‘Jarv, mate, have you met your mother? She’d march you straight back to Ruby’s doorstep with a thick ear!’
‘You’re probably right, but I dunno, I don’t like the idea of some stranger sleeping up there. It was my space. The place Ben built for me.’
He pictured his teenage self mid-renovation, with Ben barking orders that kept him occupied, gave him purpose. And there it was again, that punch to the gut.
‘And now you don’t need it, cos you are a grown-ass man,’ Robin teased.
‘Suppose so, but it still don’t feel right. I’m glad Ben knew we were having a babby, he was excited right enough; used to talk about all the things he was going to do with the boy. Take him fishing, of course, and to the stands at Truro FC.’
‘You know it’s a boy then?’ Robin asked.
‘No! That was just Ben’s intuition.’ The mention of him was enough to fire a bolt of grief that speared him. Jarvis looked towards the door. ‘I keep expecting him to walk in. I keep looking for him down at the harbour or in here.’
‘Me too.’ Robin looked down and, to Jarvis’s surprise, big, fat tears rolled from the man’s chin. ‘I miss him, Jarv! I miss the old bastard!’
‘I know, mate. I know.’ Jarvis placed his hand on the man’s shoulder and let his own tears fall. ‘I miss him too.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
MERRIN
Merrin’s eyes were fixed on the slowly rising sun, captivated as ever by the spectacle. It was two days after the funeral and that afternoon she was heading back to Thornbury, her train ticket booked. She catalogued the view, knowing she would be walking away from it soon enough.
‘Merrin?’ The call was low yet firm. She looked around from where she stood on the cobbles, surprised to see Heather up and out of bed and standing in front of the cottage, although she was still in her long, white nightdress with her dressing gown wrapped tightly around her and thick socks on her feet to ward off the chill. Her complexion looked a little brighter, her eyes a little clearer. It was a start, no more.
‘You okay, Mum?’
‘I am, but I need to speak to you and your sister. Can you go fetch her and both come inside?’ Without waiting for a reply, she turned and made her way into the cottage.
Merrin looked up to the bedroom that used to be Granny Ellen’s, as Ruby looked out and opened the window.
‘Mum wants to talk to us both,’ she called up. ‘Now.’
‘Bit early, isn’t it?’ Ruby rubbed at her face and yawned.
Merrin shrugged and splayed her hands to indicate she didn’t know what was going on.
‘Close the door, please,’ her mum instructed as she settled into the chair in front of the blazing fire. Merrin did as she was asked and sat on the sofa. Ruby came in, still in her pyjamas and thick socks, and sat next to her. They both arranged one of the woollen blankets that lived on the arms of the chairs over their knees and sat like kids, awaiting further instruction. The air crackled with anticipation.
‘Jarv just told me Loretta came here.’ Ruby glanced at her, her tone carrying the vaguest hint that she was aggrieved Merrin hadn’t told her.
‘She did.’ Heather spoke softly, but unapologetically. ‘I worked for her for the longest time and we used to talk. I think she saw me as her friend, believe it or not.’
Merrin shifted in her seat. ‘And did you see her as a friend?’ She knew the answer might be conflicting: how could anyone treat a friend’s daughter in the way she had treated Merrin?
Heather drew breath. ‘I felt sorry for her; I don’t think she had many people to talk to, still doesn’t.’ She took her time. ‘She’s a foolish woman, a vain one, a snob too, but I don’t think she’s evil. Your dad never liked us being friends, but yes, I think we were. Think we are,’ she corrected. ‘She used to talk openly to me while I cleaned. And I never made too much comment, just got on with the job, which I think suited her too.’
‘I didn’t know that, Mum.’ It felt strange to see their relationship in this new light and she suspected Heather had played down their friendship, because she was right, her dad would have had a strong opinion on it.
‘There are things, Merry, that . . .’ – her mum paused and looked to the fire, as if that was where the words might lurk – ‘。 . . that happened a long time ago that reflect on her and on us in some ways. Things that maybe Digby is unaware of and that a woman like Loretta, for whom reputation is everything, might have felt too difficult to face.’
‘Could you be any more vague?’ Merrin was curious.
‘Why are you defending her? What kind of things?’ Ruby was, as ever, more direct, but still asked with a respectful softness in recognition of their situation, when on any other day, Merrin guessed, she would have yelled.
‘I’m not defending her, Ruby, just trying to explain. And as for what things, it’s not my story to tell, but know that for Loretta Mortimer one of the worst things in the world would be the feeling that she was second choice, second best. She’s spent her whole life trying to run from that very thing.’
‘Because she was born in a swamp?’ Ruby asked without sarcasm, but rather with emotion to her tone, as if her mother’s words had resonated.
‘Something like that.’ Heather smiled sweetly at her girls. ‘Anyway, I didn’t ask you both to come in to talk about Loretta; there’s something I need to do.’ She shook her head and slowly reached for her glasses and a folded piece of paper that lay on the table. The clock ticked loudly on the wall.
‘This . . . this is a little bit odd, but I’ve been given my instructions.’ She managed a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘I have a letter to read to you, so pop another log on the fire and both get comfy. And don’t speak until I’ve finished – that’s part of my instruction: “Don’t let them speak until you’ve finished.” It says it right here.’ She pointed at the sheet of paper now nestling in her hands.
‘A letter from who?’ Ruby asked the question Merrin had wanted to, before putting a cushion behind her back on the sofa while Merrin did as she was asked and jumped up and retrieved a log from the wicker basket with the frayed edge and tossed it into the grate, before settling back under the blanket.
Heather held her gaze and answered slowly. ‘It’s . . . it’s from your dad. A letter from your dad.’
‘Oh!’ Merrin felt her stomach fold with loss and didn’t know if she could bear to listen. Ruby whimpered softly and buried her face in her hands.
Heather Kellow cleared her throat and began.
Bloody doctors! I told them this heart has faced storms, the wildest seas you can imagine, and even the wrath of my missus when I’ve come home late and dinner is spoilt! It’s seen me right every day of my life and now they’re telling me it’s failing? Load of old baloney! But just in case, I figured I’d better get some stuff down on paper and send a copy off to our shark of a solicitor!
Heather paused to catch her breath, and looked briefly at her and Ruby sitting close together as she smoothed the letter in her palm. The wood in the grate flared into life. Merrin, like her sister, was in tears before her mother read another word. The ache to see her dad was physical.