‘Scarlet used to love the water,’ she said to Pip. ‘She was like a little seal. In and out of the waves all day long. She had even started to swim, which was early for her age, although I always made sure she had her armbands on. The tides can be brutal here.’ Having rejected Pip’s arm when it had been offered, she now slipped her hand in the gap made by the crook of her elbow, and continued without commenting on her change of heart. ‘Looking back,’ she added, ‘I think Scarlet’s love of water was probably what drew her to the pond in the first place. It would have been calling to her.’
But she should never have been there on her own. That’s what Pip would be thinking. Evelyn knew it, because that was what everyone always thought. It was a tragedy, but why was a three-year-old child out on her own in the vicinity of a garden pond? Where was the irresponsible mother? How could she have let that happen?
Evelyn had become adept at defending herself from the ill-intentioned thoughts that came her way, bouncing them away like bullets off a shield. Pip was polite enough not to ask, but Evelyn still guarded herself against the question. She alone knew what had happened to Scarlet and what her own part in it had been. But maybe it was time to change that. Perhaps she could share the truth with Pip.
‘We didn’t come to the beach very often when I was growing up,’ replied Pip, deftly shifting the attention away from Evelyn’s drowned child. ‘It seems ridiculous now, but the farm is a little way out and Mum and Dad were always too busy to bring me. And then, when I was older, I had my studies and not much time for anything else. It’s a shame really. It feels like a lost opportunity now.’
‘Well, when you have children of your own you can make sure they get the benefits of living by the sea,’ Evelyn said.
It was mischievous of her, a statement designed to make a point to Pip, and she took pleasure in watching Pip take the bait.
‘Oh, I doubt I’ll be having any children,’ she said flatly. ‘And I don’t live here, not really.’
‘I forgot,’ replied Evelyn, doing her best to hide her smirk. It was like a reflex in Pip, the need to deny her roots. ‘You’ll be back in London. Is that the plan?’
Pip cast her eyes out across the waves to the wide horizon beyond, and Evelyn saw something in her soften.
‘There is no plan,’ she said forlornly. ‘And I don’t have a home in London, not any more. And no one to have a child with, so the whole thing is pretty much immaterial.’
‘Time to make some changes, then?’ chanced Evelyn, casting her a sidelong glance.
Pip turned to face her and their eyes met. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I think you’re right.’
40
Pip loved the pier. She always had done, but somehow that had been forgotten in and amongst everything else. She used to imagine what it would be like to live in one of the little white houses that sat on the wooden boards out to sea. She could remember her disappointment when her father told her that nobody actually lived there, that they weren’t real houses but little businesses. She didn’t let that affect her daydream, though. She continued to picture herself existing quite independently of her family in her own world on the pier, and even under it when the tide went out.
And then one day, she just forgot. Other things took up space in her head and her childhood fantasies got left behind. How had that happened? What else had she lost sight of in her single-minded pursuit of her career? Even though she loved her job, she was beginning to wonder whether she might have made too many sacrifices along the way.
Evelyn had made a sprightly start, but was beginning to look a little jaded as they approached the pier. Should she be worried about her? Pip wasn’t sure. She had no first aid skills. Girl Guides was something else that had been lost to her dogged dedication to her studies.
‘I could murder that cup of tea,’ she said now, hoping Evelyn didn’t realise she was thinking more about Evelyn’s needs than her own and take offence. ‘Shall we call in here?’
She pointed to the café at the very start of the pier, and Evelyn nodded. Pip held open the door and ushered them both in.
She hadn’t realised how strong the wind was until they were out of it. Evelyn shuffled towards a table and virtually fell into a chair. The walk had clearly been more demanding for her than she had let on. It wasn’t surprising, given how rarely she left her house, but Pip hoped they hadn’t overdone it. The nephew really would have something to complain about then.