Kate washed her face in the bathroom sink. Blinking, she blotted her face on a towel and peered at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were more green than blue in the half-light, her hair was scraped back from her face and her skin, washed clean of make-up, made her seem younger, despite the blurring of fatigue. She swayed as she gripped the edge of the porcelain sink and stared, seeing herself as a child again, when coming here had felt like stepping into a fairy-tale world.
She wondered what Ben was doing. Would she be replaced? They had parted on awkward, ambiguous terms, neither making any promises, despite the recent introduction to his parents and his casual mentions of marriage – too offhand to ever be considered a real proposal.
Kate wasn’t under any illusions about Ben. It had begun as physical desire, nothing more; then had morphed into something neither of them felt able to define. Lately it had felt like they were travelling down well-worn patterns, transforming the relationship into something serious by dint of time served and convenience. Kate was attractive, successful – both decorative and engaging on his arm at parties: the perfect wife for a city boy with old money and its accompanying reputation to uphold. And Ben was gorgeous, solicitous, good company. And rich.
But it probably wasn’t love, and Kate didn’t feel certain that Ben would wait six days for her, let alone six weeks, or six months, or however long she stayed away.
Ben had been unattainable when Kate snagged him; there was a certain thrill in the hunt and acquisition of such a man. And he lingered in her thoughts now, his slow, sexy smile reaching out to taunt and tease across oceans. She definitely still wanted him.
Her fingers itched to reach for her phone and check her email. If he has sent me a message it means he loves me, he is waiting for me. I will go home immediately, she decided.
But she was home already, so how could she?
Kate grimaced at herself in the mirror. Being here had reminded her of a more primal, urgent sort of love. With Dan she had felt the throes of schoolgirl infatuation; with Luke Ross she had fallen fast and hard.
She didn’t feel comfortable with the possibility that she was succumbing to the allure of marriage for money, for practicality – not wanting to struggle as she had all through her childhood. But did she really love Ben? She wasn’t sure.
Financial security and the promise of a certain kind of life were not good enough reasons.
Kate threw a robe over her vest and shorts and padded barefoot across the quiet hall to her bedroom. After closing the door softly behind her, she sat on the bed, curled her legs beneath her and reached for her iPhone, cursing her eagerness and the anticipatory flutter in her belly.
A message from Ben. Her fingers trembled and tripped over themselves, fumbling as the message was revealed. Kate, baby, I fucking miss you. B.
That was all. Kate hated pet names, especially baby, as well Ben knew. And was that really all he had to say to her? The man who had lavished her with champagne and diamonds and made her feel safe.
The message was inadequate and infuriating.
Ben’s world would continue without Kate in it: working hard and playing hard. He loved to bitch about how stressful his job was, but he wasn’t happy without the pressure. He needed to feel important; if there had been a major fault line running through their relationship, it was that Kate wasn’t needy enough for Ben’s liking. Too independent for his taste. He’d asked her not to leave, but now what had seemed like an entreaty felt more like a threat.
For the last year, being Ben’s girlfriend had consumed her. All of her friends had been under Ben’s spell, encouraging the match, and there had been no one – no Emily – to point out the hard truths: that Ben was arrogant, emotionally illiterate, egotistical. Of course he was hot, he could make her feel like the only person in his universe with just a glance. But he could charm anyone thus; he wouldn’t be pining for her, or drowning his sorrows alone. Ben would be indulging in a little gentle flirtation along with his martinis, despite his reluctant concession to long-distance love.
‘I won’t have much time to talk to you,’ he had warned.
Kate, her ire up, had answered smartly, ‘No change there, then.’ Their parting had not been the gushing, embracing, kissing airport spectacle she had envisaged. Ben had had an important meeting to go to and said a hasty goodbye in the cab and she had wandered disconsolately into the terminal alone.
Kate leaned over and set the phone on the bedside table. She welcomed the return of her natural cynicism; yes, he misses me in his bed, keeping his sheets warm.
Not a good enough reason either – sex. She slid deeper beneath the covers and faced the fact that their relationship had probably been doomed the moment she set foot on that plane. She turned on her side and closed her eyes, seeking oblivion, but she sensed that sleep, jet lag or no, was going to be a long time coming.
In the darkness the face she saw was not Ben’s, but an amalgam of two, long relegated to the very depths of her mind: Luke who had stolen her heart and broken it; and Dan, whose heart she had broken in turn.
*
The next morning, Kate stood before the contents of her suitcase, dressed in her underwear, and sighed. She had a suitcase full of beautiful clothes but none of them were right for Bluebell Bank. Designer labels, expensive fabrics – they were fine for New York, but here they seemed like artifice, reminding her of just how comprehensive a metamorphosis she had managed.
Standing clothes-less, homeless and directionless in front of her shell case – spilling its sophisticated contents onto the bed – Kate was caught between two homes, two identities.
She dug around in her case for the plainest thing she could find – a long white vest top – and tugged over her head. She picked up last night’s jeans and discarded them. Outside the sky was blue, with the promise of summer warmth. Kate opened the bedroom door and yelled for Em.
Emily emerged from her room down the hallway, clutching a bath towel to her chest. Wet corkscrew curls spiralled on her shoulders. She looked startled. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. I was just wondering if you have a pair of shorts I could borrow?’
Emily’s eyebrows shot upwards. ‘Me?’
‘Yes, it looks like it might be hot today and I didn’t bring any.’
Emily screwed up her face in doubt. ‘I guess.’ She whisked back into the bedroom and reappeared a few moments later with a pair of navy cargo shorts which she tossed to Kate. ‘They’re kind of plain but the only other kind I have are towelling ones and they only look right on the beach.’
Kate caught the shorts in one hand. She didn’t look at them. ‘They’re great.’
‘Right.’ Emily looked and sounded unconvinced, but her eyes sparked with inspiration as she leaned past Kate to peep into the bedroom, where Kate’s suitcase sat on the bed: a treasure chest spilling out riches. ‘I don’t suppose I could borrow something of yours, could I?’
Kate opened her mouth and swallowed her words just in time. She didn’t want to offend Emily, but ever since they had reached puberty they had been blessed with quite different body shapes. Emily seemed to wake one morning with ready-made curves, much to her dismay, and she was always a dress size – or two, depending on the strictness of the latest dieting regime – larger than Kate. But, as Kate was struggling to find a way to point this out, she looked at her friend anew and stifled her surprise. Noticed that Emily, clad only in her towel, had knobs of bone in place of rounded flesh. Her ribs popped out like bicycle spokes and her legs were too thin. Kate raised her eyes to Em’s face and saw for the first time the hollowness of her cheeks, the way the bones jutted and protruded around her eyes. Sadness and turmoil had stripped her of flesh, a diet not to be recommended and, honestly, it didn’t quite suit Emily. Kate thought she better suited her softness and curves. ‘Of course,’ she said softly. ‘Take whatever you want.’ She measured the new, slender Emily with a dressmaker’s eye. ‘Actually, I have a maxi-dress that would look great with your hair.’ She rummaged in her suitcase and produced the sundress, patterned teal and bronze in a bold flower print. She found a pair of sandals and handed these over too. ‘Put them on,’ she instructed. ‘Let me see you.’
Emily departed, smiling, with her loot. Kate stepped into the shorts and zipped them. They sat loose on her hips. She was vain enough to be glad that her last spray tan was holding, her long legs were still golden and smooth. She shoved her feet into a pair of red thongs – flip-flops, she reminded herself and the name sounded childlike and cheerful, evocative of half-baked summers, buckets and spades and cheap, plastic crab lines from the pocket money section of the newsagent.
She smiled to herself, loving the onomatopoeia of the word as she flipped and flopped around the room, brushing her hair and putting on the white-gold bangle Ben gave her for one birthday.
Emily looked good in the dress; she knew it and couldn’t help smiling. For once she carried herself with confidence, a self-assured tilt to her chin. She twirled, enjoying the diaphanous swirl of her skirt around her calves. The dress was soft and floaty, tight over the bust and flaring from the waist. Gold sandals peeped out from under the hem. ‘You look amazing,’ she said, only a little disgruntled that Kate had made an ugly pair of shorts look so good.
They linked arms and walked down the stairs together, following the clink of crockery that signalled a presence in the kitchen. Emily paused by the mirror in the hall to examine her reflection again, fiddling with her hair, and Kate proceeded into the kitchen alone.
She was tentative as she entered the room, not wanting to startle Lena, a little afraid that Lena might have forgotten her again. But it was not Lena she found in the kitchen, clattering crockery and making a messy breakfast, scraping a chair across the flagstones and banging down a bowl of cereal in a puddle of spilled milk. It was a young man – a boy, Kate realised, paying him closer inspection: a boy with the Cotton features and the eyes of a child she used to know, tucking into a breakfast of builder’s tea and Cheerios.
‘Noah!’ she exclaimed, genuinely shocked. Here was the physical evidence of her six-year absence. There was not such a huge difference in Emily between the ages of twenty-one and twenty-seven, and physically Dan had changed little; but between eleven and seventeen, one changed beyond recognition; as indeed Noah had – from boy to nearly man. He still had the lanky frame of a teenager, skinny in places, burgeoning with muscle in others. He wore the uniform of his generation: jeans riding low, T-shirt from Abercrombie & Fitch. He had the bed-head look of someone who didn’t really care about his appearance. His eyes were clear and bright, and his skin scrubbed and clean, with only a few pimples, a faint shadow where he had begun to shave, a crescent of fatigue smudged beneath each eye as if he hadn’t slept much; but he possessed the resilience of youth, and on him the look was endearing and boyish.
He looked up from his cereal. ‘Kate,’ he said with excited inflection. ‘Dan said you were here. I came over to see for myself.’ He glanced down at his bowl and gestured with his spoon. ‘And because I needed breakfast.’
‘Dan doesn’t feed you?’ Kate asked, pulling out a seat and sliding into it. She wanted to hug Noah, but she felt too awkward; for him it had been a long time. What memory did Noah have of her after all this time? Eleven was formative, hovering on the brink of teenagedom, with childhood memories lingering long.
‘It wasn’t the lack of breakfast,’ Noah explained, digging his spoon into the soggy mess of cereal. ‘It was the fact that Dan seemed to feel the best accompaniment to it was a morning lecture.’
Kate smiled. ‘Was it deserved, this lecture?’
Noah considered. He chewed and shrugged with easy grace. ‘Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I had to sit and listen to it.’
Kate filed away his response to think about later. There was something lost and fragile about Noah; she thought back to what Emily had told her about his expulsion, and Dan’s acerbic comments about him getting drunk with his mates. ‘Did you have a good time last night? You were out with friends, right?’
‘Yeah.’
‘So, did you have a good time?’
He shrugged again. ‘Yeah. You know. It’s really good to see you. We’re all glad you came.’
‘Oh?’ Kate was a little taken aback.
Noah nodded. ‘You’re here and everything is going to be different for Em.’
The kitchen door swung open and Emily entered. ‘Hey, Noah,’ she said, ruffling her brother’s hair as she walked past. Noah recoiled, scowling, as if this were a common annoyance. ‘What you up to?’ Her tone held a sing-song cadence that seemed to irk her brother.
‘What does it look like? Eating breakfast, talking to Kate.’
Emily gave him a measured look. ‘I mean, what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be working? Dan’s your boss, you know.’
‘Like I could ever forget.’ Noah pushed his cereal bowl to one side and stood. He went over to the kettle, filled it and put it on to boil again. ‘Tea?’ he offered, glancing over his shoulder. ‘I made Lena one. She’s already out in the garden with Bracken.’
‘Is she all right?’ Emily’s voice grew sharp.
‘Of course. Why wouldn’t she be? Tea?’ He turned away from his sister and aimed the question at Kate.
‘Sure. Thanks.’ Kate knew there was no point asking for coffee; this was Bluebell Bank, where no one could go longer than an hour without another cup of tea, and coffee was considered the devil’s own drink.
‘So,’ Emily persisted, again with the bright, enquiring lilt that seemed to so irritate her little brother. ‘Tell me why you’re not at work.’
‘Because if I’d had to spend another hour in Dan’s company we would have hurt each other. Abby doesn’t need the stress of that in her condition.’
Emily made an impatient, teacherish noise. ‘You really should make more effort with him. Like I said, he’s your boss. He pays your wages.’
‘That doesn’t give him the right to tell me what to do with my life.’
She frowned. ‘Actually it does. You do live under his roof and you’re only seventeen.’
Noah filled the mugs with boiling water. He crossed to the fridge and took out the milk carton. There was something deliberate about his movements. Kate watched them both, dismayed at the skin of tension that flexed and rippled between them. She cast around for something to say to ease the atmosphere.
‘If you’re not working today,’ she said, with sudden inspiration, ‘what are you doing?’
‘Getting over his hangover, probably,’ Emily said in a derisive tone.
Noah sighed and slammed Kate’s mug down on the table, tea slopping over the rim. He threw himself into his seat and resumed his breakfast. ‘I don’t have a hangover,’ he said, tight-lipped and sulky.
‘Don’t talk with your mouth full,’ Emily scolded, swatting him, smiling as if she really had no idea how annoying she was being.
Noah met Kate’s gaze with a resigned expression and something flared between them: an immediate kinship. Kate could sense his relief at having her here – someone to talk to who wasn’t a Cotton
‘Why do you ask?’ Noah addressed himself to Kate, ignoring Emily completely. ‘Did you have something in mind?’
‘Yes.’ Kate glanced briefly at Emily. ‘We could really use some help.’
‘We can manage,’ Emily said.
‘Emily, we can use his help.’ Kate looked reproachfully at Emily, her tone steely. ‘We’re going shopping,’ she told Noah. ‘We need to go and pick up wood for some shelves for the bookshop.’
Noah nodded. ‘I can help with that. And I can build shelves.’
‘So can we,’ Emily said tersely.
Kate looked at her. ‘Really? Can we?’
‘Well, we can figure it out,’ Emily qualified. ‘You can learn anything from the internet.’
‘Sure,’ Kate agreed. ‘But are we really going to turn down the help?’
‘I suppose it would keep him out of trouble,’ Emily mused.
Kate bridled at her admonishing tone, but Noah only rolled his eyes.
‘You know, if you’re buying wood you’re going to need better transport than Jasper. I’ve got a mate in the town owes me a favour. I can get us a van if you want.’
‘That sounds great. Can you drive it too?’
‘I’ve got my licence. I learned to drive on the farm. Of course, Dan never lends me his truck and since Emily appeared on the scene Jasper is always spoken for. But I’m a good driver.’
‘That’s a matter of opinion,’ put in Emily. She may have been trying for humour, but her sarcasm fell woefully short of the mark. Kate sighed as Noah set his jaw.
‘You don’t have to come,’ he said to Emily in a tight voice. ‘If you have other plans, Kate and I can manage.’
Emily frowned; she knew she had gone too far, but was loath to apologise. ‘Of course I don’t have other plans. I guess it would be good to have the use of a van, and if you want to come along that would be helpful.’ She was less than magnanimous.
‘We could use the muscle,’ Kate said, to make up for Emily’s waspishness, and Noah flushed with pleasure.
‘I’ll give my mate a call and I’ll meet you guys back here with the van in a while. Okay?’
‘That sounds perfect. Doesn’t it, Emily?’
Emily gave a non-committal grunt. ‘You need to check with Dan, make sure it’s all right. You can’t just leave him in the lurch. He’ll sack you.’
‘Like that would be a hardship,’ Noah said, and he disappeared out of the room before Emily could retort.
When Noah exited the kitchen, he left behind a tense silence. Emily wore a buttoned-up look that did little to encourage Kate in overtures of conversation; she sipped her mug of tea, picked up a newspaper – which, Kate noticed, was several days old – and began to read with great deliberation. She might have preferred a novel but, none being to hand, a newspaper would suffice; to Emily, reading anything was always preferable to not reading at all. Kate felt awkward, having observed the perplexing exchanges and felt the earth shift beneath her feet again – her Emily of old was warm, funny, loquacious: sometimes impulsive, often abrupt, but never unkind.
She watched Emily until she could bear the silence no longer and had to speak. They had been reunited not twenty-four hours – yesterday everything had seemed so exciting and strange, every moment budding with possibility. Now it was different, strained.
‘So,’ Kate said cautiously. ‘I think it will be good to have Noah’s help. And, of course, it will be nice for me to get to know him properly.’
Emily barely looked up from the pages of her newspaper. ‘Mmm.’
‘I thought you were a little hard on him before, to be honest.’
Emily’s head snapped up and she set aside the newspaper. ‘You don’t know,’ she said, not harshly, but it still stung. ‘I mean, he was expelled from school, Kate. And everything … everything’s just been such a mess.’ She ran a hand through her hair, working at its knots and tangles.
Kate knew Emily was not only talking about her brother. She nodded slowly. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘I suppose it must be tough for you all, Noah’s expulsion, and Lena … but everyone seems to be on Noah’s case. That’s just my opinion. As an outsider, observing.’ She held up her hands and surrendered with a small smile. She wasn’t here to upset the apple cart, unless it needed upsetting – perhaps that was her purpose after all.
Emily sighed with a long-suffering air. ‘You’re not an outsider,’ she said. She didn’t argue with the rest of Kate’s assessment ‘The thing is …’ She paused. ‘Look, it’s not my place to tell you about Noah. I hope he’ll tell you himself. Mum and Dad sent him to Dan to get him away from all the unpleasantness, but he won’t talk to any of us. He needs to talk to somebody, but it obviously isn’t going to be Dan or me. I think maybe it could be you.’
‘I hardly know him,’ Kate objected. ‘I haven’t seen him since he was a kid.’
‘Yes, but you and he had a bond.’ Emily looked bleak. ‘You know, sometimes I think you were a better sister to him than I was.’
Kate shook her head, exasperated. ‘No,’ she said. ‘You’re his sister. You just need to let up on him a bit.’
Emily didn’t say anything for a while. When she did, her voice was small. ‘Well, I was still hoping that you could speak to him.’
‘I will, if you think it will help. But only if Noah wants to talk to me.’
‘If you hear the full story, perhaps you’ll understand why Dan and I are so anxious about him.’ She stood quickly. ‘I’m going to see Lena,’ she said ‘To check on her before we leave.’
Kate was left alone in the kitchen with a mug of cooling tea she didn’t want, a pile of unwashed dishes surrounding her and the creeping knowledge that when she had clicked that link on the airline website to book her ticket, she really hadn’t had the first idea what she was getting herself into.
*
Half an hour later, Noah reappeared in a beat-up van. Kate was enjoying the pale gold of the morning sunshine and a moment of solitude, as she allowed the world to settle down a bit after her hasty hurtle across the Atlantic and the revelations of disquiet at Bluebell Bank; sitting on a bench outside Bluebell Bank in front of the gravel drive where Jasper was parked alongside her shiny rental car. The gravel gave way to grass – much too unruly to be called a lawn – which thickened and straggled as it merged into the edge of the wood, which in turn grew more dense as it sloped downwards towards the stream. To the other side lay the hill which, carpeted blue in spring, gave the house its name.
Noah lurched up the drive and crunched to a halt in front of her. He leaned out the open window, amid a blast of loud music, looking ridiculously pleased with himself. ‘Kate, are you ready? C’mon, let’s go. Where’s Em?’
Kate stood up with a languid stretch and a yawn ‘She’s still in the garden with Lena. Shall I go and get her?’
‘No need.’ Noah pressed his foot down and the engine revved throatily beneath the bonnet. ‘C’mon,’ he urged again, eager to begin what was something of an adventure to him.
Kate, not entirely devoid of adventuresome spirit this morning either, was looking forward to the trip too. She left her bench and went to open the passenger door, spotting Emily coming round the side of the house, latching the gate behind her. She scrunched across the gravel and got in the van without a word. Noah backed out of the drive and executed a rough turn with a spray of gravel.
Kate sat in the middle. On one side of her was Noah, eyes fixed on the road, on the other Emily stared out the window, her body angled away and a discouraging expression on her face. They drove for several minutes before anyone spoke, the thrumming bass of the music vibrating through Kate’s bones and the jerky lurching of the van’s suspension shoogling her.
Noah turned to Kate and yelled over the music, ‘So, where are we headed first?’
Kate glanced at Emily; this was her enterprise. When Emily didn’t reply, Kate leaned across to turn the music down. ‘I thought the nearest hardware store, wherever that is.’
‘I know a place. It’s not far. Do you think we could stop in town for a coffee before we get on the road?’ He slowed hopefully as they approached the turning for Wigtown.
Without turning her head, Emily said, ‘We don’t have time for that.’
Kate leaned forward, trying to catch Emily’s eye, but Emily wouldn’t look at her. ‘I guess we have time,’ she said mildly. ‘We’re not in a hurry, are we? I could definitely use a coffee. I’m sure you’d love one, Em.’ Teasing, trying to mollify her.
Kate could only see a sliver of Emily’s face but she glimpsed the glimmer of a grin. Emily turned. ‘Tea,’ she said with exaggerated patience. ‘I’d like tea. Obviously.’
‘Tea it is then. So we’ll stop?’
‘Actually.’ Emily’s sudden change in demeanour was like the sun emerging from behind cloud: welcome but bewildering. Kate felt she could barely keep up with this new mercurial Emily. ‘Actually, we have to stop by the shop. I forgot to measure up for shelves yesterday.’
Noah leaned forward to eye his sister askance as he slowed at a junction. ‘Seriously? You were going to buy wood for shelves with no idea how much you need?’
‘Yesterday was kind of an eventful day,’ Emily said. There was sarcasm, but no malice now. ‘You know: long lost best friend turns up out of the blue and announces she’s here for the summer and you forget to measure the shelves. A common error, I’m sure.’
Kate laughed aloud and the tension lifted. Emily’s words lingered. Here for the summer: a delightfully vague description of her future. The thought made her lurch between contentment and fear once more.
Noah continued teasing Emily, as delighted in her change of humour as Kate, as he made the turn and accelerated again. ‘Have you found this wonderful YouTube tutorial that’s going to teach you how to build these shelves with no measurements?’
‘We’re not completely inept,’ Emily answered, with a mock-severe glare. ‘We’re both highly skilled individuals.’
Noah smiled and slanted a look at her. ‘No,’ he agreed, ‘not completely inept.’
Kate leaned back in her seat and let the words flow around her – the teasing camaraderie felt good, much better than Emily’s snappishness. She closed her eyes, let the sound of their voices entwine with the music, the throb of the engine and thrum of tarmac meld into a melee that dulled her thoughts.
All these little faults, rips in the fabric of the place, doubts. And still, the overwhelming certainty that this was where she was supposed to be.