‘He’s been toasted to the rafters,’ Delta says, even as someone behind her raises their glass. ‘I’d kill you for a whiskey.’ She reaches out and grips my arm to steady herself as she slithers awkwardly off the stool. ‘Need to pee again.’
I smile as I hang on to her, and then I pause, disconcerted because my foot is suddenly warm. When I look down, I see why, and when I look back up again slowly, Delta grips my hands hard enough to cut the blood supply.
‘Ah, shite,’ she says quietly. ‘My waters just broke.’
‘Raff would have pissed himself laughing at this, wouldn’t he?’ Delta says, cradling her newborn son in her arms a few hours later. We’re in Raff’s cosy sitting room behind the pub, where she’s propped up on the big green sofa Raff sometimes used to catch forty winks on between the afternoon and evening shift. Everything kind of shifted a gear out in the bar once word went round that Delta’s waters had broken. Dr Luke calmly laid down his fiddle, to everyone’s relief, and guided his patient out of the busy bar, accompanied by Erin to give him a hand and Dolores for moral support. In London, it would have been a mad panic of hospital bags and running red lights. Here on Salvation, it’s ‘Hold my pint, I’ll be back through shortly to wet the baby’s head.’
‘No swearing in front of my grandson, now,’ Dolores says. She sparked to life the moment she realized her daughter needed her. I wouldn’t put it past Raff to have looked down at his sister in trouble and given his niece a bit of a nudge.
Dolores studies the tiny boy in her daughter’s arms, and then places her hand tenderly on Delta’s cheek. Delta meets her mother’s eyes and nods, silent, bittersweet acknowledgement that their family has experienced profound loss and bottomless joy today. I feel a sudden jolt of longing for my own mum. It’s been too long since I last saw her, last shared a cup of tea and basked in her calming company. Dolores twists to glance behind her for a second, searching, and then she reaches across the back of the sofa for Carmen’s grey shawl. She discarded it earlier in the heat of the moment, sweat on her brow, and now she carefully lifts her infant grandson and wraps him up.
‘There you go.’ She perches beside Delta, her eyes on Salvation’s brand-new resident. ‘The warmest wool on the island.’
I smile and look away, caught between a laugh and choking back tears. Brianne passes Delta tea and toast, and Erin sits beside me, bum resting against the table, whiskey in her hand.
‘Your husband was amazing,’ I say to Erin, full of admiration. Duty done, Dr Luke has headed upstairs to the bathroom because, in truth, he looks a bit like James Herriot after a rough day in a draughty barn on the Dales.
‘He is that,’ Erin nods, proud. ‘Feckin’ terrible at the fiddle though.’
And just like that, everyone in the room starts to laugh. I bloody love this island.
It’s past three in the morning when I finally head up Wailing Hill. Otter Lodge is empty for another week yet. I didn’t put up a fight when Brianne said to hang on to it for now and Cam brought my bags back from the dock. It’s all in darkness down there when I reach the boulder, the outline of the building picked out only by moonlight. It’s not expecting me back. I wonder if it will be pleased to see me or if the old stone walls will sigh with resignation at the sight of me trudging up the front steps. Not you again, drama queen. We were hoping for a birdwatcher or a professor.
Reaching for my phone, I tap open a new message to Mack, heavy-hearted to be the bearer of such unexpected news.
One – It’s been a hell of a day for Salvation, Mack, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished you were still here. I was supposed to go home today, but stuff happened and I didn’t.
Two – I’ve some sad news to tell you. Raff died. He went to sleep and just didn’t wake up. Dolores found him in bed wearing a ‘Frankie Says Relax’ T-shirt, which is just so bizarrely appropriate for him, isn’t it? I honestly don’t know how Salvation is going to cope without him.
Three – Some brighter news – Delta had her baby a couple of hours ago, a boy. I expect the stress of the day had something to do with it, she went into labour in the pub – as only she would! It’s certainly been an unforgettable twenty-four hours. I’m so tired, Mack. I’m looking at Otter Lodge now from the boulder on top of the hill, and … well, you know how it looks. Like home. X
I press send, shuttling life and death news across the ocean. It’s about half past ten at night in Boston, there’s a good chance he’ll be awake and see it come in. The wind here is bitterly cold tonight, my cheeks are freezing, but still I sit a while and stargaze, mapping out the few constellations I can identify. Ursa Major. The Plough. Jupiter, as always. I’ll head up to the café in the morning and contact Ali, I decide. I’m expected in the office on Monday morning and I’m obviously not going to be there. I’ve no clue what I’m going to say to her yet. I’ll sleep on it.