Oh, God. Her stomach flutters and she takes a breath to calm her nerves. No man she’d met in the past ten years had stood a chance. She’d measured them all against Sam. Every single one of them had come up short. So, why hadn’t she done anything about it? She should have returned his calls, but there didn’t seem to be any point. She could have visited. People have long-distance relationships all the time. She’d thought Sam would just fade away. But he never did. Bloody hell, Sophie, you’ve been sleeping for ten years.
He sets a plastic Foodland bag on the counter beside the sign advertising hot chocolate for a toonie. Folding his arms, he leans against the counter. The stubble is flecked with grey, now, and threads of silver pepper his black hair. His brown eyes sweep over Sophie.
‘It’s anyone not from around here. You’re a CFA until you get Screeched in.’
‘Screeched in?’
Ellie grabs Sophie’s arm and leads her towards the battered wooden table and mismatched chairs in front of the bay window. ‘It’s a silly thing they started doing in St John’s some years ago for the tourists. It’s a bit of fun, really.’
‘Well, I don’t know about that, Ellie girl,’ Florie says, wrinkling her nose. ‘Kissin’ a cod! Whoever heard of such a thing? Eatin’ them, yes. Kissin’ them, not on your life.’
‘You’ll find out soon enough for yourself, Sophie. It’s my eighty-ninth birthday on Friday and I’m having a party. We’ll have a Screech-in then.’ Ellie sits down in an old wooden chair painted purple. A web of lines fans out from the corners of her eyes as she smiles at Sam. ‘You can play the Ugly Stick this time, Sam.’
‘That’ll be the day, Ellie.’
Sophie sits beside Ellie at the table, which is covered with stacks of art cards and jars of watery paints. ‘Where’s Becca? I have a surprise for her.’
‘She went off with Toby Molloy after lunch,’ Florie says as she peeks into the Foodland bag. ‘Said they were goin’ to check out the iceberg over by Seal Point. Don’t usually see them this time of year, but they’re coming around more often now. Breakin’ off from the glaciers up in Greenland. Said she’d bring back some ice to make some ice cream with. Betcha that’d cost a bomb in New York, wouldn’t it, Sophie? Imagine eatin’ iceberg ice cream in Central Park. Purest ice cream you’d ever hope to eat.’
Sam sits on a red-painted chair, leaning back until it tilts precariously against the wall. ‘I hope he knows what he’s doing. It’s choppy out there today. She should be studying for her university entrance exams.’
‘Oh, Sam, don’t be an old fuddy-duddy. They’re eighteen,’ Ellie says. ‘They’re young. Let them enjoy themselves.’
‘That’s just what I’m worried about.’
‘Toby’s a responsible boy, and Becca’s always been a good student here at home,’ Ellie says. ‘She’ll do fine on those tests, though I’m still surprised she wants to go to medical school. She’s such an artistic girl. And the clothes she makes!’ Ellie holds up an embroidered purple sleeve. ‘Just look at that embroidery, Sophie. It’s beautiful.’
Sam tips the legs of the chair back onto the wooden floor. ‘It’s hard to pay bills with art, Ellie. You know that for a fact. Being a doctor will give her some security.’
Florie sets the icing bowl on the table and pulls up a blue chair. ‘Honestly, these universities all seems to think home-schooled kids are a bunch of illiterate streels. Makin’ her sit these tests when she should be enjoyin’ her youth, it’s a sin.’
Sam sweeps his finger along the edge of Florie’s bowl and licks the icing. ‘From what I can see, Toby’s just been hanging around on unemployment insurance doing not much of anything all summer since the plant closed. Nothing except getting under my feet in the store. He’ll be off to the Alberta oil fields like all the others before you know it, and that’ll break Becca’s heart.’
He gets up and heads towards the door, grabbing a bag of hard tack bread off the counter on his way out. ‘I don’t like Becca wasting her time with him.’
‘Ellie’s right, b’y. You’re soundin’ like a right old fogey,’ Florie says as she dips her finger into the icing bowl. ‘You comin’ for supper? I’m makin’ Jiggs dinner.’ Sticking her finger in her mouth, she sucks off the sweet icing.
‘Yes, come, Sam,’ Ellie says as she collects the shopping bag and hands it to Florie. ‘We’re giving Sophie a proper Newfoundland welcome.’
Sam glances at Sophie. ‘Don’t see why you’re going to so much trouble. She’ll be off and gone for another ten years soon enough.’
Sophie glances from Sam to Ellie and back. ‘I’m sorry. My job is so busy … Time just flew.’
Sam nods at Sophie as he stands with his hand on the screen door. ‘Too busy to return a phone call? Last I heard they still had phones in New York.’
The door slams shut behind him, rousing Bear from a doze in front of the cash till. The dog lumbers to his feet. He lopes past the three women, his shiny black coat of hair swishing in the air, and pushes out through the screen door after Sam.
Chapter 50
Tippy’s Tickle – 12 February 1946
Ellie leans over the child, who is asleep on the seat opposite them, and tucks the white blanket she’d spent the winter so carefully crocheting snugly around Emmett’s sleeping face. She brushes his soft cheek lightly with her fingertip. Such a good boy. He’d barely made a squeak the five days the Mauritania had spent climbing and plunging over the angry Atlantic waves. When he was awake he’d sit on her lap and survey the chaotic goings-on with an expression of world-weary resignation. ‘’E’s
