48
Maggie was halfway to the shop when she was intercepted by Gerry.
“Ah, good, glad I caught you. Don’t suppose you’ve tuned in to Bird Brother today, have you?”
“To be honest, Gerry, I really haven’t had the time.”
“No, quite right, that’s what I thought. Thing is, I was just going back over last night’s footage—there’s a lot of activity at night—and I came across something that I think you ought to see.”
Gerry pulled out his iPad and angled it toward her. Intrigued, she leaned in. The clock at the bottom of the screen read 5:52 a.m. The picture was grainy, but she could make out the outlines of the trees and the decorations gently swinging in the breeze. A mouse scurried along a branch and out of sight. There was a rustling somewhere out of the camera’s range and then a face came into view. It was Joe. He was looking straight at the camera; the night vision made his eyes look strangely bright. Maggie’s heart gave a jolt.
Joe cleared his throat. “Um, I don’t really know where to begin. Since you’ve blocked my number, bird cam seemed like the best option.” His voice was a scratchy whisper. “Maggie, I’m sorry. I messed up. And then instead of just asking for your forgiveness, I got defensive like a complete douchebag and turned things around onto you. You’ve done nothing wrong.
“I need you to understand how this all happened. It is true that I had been doing some freelance marketing for Gilbert and Marks. I had nothing to do with the lettings side of things; my role was to make the agency look appealing to landlords looking for a managing agent and to potential renters. I stopped working for my uncle when he conned my mum into handing over her shares of the business. I swear to god, when I applied for the job with you, I had no idea that he was your landlord.” Joe paused to adjust his collar against the wind.
“By the time I discovered the link it was too late—how could I have told you without you thinking I had targeted you on purpose? Then when he started eviction proceedings, I knew I had to act. I even tried suing him for wrongful eviction. I was always on your side, Maggie.
“You are the kindest, most patient, most unselfish person I have ever met. You take everything onto your own shoulders so that the people you love have less to carry. I guess a part of me wanted to be your hero, wanted to prove to you that I was worth keeping around. I thought I could make things right, and instead I made a right hash of everything. Whatever you may think of me, I need you to know that I was never, ever in cahoots with my uncle. No matter what, I will always be on your side, fighting in your corner. Even if you never want to see me again. I love you, Marguerite North, and that won’t change, however far apart we are.”
Joe stared out of the screen for a few seconds and then he was gone. Maggie continued to stare at the dark outlines of the trees as though waiting for Joe to return. He didn’t. Gerry stopped the video and tucked the iPad back under his arm.
“Shit!” she murmured under her breath. She was in daze; her heart was doing all kinds of wild things.
“Quite,” Gerry agreed.
“As apologies go, that was pretty up there.” She bit her lip. This morning had been a lot.
“Don’t know what young Joe has done, but he seems like a good sort to me.”
“He is a good sort,” she agreed, feeling distant and muddleheaded.
“Probably shouldn’t have let him go.”
“Probably not, no.” Her mind was stuck on Joe’s final words: however far apart we are. Where was he? If only she hadn’t been so hasty to block his number.
“When you think about it, there’s not much you can’t come back from if you really love someone. Apart from finding out that your dearly beloved is a murderer, or a bigamist, but beside those few exceptions, it’s all just a storm in a teacup if you are truly in love,” Gerry offered. “And I think you are truly in love, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she said weakly. “I am.”
* * *
Finding somewhere to park at the port had been impossible. Simone had trundled the noisy old van around the area so many times that the Port of Dover Police had begun to eye her suspiciously. When they began to talk into their walkie-talkies, she pulled off to one side.
“You need to go and find Joe. I’ll park up along the seafront and catch you up.”
Patrick paled. “Don’t make me go by myself!”
“There isn’t another option. In less than half an hour, that ferry is going to set sail with Joe on it unless you stop him.”
“But. What am I going to say to him? What if he won’t listen to me?”
“Make him listen to you!”
She took a breath and brought her voice down from snappish to merely forceful.
“This is going to be uncomfortable as hell, and you are going to have to eat some serious humble pie. But you will do it because it is the right thing to do and because it will make your mum happy. Trust me, when you find him, the words will be there.”
He looked down at his lap as though steeling himself and then flung the van door, which creaked like an old farm gate, open.
“Okay. Let’s do this.” He jumped down. “Wish me luck!”
“Good luck! Go get that grocer!”
Patrick set off at a jog, and Simone looped back around and found a car park at the edge of the town, then began speed-walking in the direction she had last seen her nephew.
The wind came off the English Channel in salty gusts that knocked her sideways and whipped her hair over her face like damp seaweed. The only clues that storm Holly had been here were the gray piles of dirty snow clumped together in gutters and at the base of walls. The waves were whitecapped far into the distance; the sea swelled ominously, as if a behemoth was breathing below the surface. She was glad she wasn’t traveling on a ferry today.
When she reached the port, she followed signs for the foot passengers’ lounge and came upon a modern, glass-fronted building. Patrick stood outside, leaning against the windows.
“What happened?” she asked. “Where’s Joe?”
Patrick shrugged. “All ferries have been canceled due to bad weather.”
“Great! That ought to make it easier to find him. Come on.”
Patrick pushed himself away from the glass. “He’s not in there. I spoke to one of the concierges. Most of the passengers have gone into town, some have gone to find hotels. The ones who can afford it are heading back to Folkestone to catch the Channel Tunnel instead. He could be anywhere.”
Simone tried not to let the disappointment show on her face even though it dragged through her from her head to her feet. She had so wanted to make things right for her sister. She cast her eyes around the port. Where would he go? It was a huge area to search, with no guarantee that he hadn’t simply checked into a hotel in Dover to wait out the storm. In one last desperate attempt, she tried his phone again. It went straight to voicemail as before. Joe didn’t want to be found.
Patrick was looking at her for answers, and she was all out.
“We tried, sweetheart, we really did. I guess we’re just not going to win this one.”
“But we can’t give up! I have to make this right.”