trial separation. It had meant a lot to her, their friendship—he realized that now more than ever. But she knew that it could never be the same. Because of her, his brother, her good friend Bobby, was dead. How could either of them ever get past that? And yet he’d taken her to the hospital; she clung onto that thought like a lifeline.
It was late afternoon on the fourth day when a knock came at Ali’s door, a knock so intense that it made the door frame rattle. Her heart leaped with hope but anticipation quickly gave way to dismay. Was it Tom? What would she say to him...?
She turned the handle just as the door burst open, almost knocking her over. Stepping quickly back she braced herself against the wall as Ned Roberts appeared in front of her. His face was drawn, his eyes so black with an icy anger that she felt her whole body recoil.
“Happy are you?” he asked, his tone harsh, “Happy that you managed to survive when my brother died. We’ve been making the arrangements for Bobby’s funeral today, you see, and all I could think of was you...living your life. He was just twenty years old with his whole life ahead of him and he’s gone, snuffed out because of you.”
Ali started to shake. “No... I didn’t...I didn’t mean it to happen. It was an accident, just an accident.”
“An accident that wouldn’t have happened if you’d stayed away from him. Bobby was almost ten years younger than you, little more than a boy, and yet you used his feelings for you to get what you wanted. You should never have gone out on the boat that night. You had no right.”
“I’m sorry,” she cried, her voice rising uncontrollably. “I’d do anything to make things different.”
“Well, then, why don’t you start by getting out of Jenny Brown’s Bay and staying away from my family? No one wants you here.”
With that parting shot Ned pushed past her and disappeared out the door. Ali sank to her knees, watching him run off along the shore. Ned was right, Bobby had been little more than boy and that was how she’d thought of him. To suggest that he’d had feelings for her and that she’d used him in any way was so far away from the truth. Closing her eyes tightly against the pain that flooded over her she rocked to and fro. She had to come to terms with this, had to try and understand what Ned was going through. He was just twenty five years old, six years younger than Tom, and he’d lost his baby brother because of her... He had every right to hate her. She’d so wanted to go to the funeral, to talk to Bobby’s parents—and Tom—to help somehow, but maybe Ned was right and she should just leave.
After he’d gone she just sat there, going over and over that awful night, again and again. Ned’s words circled round inside her head. His life snuffed out, because of you...you lived and he died...no one wants you here.
He was right, she realized, trying to pull herself together, everything he said was right. It had all been her fault, and she had no right to hang around sharing the family’s grief. She’d come here, to Jenny Brown’s Bay, with so many hopes and dreams, to finish with her old life and start afresh with new friends around her. Tom had been a friend but, like Ned, he probably hated her now. Not that she could blame him either. Everything had changed, so suddenly and drastically, that it was difficult to know what to think or what to do.
Time ticked by and still Ali sat, her mind a million miles away from the things that had seemed so important just days ago, like the article she was going to write. Her notepad lay unopened on the table and right now she didn’t think that she would ever open it again.
When she heard the knocking at her door, her whole body froze. She couldn’t face Ned’s anger again however much she deserved it; there was nothing she could say to him that might help. When the knock sounded again, more urgent this time, she stumbled to her feet; what if it was someone else. Her hand shook as she reached for the door handle.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u0a6bef2c-0e68-58ee-903b-1368b42078b2)
TOM WALKED SLOWLY homeward along the clifftop, looking down at the stretch of silver sea that sparkled in the distance. Awaiting the returning tide, the wide sweep of sand shimmered, smooth and serene. In fact the whole scene looked so starkly beautiful and totally harmless right now that it seemed impossible to think that within just a couple of hours the sea would come rushing back in, tearing away the tranquility. That’s what he’d always loved about the sea, its changeability. Now he was not so sure. It was in his blood though, an untamable beast that he couldn’t resist, and he could never have a normal life because of it. What woman would want to share her life with constant fear and danger?
Someone moved way below him, across the sand, a tiny, sticklike figure in the distance. Ned, it was Ned. What was he doing... Had he been to see Ali as he’d threatened to so many times? No, surely not, for no matter what his brother thought, there was no peace to be had from displays of anger or laying blame; he’d made Ned see that...hadn’t he?
Increasing his pace he hurried along the clifftop path wondering if he should call in on her, just to make sure she was okay. He’d felt bad for ignoring her these last few days but everything had been too raw for him to be able to face up to the memories that seeing her might invoke. There was something about her that called out to him, a familiarity way deeper than their surface friendship; it had been forged when she was first at The Fisherman’s Inn, when she’d picked his brains about being a fisherman... After Bobby’s death, he found himself questioning his way of life. Fishing was in his blood, his soul, but was it worth the heartache it so often caused? Why, there were ten men he could name who had drowned over the last few years while following their life’s passion, a passion that sometimes seemed cursed. The Sea Hawk’s fateful trip had been cursed, too, that night, cursed by love. For Bobby had been in love with Ali and he’d died trying to save her; how could any of them get past that? There could never be anything between Tom and Ali now that wasn’t steeped in guilt, even friendship, because Bobby was no longer here. Tom needed time away from her, he knew that, time to grieve and time to sort out the confusion in his head.
Despite his determined thoughts as he approached her cottage, Number Three, his footsteps slowed again and doubt set in. She’d been so brave when he took her to the hospital. Her arm must have been in agony but she never even mentioned it. What if Ned really had called in on her; how must she be feeling? For a moment more he stood, indecisive, and then he slowly raised his hand to knock. When the door remained firmly closed, a flood of emotion overcame him, relief and disappointment vying for first place. He knocked again more firmly before suddenly reconsidering his actions. He couldn’t do this. Turning sharply, he headed off into the night.
* * *
ALI PUSHED THE door open gently, peering through the crack into the falling darkness with a surge of relief; no one was there. She’d been so afraid that it was Ned again.
Her phone started ringing with the bright jubilant tone that now sounded so wrong. She looked outside for a moment longer, just to reassure herself, before hurrying to answer it. The screen flashed with the caller’s name—Jake—he was the last person she’d expected to hear from. For a moment she considered just ignoring it. She’d had her say before she left, about fidelity and promises...and yet, the urge to talk to someone outside of this nightmare was strong, someone who knew nothing of the tragedy.
“Hello,” she said cautiously.
“Ali...where are you?”
She actually felt pleased to hear his voice and that was crazy after what they’d been through. “It doesn’t matter where I am... Why are you ringing me?”
“To say sorry...again,” he said. “Look, I know you don’t trust me and I don’t blame you, but I am still your husband... I know I hurt you and I don’t deserve any forgiveness but I love you, Ali. I want us to try again and I really mean it this time... Please, Ali, come home...to talk, that’s all, just talk.”
Her first instinct was to cut him off, but something stopped her. After all, if she was honest with herself she knew that she craved forgiveness herself for what she’d caused, and here he was asking her for forgiveness for the damage he’d done to their relationship. She’d be a hypocrite if she didn’t even listen to what he had to say. “I’ll think about it,” she promised.
“But where are you... You can tell me that at least?”
He sounded so genuine, so caring when she needed to feel cared for. “Jenny Brown’s Bay,” she told him, flicking off the phone.
Hearing Jake’s voice brought back so many memories. They’d been in love once...until she found out that he’d cheated on her, and then love had slowly trickled out of the window. She’d tried to make a go of it, really tried...until the next time. But he was right, he was still her husband, the man she’d promised to love for better or worse. A week ago she wouldn’t have given him the time of day but now her priorities were all over the place. Take her dad for instance. She’d wanted to find him for almost all of her life but when she’d finally gotten her wish it was too late. Perhaps if her mother had been more forgiving, Ali would have had him in her life for a whole lot longer. She wanted, needed, forgiveness herself so perhaps the first thing she should do was to learn to forgive...or at least to listen.
By the time the pale winter sunshine crept through her window on the morning of the fifth day after Bobby’s death, she’d made her decision. She wasn’t wanted in Jenny Brown’s Bay and she needed to get away, at least for a while. Going to see Jake and talk things through might help her focus on what she needed to do now. With trepidation she picked up her phone.
“Hello... Jake...?”
CHAPTER FIVE (#u0a6bef2c-0e68-58ee-903b-1368b42078b2)
ALI DUMPED HER bag by the door and looked around the cottage with a rush of regret. She’d come here with such a sense of purpose, hoping for a fresh start... Tears welled up but she pushed them aside; what right had she to cry when all she’d done was ruin the lives of the people who’d been so good to her. It had been Bobby’s kindness that had put her on this path in the first place and now, because of her, he was no longer here... That put a whole new unpleasant light on everything. It hurt too, to think that Bobby may have had feelings for her, as Ned implied. If it was true then she’d really let him down because she should have realized; maybe she’d just been naïve but that was no excuse either. So was that was why he’d acted so rashly then, jumping overboard without thinking it through to try and rescue her. The thought that it might be true made her heart feel like lead in her chest.
She’d told Jake she’d be back in Manchester by early evening but now she was second-thinking her decision. It felt as if she was running away...but from what? No one wanted her here and no one wanted to hear her apologies for something that could never be undone. But was trying to rake up the ashes of the past really the right move?
Sitting down heavily on a kitchen chair she tried to sort things out inside her head but all she could see was Tom’s face. What right did she have to even think about him? Their budding friendship had died along with Bobby. No, she decided, the right thing to do was to keep away from the Roberts family and leave them to grieve in peace. Having her around would just be a grim reminder.
She heard the front door creak open as she gathered up the things she needed to take with her. “Hello!” she called, nerves tingling.
“Are you going somewhere?” Seventeen-year-old Lily Roberts stood in the hallway; her cornflower blue eyes open wide with surprise. “You will be back for Bobby’s funeral though?”
“I...” began Ali. “Well.”
Lily smiled gently, stepping forward to take hold of her hand with the typical naiveté that Ali found so refreshing. She’d met the slightly “different” member of the Roberts family on the very first night she’d stayed at The Fisherman’s Inn, the pub and guest house Grace Roberts ran with help from the rest of the family, and they’d become friends at once. It was Tom who’d eventually explained why his sister was as she was.
Ali had been sitting in the bar with Tom, having one of the chats she had come to enjoy, when Lily, who lived and worked at home, approached to collect the glasses. “Are you going to fall in love with Tom?” she’d asked, looking at Ali with a childlike innocence.
Rather than being embarrassed or annoyed at his sister’s outspoken question as Ali had expected, Tom just smiled indulgently, reaching across to pat her arm. “Lily always says it as it is,” he said. “You’ll get used to it... She’s special, aren’t you, Lil.’”
“Special,” Lily repeated, her pretty face shining with delight, and Ali had thought in that moment that she did look special, kind of fey and otherworldly...like a fairy.
After she’d gone Tom went quiet, but then, as if suddenly coming to a decision, he put down his glass and looked Ali straight in the eye. “Lily’s birth was difficult—” he said slowly, twirling a beer mat between his thumb and forefinger “—because the cord was around her neck her brain was temporarily starved of oxygen. It left her...different from other girls; she’s beautiful and kind and incredibly caring but she’ll remain a child forever. We all have to look out for her.”
He’d looked up at her then, his dark eyes soft with emotion, and for Ali it had been a very special moment. She could see that looking out for Lily was a huge responsibility, always would be, but she also knew without a doubt that he’d never shirk it. When he said that his sister was special he meant it right from the heart. Tom Roberts, she’d decided then, was someone you knew you could always trust.
Seeing Lily here, at the cottage, was a painful reminder of that moment...of Tom. “Does anyone know where you are?” she asked.
Lily shrugged. “Ned was shouting so I just walked away. I don’t like it when people shout. Do you shout?”
“I guess everyone shouts when they get cross or frustrated but some people shout louder than others.”
“I don’t think it was your fault that Bobby got drowned anyway... Do you have any biscuits?”
Ali handed her the cookie jar, a cold hand clamping tightly around her heart. “Does everyone else think it was my fault?”
“Ned does, that’s why he was shouting.”
“And Tom...does he blame me, too?”
Lily shrugged, nibbling her cookie, totally unaware of just how much her answer meant. “Well I guess that everyone kind of blames you really because if you’d done as Tom told you and stayed out of the way then you wouldn’t have fallen overboard and Bobby wouldn’t have tried to save you.”
When Ali’s face fell, Lily smiled. “Don’t worry,” she said softly. “They know you didn’t mean it. Mum says it was just a tragic accident and we shouldn’t lay blame, so does Tom. It’s Bobby’s funeral soon—we’re going to sing him to heaven. Please come.”
“Oh Lily... I’m not sure that I’d be welcome.”
“Bobby would have wanted you there... He liked you a lot.”
For a moment Ali struggled to control a raw burst of emotion. “You really think so, Lily?” she eventually managed.
“I know so because he told me.”
“What...what did he tell you?”
Lily’s forehead puckered. “He told me not to say anything but I guess it doesn’t matter now.”
Reaching out, Ali took Lily’s small, smooth white hands in hers. “Tell me, Lily...please.”
“He said that he was falling in love with you but you didn’t love him back yet...and anyway you were already married... Are you really married?”
Ali nodded. “We’re having a break but...yes, I am still married.”
“So why aren’t you with your husband?”
At Lily’s question, so innocently asked, Ali faltered, struggling for words. She wanted to be as honest as Lily herself but what should she say? “We had some problems,” she eventually managed. “We are on a trial separation right now but we’re going to meet up soon, to talk, you know, about the future.”
“But you won’t go until after Bobby’s funeral?”
Lily’s earnest expression tugged at Ali’s heartstrings. “I...” she began. “I mean... I’m not sure. Ned definitely won’t want to see me there.”
Lily shrugged. “We’re all very sad... Mum says Ned is just lashing out... Please come.”
“Do you think Tom will want me to be there?” she couldn’t help asking.
Lily frowned. “I heard him say to Mum that he wished Bobby had never brought you here... But he did tell Ned that it was an accident and he mustn’t blame you, and that you probably felt bad enough already... So you’ll come?”
“I’ll think about it,” Ali promised. “Now you’d better get off home before someone comes to look for you. They’ll be worried.”
As she watched Lily head off down Cove Road Ali wondered if perhaps she should ring the pub, just in case they were looking for her. Before she could go and get her phone she saw Lily waving excitedly at someone. Tom—it was Tom. Lily pointed back toward the cottage, gesticulating wildly, and Tom followed her gaze. When, just for a fleeting moment their eyes met and held across the distance, Ali’s heart skipped a beat. If only they’d met in another time and place, she thought with a lurch of regret, how different things between them might have been.
* * *
LILY WAS SO pleased to see Tom. “Hi, Tom,” she called, flicking her blond braids back over her shoulders. “I’ve been to see Ali.”
Tom stopped in his tracks, looking toward the row of cottages. “But why would you do that, Lily?” he asked. “And you know you’re supposed to let us know where you’re going?”
“There’s Ali,” cried Lily, ignoring him. “Look, she’s over there, outside her cottage.”
Tom followed her gaze to where Ali stood watching them. She looked lost, he thought with a surge of guilt, and so alone. Perhaps he should have checked on her, just to make sure she was okay. When their eyes met across the distance a heavy sadness turned his limbs to lead. Should he go and talk to her?
No, he decided, it was just too complicated right now; he needed to stay strong for the family and being close to her might cloud his judgment. In fact it really would be easier for everyone if she just went back to where she came from... Deep down though, in his heart of hearts, he knew that he longed for her to stay.
“She’s going away soon,” Lily said, as if reading his mind. “I told her she had to stay for the funeral though.”
“Now why would you do that, Lil?” he asked. “You know Ned won’t want her there.”
“And you, do you want her there? Bobby would and you know it.”
“Oh Lily, life is not quite as simple as you think. We’d all be better off without her around.”
Lily stopped in her tracks, a flood of color turning her pale skin a creamy rose. “I wouldn’t...” she said. “And I don’t think you would either.”
“And where’s she going anyway? She’s taken the cottage for six months.”
“To see her husband I think, they’re having a...a trial...separation.”
“Well...that’s it then,” Tom said, turning determinedly on his heel. “She’s leaving anyway. Come on, let’s go home, everyone’s worried sick about you.”
* * *
WATCHING THEM WALK away together, brother and sister, so close, made Ali aware of just how lonely she was. The dad she’d found too late was gone, following her mother who’d died well over a year ago. So who did she have to care about her... Jake? He wanted to give their marriage another try, but look what he’d done to her before...and had he really changed? Did anyone really change? She’d told him she’d be there tonight but she just wasn’t ready yet.
Picking up her phone she scrolled down to his number, taking a deep breath. “Sorry Jake,” she told his voicemail. “I’m not going to be able to make it after all.”
He rang back almost immediately. “What is it, Ali? Why would you want to stay in that godforsaken spot anyway? I get that you wanted to get away but it’s time to come back to reality now. You’re my wife and we belong together.”
“No, Jake,” she said, sure now that she was doing the right thing. “We don’t belong together anymore, maybe we never did. We’re over—were over the moment you lied and cheated...”
The sound of him slamming down the phone confirmed her intention. Jake would never change.
CHAPTER SIX (#u0a6bef2c-0e68-58ee-903b-1368b42078b2)
TOM WOKE BEFORE 6:00 a.m. feeling like he hadn’t slept at all; sleep didn’t come easy, he realized, when you were burying your brother the following day. He lay in his bed listening to the muffled sounds; thumping, bumping and gurgling water; people getting ready for the day ahead. Seemingly no one had slept easy.
The whole family had stayed at home in the pub, just like the old days. Far from bringing them all together as a family, however, it had just seemed to scream out the fact that Bobby was no longer there. His mother had insisted that they eat together, as they’d always done when they were kids. She’d even set Bobby’s place at the table and that had been tough.
It was Lily who’d lightened the mood with her usual straightforwardness. “Bobby would have hated this,” she declared at the dinner table. “Tomorrow we are going to sing him goodbye and he wouldn’t want us to be sad...so come on, let’s sing now.”
And they had; all of them. They’d sat and sang some of the fishing songs Bobby loved, songs that were a part of the heritage Tom felt had turned against them. He’d found it hard to listen to the words for he couldn’t help but question everything about his existence right now. After they sang, though, they’d talked, really talked, about Bobby, sharing wonderful memories that really meant something; and it had brought a smile back to his mother’s face. She’d made them all promise there and then that tomorrow they would celebrate Bobby’s life and not grieve for his death.
It had seemed so easy a promise to make, but in the gray light of dawn, things felt much different. Still, tomorrow, Tom decided, despite his apprehension, he was going to go fishing again; hopefully Bobby would be with him in spirit and help him to sort out his head.
After a reluctantly eaten family breakfast cooked by his mum, Tom headed back to his cottage by the sea on the pretext that he needed to change; the truth was he needed some solitude to get a grip on things. His steps slowed as he walked past Number Three; was Ali home he wondered? He couldn’t see her car. Or had she already gone back to her husband. No matter, she was long gone from his life and that was a good thing...wasn’t it? It had to be, nothing more to it.
* * *
ALI WAS DRIVING through the village. She passed by so many people, some somberly dressed in black but others making a statement by wearing bright colors to celebrate Bobby’s life. She liked that, she decided, slowing down to let a group of young men in their fishing gear cross the road.
On a whim she pulled over near the village green and parked her car at the side of the road just down from the church. No matter what anyone thought, she decided, she needed to be here.
At eleven forty-five the gathered crowd began filing into the small stone country church. She got out of her car and joined them, slipping in at the very back, head down and hands trembling. A sob caught in her throat as she thought about Bobby, and then she remembered what Lily said. We’re going to sing him to heaven. Will you come?
“Yes, Lily,” she murmured. “I will come.”
“You all right dear?” asked the elderly woman on her right.
Ali nodded dumbly, guilt washing over her; she had no right to be there.
The woman placed a hand on her arm. “It’s good that you came,” she said, a smile lighting up her worn features. “Accidents happen all too often, especially in fishing, and retrospect is just a waste of time. Life’s too short for if-onlys... I should know that. Anyway, it’s brave of you to show your face.”
“Thanks,” Ali said. “I realize that everyone around here knows I was on the boat when it happened and I thought everyone would be against me...so your support really means a lot. I’m not brave though. I just had to come because I owe it to Bobby...to say goodbye.”
“Well I’m sure he appreciates it... In fact, who knows, perhaps he’s watching us right now.”
“Do you really believe that?” Ali asked.
Her question was drowned out by the ripple of music that announced the family’s arrival and the entire congregation peered around discreetly. Four members of Search and Rescue, including Ned, carried the gleaming oak coffin on their shoulders, and behind them, walking slowly, his gray head bowed, was Jed Roberts; his wife leaned heavily on his arm, her face pale and drawn.
It was Tom, though, who took Ali’s attention. He looked straight ahead, his jaw set and his eyes dark with emotion as he held on tightly to his sister’s arm. True to her word, determined to make it a celebration, Lily wore a beautiful pale blue dress and had flowers in her hair. Holding her slender form as tall as she could she walked determinedly next to Tom, swaying slightly; her delicate features held an ethereal quality, as if she were one of the angels in the stained-glass windows.
When the family group were almost at the front of the church, Lily turned and peered inquisitively around her. Her gaze fell on Ali and she gave her a dazzling smile of welcome.
“Now that little lass has the right idea,” murmured Ali’s companion. “She’s celebrating his life.”
A myriad of emotions flooded the church as the beautiful service unfolded, especially when Tom and Ned stood up together at the front and talked from the heart about Bobby, bringing him back to life with recollections of their childhood, growing up in Jenny Brown’s Bay. Their memories swung from moving moments to floods of hilarity. As the congregation laughed and cried as one, somehow it helped. The hymns and songs the family had chosen were beautiful, ranging from “All Things Bright and Beautiful” to one of Bobby’s favorites, a bawdy fishing song. Ali joined in with the others, singing her heart out, and felt somehow cleansed. Bobby wouldn’t lay blame; that was one thing she was sure of.
When the service drew to a close, a profound silence filled the church, just before the family slowly filed out after the coffin. Tom looked so regal in his dark suit, so strikingly handsome and so very, very sad that Ali longed to just go to him and offer...what? He looked up as he passed her and caught her eye, holding her gaze as if expecting to find something there. Emotion flickered in his dark eyes and her whole body trembled; she couldn’t stay here, in Jenny Brown’s Bay, even if she wanted to, for she’d be a constant reminder to the Robert’s family, a knife in their wound.
When she watched him walk by, tall and straight and so...honest, she felt lost and alone. Being close to Tom was unbearable, for if she was honest with herself she knew that she wanted way more from him than he could give, and she had no right to anything.
Straight to the point as usual Lily had asked her outright why, if she was still married, she wasn’t with the husband.
And she realized Lily was right. So perhaps it was she who was lacking. Maybe she just wasn’t the kind of woman who could ever maintain a real relationship. She should focus on her career now. That’s what she needed to do. Journalism had meant everything to her once, after all.
Then she’d met her dad again and realized just how important family really was and how empty her life had become. Even her marriage had been almost a convenience that fit in around both she and Jake’s careers; perhaps that was why it had gone so wrong. Meeting and getting to know her dad had made her realize what she’d missed, made her see that if only her mum had been less bitter things could have been so different. Now it was time for her to back track and rethink everything.
Walking slowly out of the church without looking back, she cut along the edge of the graveyard and headed toward her car, trying to think of anything other than Bobby and Tom and all the pain she’d caused.
As she opened the driver’s door she sensed someone behind her.
“Ali...” came Lily’s voice. “Don’t go.”
With a heavy sigh she turned to see Tom’s sister standing forlorn in her beautiful dress.
“Your singing was beautiful, Lily,” she said. “You did Bobby proud.”
Lily beamed at her. “Thank you. Please don’t go.”
Ali shook her head slowly. “I have to, Lily. I’m in the way here.”
“But you will come back?”
Ali gave her a hug, holding her close. “I’ll try, Lily, I really will try.”
CHAPTER SEVEN (#u0a6bef2c-0e68-58ee-903b-1368b42078b2)
TOM WASN’T SURE exactly why he felt so empty inside when he saw Lily saying goodbye to Ali. After everything that had happened he should be glad to see the back of her, angry even that she’d dared to stick around.
When Ali held out her arms, hugging Lily close, Tom let out a sigh. She was wrong for him for so many reasons, quite apart from the stark fact that she’d caused his brother’s death. Anyway, there was no place in his life for a relationship right now Bobby drowning at sea had substantiated that fact. A fisherman’s life was way too unreliable and dangerous to expect any woman to share it.
It was good that Ali was leaving. Being around her held way too many complications... So why then did he still feel a sense of loss? There was just something about her he supposed...the way she held her head...the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled, and her intensity. Never had he met a woman so resolute about what she wanted...like the way she’d insisted on joining their ill-fated fishing trip. Her warm brown eyes had flashed with streaks of flame when they’d had their disagreement about that. Oh how he wished now he’d tried harder to stop her.
There again, he decided, maybe things happened for a reason and that was just how it was meant to be... Fate, he supposed it was. Something deep inside him wished that fate would bring her back one day. Common sense told him to be glad she was leaving.
* * *
IT WAS STRANGE to be driving through the city again, thought Ali. Car horns honking, people scurrying by, pale distant faces. Life was just so different in the country, particularly by the sea where the rhythm of the tide seemed to take over everything.
The town hall clock began to chime, shaking her from her reverie, one...two...three...four...five. She’d booked a hotel for a few days, close to the city center and the offices of the paper where she worked...or used to. Being self-employed she’d traveled around a lot but The Times had given her most of her work and Jason, the editor and her longtime friend, had been only too pleased to have a meeting with her when she’d rung him earlier. Nosing her way through the traffic she eventually found a parking place and with a relieved sigh she pulled her bags out of the trunk, locked her car and headed for her hotel. It was good to be back in the city, she told herself determinedly as she unlocked the door of her room and collapsed on the bed; hopefully being so far from Jenny Brown’s Bay would help her see her situation more clearly.
She ordered sandwiches in her room for dinner and went to bed early hoping that at last she might be able to get a good night’s sleep. Beyond her window the flickering lights and bustling sounds of the street made that impossible. She tossed and turned, longing for the gentle swish of the sea or even the moaning cry of the wind.
Jenny Brown’s Bay did seem like a million miles away, distancing her from the horror she’d left behind there. But was this really the answer, she asked herself, the way to get past what had happened...or was she just hiding from it? One thing she did know was that she missed the peace and tranquility of her cottage...missed it with an aching loneliness.
Ali finally gave up on trying to sleep at around five thirty and quickly washed and dressed, heading out into the city. Homeless people were waking up in doorways and under bridges, getting ready to face another day of struggling to survive. When she’d lived in the city she hadn’t really taken much notice of the early morning activity, now she found it sobering.
A young lad with lank greasy hair and shadows under his eyes crept up to her, holding out his hand. “Give us a break miss,” he said, his voice thin and reedy.
Ali delved into her purse and pulled out a handful of notes. “Promise me you won’t spend it on drugs,” she said.
“Don’t do drugs,” responded the boy. “Thanks miss. This money’ll get me back home.”
Feeling good about helping him Ali headed back to the hotel to get ready for her meeting with Jason. Maybe things would look up, she decided, as she showered and changed; maybe this was a new start.
By ten thirty she was out in the street again, dressed in a smart navy suit and heels; her shoes tip-tapped along the pavement as she headed toward the café where she was meeting Jason for coffee and a chat. She felt businesslike and professional, just like she used to before her priorities changed.
She saw the boy as she hurried across the street when the lights switched. He was just a blur in the corner of her eye but it was definitely him, handing money to a shifty looking man who passed him something in return. When she looked back they’d gone but she knew it had been the homeless lad from early that morning.
Stopping in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the street she shuddered deep inside, her freshly restored confidence draining away. All she’d done with her misplaced sense of benevolence was to push the lad more quickly down the road to nowhere. Now he could buy his drugs and maybe even die in a gutter tonight...so perhaps she’d killed him, too.
Ali didn’t hear Jason calling her name until he was standing right in front of her, tall and solid and comfortably familiar; they went back a long way, she and Jason, both as work colleagues and friends. “Ali,” he cried. “You were miles away and you look as if you’ve seen a ghost... Come on, I’ll buy you that coffee and you can tell me all about it.”
Ali sipped her cappuccino slowly, still trying to process what she’d seen.
“So...” Jake asked. “Are you going to tell me what’s up or is this purely business?”
Putting down her cup she looked up at him, smiling. “Sorry...right now it was about me taking pity on a homeless boy this morning and giving him way too much money. I just saw him now though, down a side street, obviously buying drugs, and it sickened me... I thought I was helping but I’ve probably just made his situation worse. What if he ODs and it’s my fault?”
Jason laughed. “Oh Ali, you really have been out of the city for too long. You can’t help people like that. They’re on a road to destruction I’m afraid. I see it every day when I’m driving home.”
“But he’s someone’s son,” Ali cried. “And surely everyone deserves to have some help.”
“When you put it like that,” Jason responded. “I guess they do. Anyone’s kid can go down the wrong road I suppose... But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there, Ali. Look, we’re friends aren’t we? Tell me what’s been happening to you first and then we can discuss work.”
Ali shook her head slowly. The thought of unburdening herself to someone outside of the tragedy in Jenny Brown’s Bay was so tempting...and yet. “It’s my problem, Jason,” she said. “I’m here to see if you have any work for me...that’s all.”
Jason folded his arms across his chest, stroking his neat brown beard. “I have plenty of time today and as I just said...we can discuss work when we’ve talked about you. We go back a long way, Ali, why, you knew me before I was a hotshot editor.”
“Well you’re certainly that now,” Ali remarked, lightening the mood.
Jason grinned. “And proud of it, too. Anyway, back to you... I want to help and so would Laura if she was here. Look how you were there for us and the kids when our house got flooded, not to mention all the other times. I’m not taking no for an answer I’m afraid. I’ll go get us another coffee and then you can tell me all about it.”
By the time Jason came back with the coffees he’d obviously given his approach some thought. Sitting down opposite her he looked Ali in the eye.
“Why don’t you tell me about your dad first,” he suggested. “Last time I saw you you’d just met up with him again as I remember...”
“He died,” she blurted out and suddenly the floodgates opened. “Sorry...it’s all still a bit raw. He was ill when I found him you see...with cancer. He lived alone in a little fishing village in the northeast; he had friends to help him of course but no one close. We talked, a lot, about his life and why Mum left with me when I was small, but he didn’t bear a grudge. In fact he was sorry to hear that she’d died and he blamed himself for her leaving him all those years ago. I really got to know him in those last few weeks and I came to understand something of the fisherman’s passion for the sea—it’s a way of life, a vocation, I suppose, and it causes rifts in so many marriages. He loved it though to his dying day and he opened my eyes to the magnificence of the sea... That’s why I ended up at Jenny Brown’s Bay.”
“Jenny Brown’s Bay,” Jason repeated slowly. “Is that a fishing town then?”
Ali nodded. “It’s just a village really. I still have a cottage rented there. Jake and I split you see...”
“Well I’m not surprised at that,” Jason cut in. “Never did like the guy.”
“But you only ever met him a couple of times.”
“Two times too many then. You’re well rid of him.”
“I’ve come to realize that,” said Ali sadly. “Anyway, I was still cut up about my dad when Bobby, a student of Jake’s who I’d gotten to know, suggested I stay at his parents’ pub for a while. I’d decided to write an article on fishing, in memory of my dad. He thought I could do some research there.”
“And did you?”
“Oh yes,” she nodded eagerly, remembering. “I used to have long chats with Bobby’s brother Tom, he was passionate about fishing just like Dad... In fact all Bobby’s family were. And I talked to some of the old fishermen, too, they used to come to the pub in the evenings. I learned a lot from them...except perhaps about the danger.”
Jason leaned toward her, speaking in a gentle tone. “So what happened there?” he asked. “Obviously it was something traumatic...or is this all just about your dad?”
For a moment Ali went quiet. “In a way it’s about Dad,” she began, struggling to keep her voice steady. “But there’s more.”
Jason waited for her to go on, saying nothing.
“Bobby suggested I go on a night fishing trip with him and his brothers, you know, for my research. Tom was dead against it...they had a row. He said he wasn’t prepared to take a rookie on a night trip, especially a woman, as it was far too dangerous. You know me, I was furious and, bottom line, he gave in and said that although he didn’t approve, since his father, Jed, didn’t seem to mind, I could go along. After he’d agreed, in fact, he found me some waterproofs and gave me advice about the trip... I was so looking forward to it—it was important to my dad that I scatter his ashes in the sea.”
“And I’m guessing it went wrong,” Jason said.
Ali looked at him ashen-faced. “There was a storm, Bobby drowned and it was all my fault. I took a stupid risk, didn’t listen to orders. When I went overboard he jumped in to save me...”
He reached across to place a sympathetic hand on her arm. “Accidents happen, Ali...you can’t take all the blame.”
“I can this time,” she said quietly.
“You must have liked it there if you rented a cottage,” Jake said “You should go back...face your demons I suppose you could call it.”
Ali nodded. “I’ve thought about it. I was considering writing a book instead of just an article, and maybe make it about Bobby. I could still dedicate it to Dad, too.”
“It’s a lovely idea,” Jason agreed. “Tell you what, why don’t you come and stay with us for a couple of days. Laura would love to have a chat with you and the kids will cheer you up and bring you down to earth. Then you can decide whether to come to work at The Times or go back to your fishing village and write.”
“Deal,” Ali cried, holding out her hand to shake his. “And, Jason...”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
With a broad grin he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll ring Laura right now,” he said. “She’ll be over the moon...and, Ali...”
“Yes?”
“If you do decide to stay and work here for a while then you’re welcome to our spare room you know.”
“I might just take you up on that. It will give me time to get my head straight and let things settle down a bit before I go back to Jenny Brown’s Bay.”
“Or not?” Jason responded.
Ali shrugged. “Who knows.”
CHAPTER EIGHT (#u0a6bef2c-0e68-58ee-903b-1368b42078b2)
THE SEA WAS already rough when the boat set out across the bay in the crisp light of dawn. “Are you sure about this?” Ned called above the chugging of the engine.
Tom looked up at the rolling gray clouds; ice-cold spray splattered across his face and gulls screamed overhead as The Sea Hawk cut through the waves. “What do you think?” he responded, looking across at his brother.
“That we should have done it sooner.”
“Then let’s go fishing,” Tom cried, feeling more alive than he had since they set off on that fateful fishing trip. Deep down he’d been dreading going back out onto the water but now he realized he’d been wrong to delay it, for the ocean still felt like home, just as it always had before.
As if trying to make up for the tragedy it had caused, the sea was abundant with its offerings. When they got to the fishing ground both men worked hard and fast, hauling in cod after cod, delighting in the job they loved and exhilarated to be back out on the open waves.
It wasn’t until he started to steer the heavily stocked boat back toward Jenny Brown’s Bay that Tom’s mind rewound to that last fishing trip. He’d been on automatic since the accident, he could see that now, trying not to allow himself to think or feel, just getting on with what had to be done in the best way he could. Bobby’s death had aged his parents, to survive a son held a terrible guilt, he guessed, so it felt as if he had to step up and take responsibility for the whole family. A rush of sorrow dulled the triumph of today’s catch as his eyes fell on the rolling waves ahead; he’d been determined to stay strong for everyone but now, back in what felt like normality again, he felt suddenly drained.
“You okay, Tom?” Ned asked, peering at his older brother with concern.
Tom felt himself wilt and leaned forward over the wheel. “Just tired I guess.”
“Go and have a lie-down,” Ned urged, taking the wheel. “I can get this little lady home no problem.”
“You sure?” To Tom the idea of just letting go for a while seemed very appealing.
Ned grinned. “Hey... You can count on me. I’m with Search and Rescue you know.”
Stepping back Tom slapped him gratefully on the shoulder. “So you are. Have I ever told you how proud I am of that?”
Ned’s smile suddenly faded as memories kicked in. “Couldn’t save Bobby though could I?”
“Not your fault,” Tom insisted. “No one could have saved him.”
“She could—” Ned blurted out “—by staying away from us.”
For a moment Tom just looked at him, a rush of protectiveness for Ali bringing a heavy lump into his chest. “It was just circumstance, Ned...” he said slowly. “Fate. You can’t lay blame like that. I’m sure she’s as sorry about it as anyone.”
“Sorry she may be but she’s torn this family apart. And where is she now...back in her husband’s arms I’m guessing. Well I sure hope she’s not happy.”
“Bitterness only hurts the bearer,” Tom said quietly. “You have to let go of it, Ned, or it’ll tear you up.”
Ned’s knuckles turned white as he held on to the wheel. “I think I’m prepared to take that chance. Now you go below and get some rest before I change my mind...and, Tom?”
“Yes...”
“She’s nothing but trouble so stop defending her.”
Remembering the pain in Ali’s honey-brown eyes Tom was not so sure he could do that. Resisting the urge to say anything more, he just raised his hand; it didn’t really matter anyway because she was gone and he didn’t think there was much likelihood of her ever coming back.
* * *
ALI WAITED NERVOUSLY inside the busy pub where Jake had agreed to meet her. It was Laura who’d persuaded her to go. “You need to sort it out once and for all,” she insisted. “Tell him that it’s over and you want a divorce.”
Jason had backed her up. “Laura’s right you know, Ali. I’ve told you over and over that you need to put your life straight. You can’t move on until you’ve finished with the past.”
“But I’m not sure where I want to move on to,” she’d told them. “I love my work but obviously I can’t stay with you indefinitely... I mean, it’s been great and I really appreciate you having me but you don’t want a lodger forever...”
“You can stay as long as you like,” Laura had insisted. “Can’t she, Jason?”
“Of course,” he agreed, looking intently at Ali. “But I don’t think she really wants to.”
“Then what do you think I want, Jason?” Ali asked. “Because I sure don’t know... I mean, well, I’ve loved working with you these last few weeks but...”
“You need to go back to your cottage by the sea and sort your head out,” he told her with no hesitation.
“Yes,” agreed Laura. “Jason’s right. It’s obvious that Jenny Brown’s Bay is where your heart lies... There’s too much emotion there for you to switch it off without facing up to what happened, and it’s the only place where you’ll find out what you really do want from your life.”
“If money’s the problem you can do some work for the paper from there,” suggested Jason.
Feeling suddenly emotional at the generosity of her friends, Ali gulped back tears. “Sorry,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “And thanks, Jason, for that offer but, to be honest, my dad left enough funds for me to take some time out... That’s why I was going to write the article.”
“Then make it a book,” he urged. “For the young man who drowned and for all the other fishermen, too...like your dad.”
Ali went quiet, drawn by the suggestion but so unsure. “I’ve still got some work to do for the paper though.”
“Well finish that first then,” cut in Laura. “And anyway it’s only a few weeks to Christmas and we wouldn’t enjoy it if we thought you were all on your own. Stay with us for that at least, we insist, but then I do agree with Jake that you need to go back and face all that heartache and emotion you left behind, it’s the only way to get past it. You need to sort things out with Jake first though...”
“Thanks for the kind offer of Christmas.” Ali said. “I really appreciate it...and after that we’ll see. The trouble is that I’ve never actually written a book, what if its rubbish?”
“It won’t be,” Jason insisted. “Your writing’s first class—all you need to do is get all the information you can and then listen to your heart.”
Now, sitting in a bar sipping a glass of wine as she waited for her ex to appear, Ali thought about that conversation for what felt like the millionth time; since Jason and Laura had determinedly planted the idea in her head she’d become more and more drawn to the idea of writing a book for Bobby, her dad and all the other fishermen. Now, finally, the work she’d been doing for Jason was finished and on Laura’s strict orders she’d taken the plunge and rung Jake. Their marriage was over, she’d never been more sure of anything, and today she was going to tell him straight.
With Jason’s confidence in her journalistic competence buoying her, the idea of writing the book began to consume Ali; it felt like a need, a way to try and put things straight...or as straight as they could ever be. She’d even contacted Elsa May Malone Evans, the owner of her cottage, to arrange another six months’ lease so that she didn’t lose the option of going back to live there. Seeing Jake today felt like the last piece of the puzzle and she hoped that when it was slotted into place she would know what to do with her life.
She’d felt so certain about her meeting with Jake, but now that the moment was here, apprehension flooded over her. Whatever was she going to say to the man she’d lived with for almost three years, the man she’d sworn to love forever; that promise seemed like nonsense now, and she silently vowed to never give herself so wholeheartedly again. The failure of this marriage made a mockery of love and that was sad.
As she saw him appear along the street, however, dapper and stylish, sure of himself and full of self-confidence, her apprehension faded. How could she have ever believed that he was the man for her, she wondered, remembering Tom’s tough, quiet approach to a life that was driven by his passion for the sea? Putting Jake straight about ending their marriage no longer seemed like a problem, more just a means to an end.
He approached across the busy bar carrying a pint of beer and sat, giving her his best, well-practiced smile. “So,” he said, taking a gulp of the amber liquid. “You’ve finally seen sense.”
“Hello, Jake,” she said. “And yes, you’re right—I have come to my senses. I just came to meet you so that I could tell you face-to-face. I’m filing for divorce and I’ll be coming for the rest of my things tomorrow. Whatever we had is long gone, Jake. I wish you happiness and a successful future but it won’t be with me.”
CHAPTER NINE (#u0a6bef2c-0e68-58ee-903b-1368b42078b2)
BIT BY BIT in Jenny Brown’s Bay a slow healing began. Just two weeks after Tom and Ned braved the sea again Jed Roberts finally decided it was time he, too, faced his demons and went out with his two sons on a fishing trip. No one mentioned Bobby’s name as they headed out into the English Channel but in every one of the familiar tasks they undertook he was there.
It felt good, thought Tom, to feel Bobby’s presence around them without that first deep cut of agony. The pain of his loss would be with them forever but the happy memories of his young brother could only bring joy.
“He’ll always be with us won’t he,” Jed said, looking across at his sons as they made their way homeward.
“Sure will,” Tom agreed. “In fact he’s probably laughing at our long faces right now.”
“He’ll no doubt be bringing laughter to heaven,” Jed added.
“He should be here with us,” cut in Ned, his face dark with anger. “It should never have happened.”
“But it did,” Jed told him sadly. “And bitterness will only bring more pain. You have to let go, son, for your own peace of mind—even your mother is trying to move on and it’s cut her deeper than any of us.”
* * *
AS HER HUSBAND and two remaining sons began to rekindle their love affair with the sea and let go of their fears, back home Grace Roberts had finally persuaded herself that it was time to go through Bobby’s things and allow him to rest. Standing in the doorway to his room she fondly remembered how he’d always clung on to his childhood belongings, like Podge, the well-worn yellow bear who sat on a shelf with other keepsakes. His brothers had teased him about keeping Podge but Bobby hadn’t cared. In fact, Grace realized, life in general had rather slid right over him; nothing ever bothered Bobby much. It was a part of having older brothers she supposed, teasing him and trying to wind him up but always there as a backup when needed.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/eleanor-jones/a-home-for-her-baby/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.