Rose had holidayed every year. It had been neither an easy, nor a difficult decision to make because it had not been a decision in the formal sense. I had never been to Priac Bay – I distrusted the idea of it. ‘For God’s sake,’ I had protested to Paige in the past, when Nathan had brought up the subject of going there. ‘It was where he took his first family.’
Paige had been suitably shocked. ‘Is he stupid? Or very limited in the imagination department?’
Yet I knew I had to take the boys and myself to a place where Nathan had been happy, so I had got on the phone and arranged it.
It was raining, a light spume, when three hundred or so murderous miles later the car jolted down the unmade road that led to the cottage. Stupefied and bored, Felix and Lucas were silent in the back.
The world was drenched. The horizon was wiped out by mist, and the sea roared with white crests. The slate tiles on the roof gleamed, there were damp patches sprouting on the grey walls and the plants in the garden dripped.
Eve drew the sleeves of her jersey further down her wrists. ‘It’s cold, Minty.’
I, too, was cold, with apprehension and worry. We felt worse when we discovered that two of the bedrooms were damp, the plumbing questionable and the nearest shops several miles away. Eve and I did our best. We made beds, unpacked, stacked the buckets and spades by the front door. We ate a scratch supper of beans and fried eggs, watched rain sweep across the grey sea and listened to the gulls.
‘Daddy came here,’ I told the boys. ‘Lots. For his holidays.’
‘Daddy,’ said Felix, and his blue eyes darkened. ‘Daddy.’
After a moment, Lucas asked, ‘Am I sitting in Daddy’s chair?’
‘It’s possible. It looks as though it’s been here for a long time.’
Eve chased a bean round her plate.
In the morning Eve and I led the boys down the steep path to the tiny beach. After the rain, the mud was as sticky as toffee, and the boys squealed with joy. As we slid and slithered down, moisture from the thick clumps of vegetation seeped into our clothes. The air was heavy with salt. The leaves and branches as we brushed past smelt of it and left its residue on our lips.
Down on the beach, the tide was retreating, leaving dark patches on the stones. Gulls screamed overhead. The boys ran madly up and down, calling to each other. I sat on a rock and watched them.
My feet were wet and, under my jacket, I was shivering almost uncontrollably. Nathan had loved this place. That much I knew, but little else. I had never asked why, or which was his favourite spot, the best bay to swim. I had been silent. Metaphorically, I had turned my back. ‘You know, Minty, you don’t know me very well at all,’ he had once accused me.
If only I had taken the time to answer him. If only I had sat down, there and then, and said, ‘Let’s talk, Nathan.
To find myself, so ordinarily materialistic and without grace, at the mercy of such pain, impotence and ugliness was bewildering – it was like being dashed this way and that in a tide as strong as the one peeling back the water from the sand.
Eve beckoned to Felix. ‘Felix, come. There is something here.’ They huddled together and inspected an object in the sand.
Lucas circled them. He was cross and sang very loudly, ‘Look at me. Look at me.’
Long ago in the Vistemax office, before the sea-change had taken place in me, I had told Rose, ‘I don’t have a family. Who wants one? I don’t have children. Why hang a millstone round your neck?’ Now I had a family, and the intolerable weight of the millstone tugged and pulled at every bone and muscle.
‘Mum!’ White legs flashing under his green shorts, hair pushed off his forehead by the wind, Felix came over the shingle towards me with a goosefleshed arm outstretched. ‘See what I’ve got.’
He unclasped his hand to reveal a perfect mermaid’s purse.
After lunch of bread and cheese, the boys were chased upstairs and put to bed for a rest. I left Eve grimly washing up and complaining of the lack of hot water, got into the car and went to find provisions.
The nearest supermarket was on the outskirts of Penzance. It was busy and noisy. This was the beginning (as Paige would have it) of the new economy, a different fiscal regime. I chose cut-price jam and chicken breasts, the least expensive butter, and every own-brand that I could bear to buy.
I drove away, slightly nauseous. The wind had dropped, and warmth from the sun had crept into the still air. The sea had turned into a gentle wash. It was a beautiful day, and out at sea, boats of all sizes were scudding across the water.
When I got back, Eve had taken the boys down to the beach, and I could hear their shouts. I unpacked slowly and awkwardly, unable to shake
In the end, I snatched up my jacket and went outside. The coastal path passed directly in front of the cottage, and I headed towards the point. After a while, I increased my pace until I was almost running, my feet bouncing over the turf and stones. The sun was blinding, and the sea, shallow near the cliffs, a transparent turquoise. The seabirds wheeled and dived noisily to the rocks. As I rounded a corner, the wind hit me and I slithered to a halt.
I smelt sea and turf and the freshness of the air. I faced the bay, where water, rock and vegetation shimmered, a mysterious and beautiful trinity. I knew that Nathan had been there. Maybe he had stood exactly where I was now and my feet were planted in the ghostly imprint of his.
I stood and listened to the unfamiliar music made by the wind and the waves. Its chords beat in my ears and, unwillingly, suspiciously, then with relief, I gave myself up to its sensations.
I knew then why Nathan had come to Priac Bay. Why he had loved it so.
A week later, we returned to Lakey Street late in the evening, almost speechless and dirty from the journey, and fell into bed.
I woke to find Lucas on my bed, wrapped in his duvet, which he must have dragged in. Reluctantly, I focused. ‘Hello, sweetie. How long have you been there?’
‘Ages and ages.’ His treble voice piped in the silence. ‘Why didn’t you wake up, Mummy?’
‘Because I was tired.’
‘I wanted you to wake up.’
I knew Lucas was trying to ask me something, but I was unsure what it was. ‘You’d better come in.’ I lifted up the edge of the duvet and Lucas, importing the morning chill, climbed in. He snuggled into me, and I smelt sand, salt and seaweed.
I waited.
‘Do you think Daddy can see us?’ His voice wavered.
I squinted down at him. He stared back, trying so hard to be composed. ‘Probably.’ Then I collected my wits. He wanted certainties. ‘Yes,’ I said.
‘I can’t see him.’ His fair, rather stubby eyebrows twitched into the frown that was becoming habitual.
I stroked the skin between his eyes until the frown was smoothed away. ‘We have to believe he’s there.’
Lucas edged closer to me, and I slipped my arm round him. ‘Daddy was nice, wasn’t he?’
‘Very’
‘Millie says her daddy is bad. He went away too. Daddies shouldn’t go away.’
‘Sometimes they can’t help it, Lukey.’
Lucas considered. ‘Millie’s daddy said he couldn’t help it.’
I pulled Lucas as close as I possibly could. ‘Lukey, you must listen to what I say. Millie’s daddy is different from yours. Yours would never have left you unless… unless he had no choice.’
I was thankful that neither Poppy nor Sam could hear me.
‘Will I get a new daddy?’ Lucas asked.
I spooned my body round him. He was tense, and there was a lick of sweat by his hairline. Every one of his bones was so fragile, and I was shaken by terror for his safety. ‘No, sweetie-pie. You only have one daddy.’
Outside the bedroom, the sun made an appearance. Fastened on to me, Lucas relaxed, his breathing slowed and he tumbled into one of those instant childish sleeps.
Cautiously, I eased myself out of bed and went into the boys’ room to check on Felix. He wasn’t there.
