were determined not to let that be you, leading a half existence until you die, and I don’t think I ever told you how much you inspired me. I’ve wasted too much time since your father passed away, and seeing you take that chance with Louis made me really think about my own life, Sophie, I—”
“Oh, Mum, you don’t know how much it means to hear yousay that.” Tears sprang into Sophie’s eyes and she realized exactly how much she had wanted Iris to be pleased for her.
“That man, those children, have made you so happy and so content,” Iris went on. “I couldn’t be more delighted for you. And listen, I know that how you got together was a little unconventional, but none of that matters, and don’t you worry, I know just the person to look after the dogs while I’m down there helping you organize the wedding—oh! That reminds me—did I tell you about Scooby?”
“No, has he got another hernia?” Sophie asked resignedly. Sophie knew that her mother loved her more than any other person alive. Whether or not she loved any person more than she loved her dogs was a moot point.
There was one other person Sophie had to tell, only this time she could not call. She had to find the right place to relay the news; after some reflection she decided that she had to go alone. Louis was still on the phone when she pulled her sneakers and rainproof anorak on.
“I’m going for a bit of a walk, get my head together,” she whispered to him. He nodded and smiled, crossing the room in two easy strides to plant a warm kiss on her lips and hug her tightly before saying into the phone, “Yes, mate, I’m a condemned man and I couldn’t be happier about it.”
It was blustery and cold on the cliffs that rose above St. Ives. The sea was gray and foreboding, merging with a dark sky that threatened rain. The shortening autumn day was already darkening and Sophie found herself alone on the cliff top, the season’s last remaining tourists chased away by the bite of the wind and the warm promise of the tearooms.
Sophie had thought long and hard about where to tell Carrie that she was marrying Louis. Carrie didn’t have a grave. She hadnever wanted anything so sober or depressing to be left behind for people to stand over, or, worse, forget. There were really only two places that Sophie could think of to find her friend. There was Carrie’s little house on Virgin Street, where she had started her married life, lived as a family with Bella and Louis at first and then raised her two children alone after he’d found out about her affair. Or there was here, the spot where Carrie had loved to walk and paint and gaze out to sea daydreaming, planning her future. The spot where Carrie had first met Louis.
Carrie’s house was occupied now. A sweet young couple had bought it. Louis was determined to sell it to local people who would make a home of it and not a holiday rental and had let it go for much less than it was worth.
Sophie remembered talking to the woman, Emily, while she and her boyfriend had looked around the tiny house. Emily told Sophie that she’d met Steve in a nightclub in Newquay two years ago. They’d dated on and off and Steve had left her briefly when he thought that everything was getting too heavy. But a few months later, he had found her again and told her he realized that he loved her, and now they were buying their first home. On that sunny afternoon in the tiny living room where Carrie used to sit and sing Manic Street Preacher’s songs to her daughters, Sophie found herself envying the couple. Theirs had been a slow and gentle romance, an easy approach to commitment that seemed full of assurance and certainty. They had a benign confidence in the future that, even as happy as she was, Sophie had lost a long time ago and thought she would probably never regain.
While Sophie thought the couple would probably let her come in now for a moment or two, it didn’t seem like the right place to find Carrie,
“Oh, Mum, you don’t know how much it means to hear yousay that.” Tears sprang into Sophie’s eyes and she realized exactly how much she had wanted Iris to be pleased for her.
“That man, those children, have made you so happy and so content,” Iris went on. “I couldn’t be more delighted for you. And listen, I know that how you got together was a little unconventional, but none of that matters, and don’t you worry, I know just the person to look after the dogs while I’m down there helping you organize the wedding—oh! That reminds me—did I tell you about Scooby?”
“No, has he got another hernia?” Sophie asked resignedly. Sophie knew that her mother loved her more than any other person alive. Whether or not she loved any person more than she loved her dogs was a moot point.
There was one other person Sophie had to tell, only this time she could not call. She had to find the right place to relay the news; after some reflection she decided that she had to go alone. Louis was still on the phone when she pulled her sneakers and rainproof anorak on.
“I’m going for a bit of a walk, get my head together,” she whispered to him. He nodded and smiled, crossing the room in two easy strides to plant a warm kiss on her lips and hug her tightly before saying into the phone, “Yes, mate, I’m a condemned man and I couldn’t be happier about it.”
It was blustery and cold on the cliffs that rose above St. Ives. The sea was gray and foreboding, merging with a dark sky that threatened rain. The shortening autumn day was already darkening and Sophie found herself alone on the cliff top, the season’s last remaining tourists chased away by the bite of the wind and the warm promise of the tearooms.
Sophie had thought long and hard about where to tell Carrie that she was marrying Louis. Carrie didn’t have a grave. She hadnever wanted anything so sober or depressing to be left behind for people to stand over, or, worse, forget. There were really only two places that Sophie could think of to find her friend. There was Carrie’s little house on Virgin Street, where she had started her married life, lived as a family with Bella and Louis at first and then raised her two children alone after he’d found out about her affair. Or there was here, the spot where Carrie had loved to walk and paint and gaze out to sea daydreaming, planning her future. The spot where Carrie had first met Louis.
Carrie’s house was occupied now. A sweet young couple had bought it. Louis was determined to sell it to local people who would make a home of it and not a holiday rental and had let it go for much less than it was worth.
Sophie remembered talking to the woman, Emily, while she and her boyfriend had looked around the tiny house. Emily told Sophie that she’d met Steve in a nightclub in Newquay two years ago. They’d dated on and off and Steve had left her briefly when he thought that everything was getting too heavy. But a few months later, he had found her again and told her he realized that he loved her, and now they were buying their first home. On that sunny afternoon in the tiny living room where Carrie used to sit and sing Manic Street Preacher’s songs to her daughters, Sophie found herself envying the couple. Theirs had been a slow and gentle romance, an easy approach to commitment that seemed full of assurance and certainty. They had a benign confidence in the future that, even as happy as she was, Sophie had lost a long time ago and thought she would probably never regain.
While Sophie thought the couple would probably let her come in now for a moment or two, it didn’t seem like the right place to find Carrie,
Similar Books
