‘For some it does. Like old Ma Mortimer.’
‘Yes, but not me. And when Digby proposed, it was like something opened up inside me, it brought me peace. As though I’d been worrying about my future without really knowing it and then I didn’t have to worry any more, because it was laid out in front of me, and it felt wonderful. All I’ve ever wanted was enough of a wage coming in for the odd luxury, to be able to put food on the table, and a family.’ She felt her gut fold at the image she conjured of her babies, picturing herself in the matriarchal role her mother performed so well. ‘That’s it, really: domestic bliss. I know it’s not always the most fashionable ambition, but I can’t help that.’ She wiped her eyes on the corner of the pillow slip. ‘I felt grateful he’d asked me. He talked of places I’d yet to see and fancy holidays, swish restaurants, travel. All the things that “other people” did. And I nearly became “other people”. I loved him, Ruby – I love him.’ The admission made her voice catch. ‘Marrying him felt a bit like taking a short cut into the life I wanted: a comfortable life that meant I could make a wonderful home and raise my children. And we would have done it right here in Port Charles.’
‘You’ll build a different future. You can still have all of that, just not with that prick.’
‘Maybe.’ She felt the dream slip from her, knowing that to give in to that kind of love, that kind of promise, was too risky. She would never put herself in this position again. Never.
‘Go to sleep. Close your eyes and go to sleep. I’ll sit right here and I won’t leave until you wake. Try and rest, Merrin Mercy.’
‘Thank you, Ruby. I do love you.’ She closed her eyes, which felt full of grit, and wished she could sleep for a hundred years.
‘I love you too.’ Despite her whirring thoughts and broken spirit, it was the last thing Merrin heard before sleep claimed her.
Merrin woke the next morning and lay still in the bed. Her night had been fretful with regular wakeful interruptions to sob into her pillow or stare out of the window, where every corner, every wall, every patch of grass and every lane held an image of her and Digby together. It was almost more than she could stand. With her head still pounding and her eyes swollen, she looked over at her sister.
‘Morning.’ Ruby stretched. ‘Tea?’
She nodded. ‘I’ll go make it and bring it back up.’ It felt like the least she could do after her sister’s wonderful support the previous evening.
‘Well, I don’t feel so bad about still having to share a room with you if this is the service I can now expect.’
Merrin, still in her jeans and t-shirt, pulled her hair into a ponytail and rubbed her eyes before slowly treading the stairs. Pausing in the little hallway, where the front door was, as ever, thrown wide, she looked through the crack in the parlour door, steeling herself to face her parents, who were no doubt still wanting to ask questions and offer solutions, neither of which she felt strong enough to address. Merrin laid the flat of her palm on the cool, wide stone wall and couldn’t help but think of this time yesterday – the air of excitement, the anticipation of a new life about to begin – and yet here she was, back to square one, but with her heart and faith bruised. Once again this fact hit her squarely in her chest like a flying object.
Her dad was, she noticed, sitting on the battered narrow sofa in front of the fireplace.
‘Come here, my beauty.’ He patted the space next to him and her mother rushed over and dropped next to him on the floor, her head resting on his legs. It felt invasive to watch the moment of intimacy, but what came next caught her attention.
‘What we going to do, Ben?’
‘What can we do? Be there for her, put our arms around her. It was all anyone could talk about in the pub last night. I left early, sick of hearing the guesswork, I was. Everyone has an opinion on it! We need to try and keep the gossip from our door. It’ll do her no good to hear it.’
Merrin’s heart boomed in her chest and again she felt sick. Her dad was right, it did her no good to hear it . . .
‘Easier said than done in Port Charles,’ her mum confirmed, and again Merrin’s nerve faltered.
‘She ain’t as strong as Ruby. I worry it’ll bring her right down.’ Her dad sighed and Merrin’s thoughts swam; this was hard to hear.
‘All she wanted was to be wed. But I had a bad feeling about it.’
‘We both did, but what could we do? We told her what we thought, but when the heart’s leading, it’s hard to navigate any other course.’
She remembered their somewhat subdued reaction to the news of her engagement. What was it they had seen that she had missed? Had everyone in the village seen it? She felt so foolish, so embarrassed.
Her dad bent low and kissed his wife’s head. ‘I know I couldn’t have walked away from you, no matter what anyone said. I loved you from the very first. Even now, after all these years wed, I can’t get used to being away from you. It will never feel right to me.’
‘I hate it too.’ Her mum laced her fingers with his as he raked her thick, dark curls and let his fingertips graze her cheek. ‘I sleep differently when you’re away at sea, Ben. The absence of you is a physical thing for me; I can’t quite take a full breath or concentrate, not while the man I love is away and in possible danger, it’s like my spirit can’t rest.’ Heather leant up and kissed his face.
Quite trapped, Merrin was loath to make her presence known, feeling it an invasion of the beautiful moment whether she interrupted or stayed quiet.