Chapter 36
On Thursday, my last day in Cornwall, we skip work so that Charlie can take April and me back to Lansallos in search of sea glass. He offered to show me another cove, but I wanted to see this beach one more time. While he climbs up onto the rocks to take a closer look at the shimmering colours that I saw the first time we came here, April and I walk barefoot along the shore, getting our toes wet in the cold, clear, light-blue water. I clutch her hands, even though she’s growing steadier on her feet every day. The truth is, I just don’t want to let her go.
That evening, Pat and Adam join us for one last pizza night.
‘Good luck with the rest of your writing,’ Pat says to me kindly, when we’re saying our goodbyes. She’s dropping Adam back to Bude on her way home.
‘Thank you,’ I reply sincerely.
‘I can’t wait to read it.’ She smiles warmly and gives me a hug. When she withdraws, I turn to Adam.
‘Bridget,’ he says fondly, opening his arms wide. I grin and step forward and he proceeds to squash the breath out of me.
‘Argh!’ I gasp, but he just squeezes me tighter and rocks me back and forth for a while before letting me go.
‘How was that?’ he asks meaningfully as I overegg my efforts to reclaim oxygen into my lungs.
‘I’m not sure what you want me to say.’ I regard him warily.
He leans forward and whispers into my ear, ‘Was it better than sex?’
I burst out laughing and give his shoulder a shove. He’s referring to the night we went out in Padstow when I said I missed hugs more than sex. He was unimpressed at the time.
‘What did you say to her?’ Pat asks her younger son impudently.
‘I’m sure you don’t want to know, Mum,’ Charlie interjects as Adam continues to grin like a loon.
Pat tuts and rolls her eyes. ‘You’re right, I probably don’t.’
After we’ve waved them off, I turn to Charlie. ‘Will you stick around for a bit?’
‘I can stay pretty late, but I need to get home.’ He sounds reluctant.
‘Could we put April to sleep in the van so you don’t have to rush off?’ I raise my eyebrows at him hopefully.
‘Okay,’ he agrees with a nod.
He lets me settle her. I lie on my side, facing her, and sing her to sleep, gently stroking her light-blonde curls until her slowly blinking eyes become so heavy-lidded that they close and stay closed. A lump forms in my throat as I stare at her.
Later, we find ourselves back up on the hill to watch my final Cornish sunset. It’s the end of September now and the leaves on the trees are already beginning to turn.
I can’t believe I’ve been here for two whole months.
Charlie and I have both been downcast this week. I think he wants me to leave as much as I want to go, which is not much at all.
I am looking forward to sleeping in my own bed and cooking in a proper kitchen and using a toilet that is situated just metres away, but I’m nowhere near breaking point.
I’d stay another month if I could, maybe longer. But there are things I need to do back in London. I’m going to have to force myself to pay Vince a visit so I can write up my next blog entry.
‘You should go out with Edward, Jocelyn’s husband, after I’ve gone,’ I say to Charlie. ‘I thought he seemed nice at April’s party.’
‘He’s pretty quiet.’
‘I know,’ I reply with a smile. ‘But maybe he’s shy. Jocelyn is so warm and friendly – he might have hidden depths. Perhaps he needs a baby pal as much as you do.’
He laughs under his breath. ‘You really think I’m lacking in company?’
‘You will be once I leave,’ I joke, but it’s not short of the truth.
We sit in silence for a while, but it’s comfortable.
‘I wish you could come to Thailand,’ I murmur. ‘It’s so sad that you and April have never been, considering Nicki loved it so much. Is there really no way you could make it work? Would Alain help with your flights?’
‘He hasn’t offered. I couldn’t ask,’ he replies in a low voice. ‘We’re just not in a position right now to be able to blow a grand or whatever on flights, however tempting it is. I don’t know what’s around the corner. I’ve got a fair few projects coming in at the moment, but they could all dry up. There are no guarantees. I can’t risk it.’
‘Fair enough,’ I reply glumly.
‘I was thinking, though. . .’
Something in his tone prompts me to look at him.
‘I don’t want you to go and see Vince on your own.’
My shoulders slump. Vince is the last thing I want to talk about.
‘I could come to London next weekend and go with you.’
When I don’t say anything, he turns his head to look at me. Staring into his green-gold-brown eyes, I get an intensely restless feeling deep in my stomach. It’s almost uncomfortable, but I don’t want to look away.
Elliot pops into my mind and I jolt, coming to my senses.
‘I can’t believe you would do that for me,’ I mumble, my face flushing as I turn to pull up a handful of grass.
‘Of course I would – we’re friends,’ he replies. ‘So is that a yes?’
‘Yes,’ I say quietly. ‘I’m glad tonight isn’t goodbye.’
‘Tonight isn’t goodbye, anyway. We’re coming to see you off tomorrow morning.’
‘Are you?’ It feels safe to look at him again.
‘Yeah, I need my tent and outdoor table back.’
I bump against his side, smiling. We both know he could get them back from Justin and Julia at any point.
‘Tomorrow wouldn’t have been goodbye, anyway,’ he says seriously. ‘We’re staying in touch, right?’
‘Definitely,’ I reply.
But it won’t be the same. It will never be the same. A few days here, a week there. . . I’ll never have an excuse to come and stay for eight weeks of summer again. And, who knows, maybe I’ll be living in Australia by next year?
The thought hurts.
That doesn’t bode well for the future. For now, I bank my reaction to the idea of moving, but I know full well that it’s something I’m going to have to come back to.
Later, we make our way down the hill.
‘Do you have to take April home? Can’t she stay with me? Can’t you just kip over?’ I ask the three questions in quick succession, not giving him a chance to reply.
‘There’s something I need to do.’ He answers my third question first.
‘That sounds cryptic.’ He doesn’t want to elaborate so I don’t force the issue. He had to mysteriously nip into Polperro on our way home, too – April and I waited in the pickup while he went to get whatever it was he needed.
‘April can stay with you if you want her to,’ he says.
‘Really?’ My eyes light up.
‘I can come back early in the morning to help you get packed up.’
‘Are you worried about me taking down your tent wrong?’ I tease.
‘No, I’m worried about you,’ he says categorically, wrapping one arm around my shoulder and giving me a squeeze. I really don’t want him to let me go.
The next morning, I wake before April. Dad told me to set off early if I didn’t want to get caught in London’s Friday rush hour – in fact, he said I should drive through the night if I really wanted an easy journey – but I can’t quite bring myself to get up and start quietly packing my things away.
I lie there for a long time, staring at April’s little face, so peaceful in sleep. I watch the gentle rise and fall of her ribcage and want to place my hand over her heart, but I’m too scared about disturbing her. I’m going to struggle to leave her today.
I’m going to struggle to leave Charlie, too.
When I’m finally packed up and ready to go, I stand facing Charlie with April in his arms. There’s an ugly yellow patch of grass from where his tent has been standing, stagnant, for the last six weeks or so. When I drive away, I’ll leave behind a Hermie-shaped patch, too. I tell Charlie that he can come back and look at it if he ever misses me, but my comment barely raises a smile.
‘Thank you,’ he whispers, wrapping one arm around me and pulling me in for a three-way hug with him and his daughter. ‘You’ve done more for us than you know.’
‘Stop,’ I say, because I don’t want to cry. ‘I’ll see you next weekend, right?’
‘We’ll be there,’ he promises.
I give them both one last hug before climbing into the van. Charlie motions for me to put the window down.
‘This is just something small. Open it when you’re home.’ He passes me a tiny parcel, gift-wrapped with the same paper he used for April’s birthday presents.
‘Can’t I open it now?’ I ask with a smile.
‘No.’ He shakes his head with determination and his cheeks brighten.
I’m intrigued.
‘Bye, Charlie,’ I say sadly. ‘Bye, Chipmunk.’ I wave at April. ‘I’ll miss you.’
She holds her hands out to me, but Charlie steps back from the car and her face falls. I swallow back the lump in my throat and try to get Hermie into gear before I lose it.
I don’t make it far. Pulling up outside the big supermarket along the road, I take a deep breath and attempt to gather myself together. I glance at the present Charlie gave me. As if I’m going to wait. . .
As soon as I open it, I see what he had to go home for. He’s drilled tiny holes into three of the pieces of sea glass we found yesterday – green, brown and yellow – and threaded them onto a long, silver chain that I’m guessing he picked up from a shop in Polperro. He’s made me a sea-glass necklace. I burst into tears.