For a moment, Joel was tempted to give it to him, before he realised the horrendous amount of trouble they would all get into if he let this happen.
He looked at Caleb. ‘When you finish school,’ he said. ‘If you get all the way through and pass your exams – because you’re obviously smart – then you come and find me. And I’ll help you in any way I can. And then you can have the watch.’
‘Whoa! That’s going to be my watch!’
‘If you get your head down,’ said Joel. ‘And ignore all the crap. And just get on. And try your best. Caleb …’
The boy was staring at him as if he held the meaning of life.
‘There is a way out. I promise there is. You just have to work harder than the next person. Which doesn’t seem fair and it doesn’t seem nice and you’ll think nobody will care, and you might be right. They might not. But then it doesn’t matter, because you’ll be old enough and out of there and you can make the world care about you. It just takes time.’
Caleb nodded. ‘Well, I’ll have time,’ he said cheekily. ‘Because I’ll have your watch.’
‘You’ll have my watch,’ agreed Joel, feeling very nervous as they approached the farm gates, and very unsure of the welcome awaiting him.
Chapter Fifty-six
Flora walked out into the courtyard, glass in hand. She noticed to the side that Innes now had his arm around Lorna’s waist and, across the room, that Saif was trying very hard not to look at it. She saw her father, happily oblivious to all of this, beaming at everybody there, obviously quite surprising himself with the speed with which it had become completely normal to him that his son was marrying another man – a foreigner at that. Amazing. Almost as amazing as Hamish, who was sequestered in a corner with a girl Flora had never seen in her life before – busty, and incredibly overdressed for a Sunday barbecue, in a low-cut top and a very short skirt. Hamish wasn’t saying much, but he looked utterly delighted.
Flora cleared her throat.
Colton and Fintan were holding each other closely, looking expectantly at her as the crowd quietened. God, Colton had lost a lot of weight. She thought only brides did that.
Joel was nowhere to be seen.
‘Um,’ she said, her voice growing quieter.
‘I just wanted to say … thanks for coming. To celebrate the engagement of Colton and Fintan, even though obviously that’s very annoying as two people shouldn’t get married whose names sound exactly the same …’
There was some appreciative laughter.
‘But we are so happy that they are and that they’re going to be staying here on Mure …’
A cheer went up.
‘… and Colton will be getting the drinks in. Hopefully.’
Colton raised a glass with a half-smile.
‘So. Eat, drink, be merry, everyone … and here …’
There had been a collection box in the Seaside Kitchen for weeks, hastily hidden if either of the happy couple came in. Flora didn’t think anyone hadn’t contributed. She lifted the cloth she’d had underneath the trestle. There it was. A swing.
She didn’t know when it had occurred to her that a swing would make a nice gift. It was for the tree just outside the Rock before you got to the walled garden where the vegetables grew. It just seemed the perfect spot for it. It was a large swing, built for two by the endlessly talented Geoffrey, and inscribed carefully by old Ramsay at the forge: ‘Colton & Fintan, September 2018’ in immaculate letters.
The men knew immediately where it was for. Fintan jumped up, grinning and pink. Colton didn’t move for a little bit, and when she glanced back up at him – this guy who had received honours and prizes his entire life, who had done little but win acclaim and awards wherever he’d been – she saw tears in his eyes, and suddenly, for the first time, he looked his age.
Fintan held it up.
‘This is beautiful,’ he said wonderingly. ‘Geoffrey, was this you?’
The old man, who rarely said more than was strictly necessary at any given moment, nodded shyly.
‘We’ll treasure it,’ said Fintan. ‘Outside the Rock, don’t you think? On all those freezing evenings! We can swing on it to keep warm.’
Colton did his best to smile, but still didn’t seem quite able to trust his voice.
Fintan embraced Flora. ‘Thanks, sis,’ he said and she hugged him back.
‘I’m so glad you came home,’ he added under his breath, and Flora grinned.
‘That’s not what you said at the time.’
‘I’m an older, wiser man now,’ he grinned back.
‘No, you have an older, wiser man,’ corrected Flora, and watched as Fintan put the swing down – very, very carefully – and went back to embrace Colton, who still hadn’t moved. He seemed very overcome by emotion, she thought.
Everyone else was clapping and turning back to their drinks and the fiddles were starting up again, and as she stood there she realised that everyone had turned away. And she was still there, alone, her brothers engulfed.
‘That was a nice idea, lass,’ came a voice, and she realised her father was by her elbow, surrounded, of course, by the omnipresent dogs. ‘Very nice.’
He clasped her arm. She could never quite get used to being taller than him.
‘That chap of yours?’
Flora winced. How could she say it? Joel had let her down. Or she hadn’t been enough. Either way … There was to be no excusing it. No understanding it, even. If even her father had noticed …
She just shrugged.
‘He’s over there,’ her dad said.
Chapter Fifty-seven
Joel stood, looking awkward, holding a small boy by the hand.
‘Uh, hi,’ he said.
‘You came!’ said Flora, unable to conceal her delight. He looked so much better: much, much healthier than he had a few weeks ago, stumbling off the plane. Then her eyes travelled to the little mite next to him.
‘Hello,’ she said kindly. ‘Who are you?’
But then the entire party traipsed up behind them, and she clocked the entire band of boys, with a smug-looking Jan and an oblivious-looking Charlie bringing up the rear.
‘HELLO, FLORA,’ shouted Jan loudly. ‘So lovely to have your ex working for us now! He’s just wonderful; I can’t believe you let him go.’
Flora blinked twice and turned round and headed straight into the house.
This was her home – the place she had lived most of her life, in happy times and sad. But there was nothing here for her tonight. Her hands scraped the corridor wall, covered in old pictures of her and the boys: riding ponies; blowing out candles. Her parents, getting married in black and white, nervously beaming at each other, looking like children dressed up in wedding clothes. Rosettes from long-forgotten dancing shows; small trophies here and there. The detritus of a long family life in an old family home.
She picked over the various people having loud, slightly pissed-up but very intent conversations in the kitchen, and glanced again out of the window at happy couples dancing in the golden early evening light, including Innes and Lorna.
Even if you took away the fact that Innes was her stupid big brother, you couldn’t deny they made a good-looking pair: his hair blond in the sun, hers a shimmering red-gold glinting in the light; both laughing; dancing with practised ease, Innes from many nights seducing girls on and off the island and Lorna because she had to teach all the little ones for the Christmas party. They were lovely together, and Flora felt a mixture of happiness and sadness all at once. She caught a glimpse of Saif suddenly, sitting to the side sipping a beer while getting his ear bent by Mrs Kennedy, who thought that her medical woes were of interest to everyone, and probably took this even further with the doctor. But his eyes were watching the dancers too, and his face was sad.