‘Sam, have you ever thought that maybe she’s only taking these exams to please you? Maybe that’s why she’s procrastinating. Maybe she doesn’t want to be a doctor. Maybe she wants to do something more creative. She does amazing work with textiles and she can embroider like a dream.’
‘Are you saying I don’t know my own daughter?’
‘No, of course not. But why not just talk to her? You keep blaming Toby, but maybe it’s not all his fault. Just communicate.’
Sam’s eyes cloud over. ‘Look who’s talking. You should have been honest about the hotel.’
Sophie bites her lip. ‘I know.’
‘Look, Sophie, I know we have to move with the times. There’s a lot of people out of work. The outports are dying. Kids moving out to the cities. But, you know, we’ve got something special here in this place. It’s harsh and it’s wild, and things like this …’ he waves towards the beach ‘… things like this happen sometimes. But it’s beautiful here. I’ve never been anywhere like it. I don’t want to see Tippy’s Tickle ruined by people who just want to exploit it for their own profit.’ Sam frowns. ‘I can’t support you. I’ll do everything I can to stop it.’
Sophie nods. ‘I guess that makes us enemies.’
‘Not enemies. Adversaries, maybe.’ Sam wipes a trail of salt water from his face with the back of his hand. ‘You need to figure out want you want, Sophie.’
‘I’m not the only one, Sam.’ She shivers as a gust of wind whips across the shore. ‘Do you remember when you dropped me off at the airport last time?’
‘I remember.’
‘I wanted … I wanted you to say something, do something, to make me think we might have a chance together. I wanted it more than anything.’
Sam stares at Sophie. ‘You could have fooled me. I thought you couldn’t wait to see the back of me.’
Sophie looks out at the boats bobbing in the waves. Her heart judders. She’d been an idiot. They both had. Now, it was too late.
Something catches her eye out in the water. Dorsal fins. But they were pointing in the wrong direction, skimming through the sea towards the shore. Two, four, five, then more of the sleek grey bodies of the whales plough through the waves towards the beach.
‘They’re swimming back! Oh, my God. Sam, they’re swimming back!’
The whales thrust themselves onto the beach, one after the other, churning up the sand with their flippers and their flukes as they attempt to swim forwards in a waterless ocean.
***
That evening, later than planned, after the marine biologists of the whale release group have confirmed the deaths of one hundred and thirty-seven female pilot whales on the beach at Tippy’s Tickle, the villagers reconvene in Florie’s store. The mood is sombre, the vote unanimous.
***
‘Sam? There you are.’
Sam turns away from the view of the beach below Bufflehead Cottage. ‘Ellie?’
She joins him out on the deck of the cottage, sipping from a World’s Greatest Dad mug. ‘I made myself a cup of tea. I hope you don’t mind.’
Sam chuckles. ‘Not at all. Mi casa es tu casa.’
‘I came to see how Becca is doing. I know she’s been very upset about Sophie and this hotel.’
‘Yes. She’s not the only one.’ He takes a drink from the bottle of Blue Star beer he’s holding. He looks over at his mother-in-law. The breeze catches her fine white hair and blows it around her face. She brushes it out of her eyes with a thin hand. She’d lost weight. She seemed … smaller. When had that happened?
‘She’s gone off with Toby again.’
‘Florie said he was a great help out there today.’
Sam nods. ‘Yes, he was.’
‘She said Sophie was too. She said that Sophie was even working with Becca to pull the whales out into the water.’
‘Yeah. That’s true, too.’
‘Sam, it’s none of my business …’
He smiles. ‘But …’
‘You know, I remember when you arrived here with Becca thirteen years ago. It was a terrible time. Such a shock for all of us.’
‘Yes.’
‘I’d spent days over in the cemetery, talking to Winny. Telling her not to be afraid. Telling her you and Becca ould be fine.’
Sam sucks in a ragged breath. ‘I didn’t know that. I couldn’t— I couldn’t go there. I was a mess. I barely remember anything about that time. I’m glad you were there to pick up the pieces, Ellie.’
‘For years I’d visit Winny every day. Every day, Sam. Without fail.’
Sam nods.
‘Then, three years ago, on her birthday, I went to the cemetery, and, instead of walking to her grave, I sat on the bench. You know the one. Near the gate. With the view over the ocean.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘I sat there and I said goodbye to my precious girl. I told her she’d always be in my heart. And anytime I wanted to see her, I’d just close my eyes and she’d be there. Laughing. Happy. My lovely Winny.’ Ellie takes a sip of the tea and cups the mug in her hands. ‘I didn’t visit her grave that day. I just sat on the bench and listened to the birds and the waves. I felt a release. She was with Thomas and it was … okay.
‘I only go twice a year now. On her birthday and on Thomas’s. And, it’s okay. They understand, Sam. They’re in us. They’ll always be a part of us. But it’s right to say goodbye. Otherwise, we lose ourselves. Unable to move forward, nor step backward. We’re here to move forward, Sam. Believe me, Winny understands. Winny wants you to.’
***
He finds her standing by the tickle, her slight figure wrapped up in several of Florie’s jumpers. He watches her as she looks up at the waning moon revealing itself from behind a bank of thick grey clouds.
‘Sophie.’ I know what it feels like, Princess Grace. To be ostracised. To be reviled. To be misunderstood.
Sophie turns. ‘Sam?’
He walks towards her.
‘What are you doing here, Sam? I thought—’
Then she is in his arms, and it is like all their
