To Love and Be Loved

‘And hers. His mother. It’s her fault too.’

‘Maybe, but as I say, he’s a grown man, not a child, and he should have found his balls and spoken up earlier or stood up to her, either way.’

Merrin laughed. Her mum’s sentiments pretty much echoed her own. ‘You said “balls”.’

‘Yes, I did.’ Heather was smiling now, she could tell. ‘I’ve taken a couple of your old shifts at the Port Charles Hotel and it tides us over. Don’t you go worrying about us, we are right as ninepence.’

Merrin wanted to believe this. ‘I want to pay you back, Mum. I’m going to set up a monthly transfer; it’s not much, but it’ll make me feel less rubbish.’

‘You don’t have to do that.’

Merrin read between the lines that the money might be useful. It was the least she could do.

‘And have you met anyone nice?’

‘You mean like a potential boyfriend?’ Her lip curled and her stomach dropped at the thought.

‘Yes.’

‘No.’ She didn’t socialise at all, preferring to keep herself to herself, and had not allowed herself to make a friend, let alone find a boyfriend. ‘Definitely not. I can’t see me ever committing to anyone like I did with him. I don’t think it’s worth the risk. It hurts too much, Mum. Even now. It changed me.’

‘Oh, it is, Merry!’ Her mum’s tone was urgent. ‘Don’t ever think that. It is worth the risk. It would be the greatest shame if you didn’t let yourself love and be loved, it really would. I can’t think of a life without your dad in it, no matter he drives me crackers! Or my girls.’

‘We’ll see. But at the moment I try not to think too far ahead. Anyway, the reason I called was to give you my news.’

‘Yes! What is it?’

‘I got a permanent job, a promotion, kind of. From now on I’ll be on reception.’

‘Oh! Well, that’s . . . that’s wonderful! We are so proud of you.’ Merrin could picture her mum’s face, speaking in that way she did when she coated her words with gloss, trying to disguise the fact they came from a mouth contorted by tears. ‘How I love you, little Merry.’

She nodded and closed her eyes, pushing the phone into her cheek, trying to get as close as possible to her mother across the miles, suddenly remembering again what it had felt like to be guided from the vestry and placed on the cart with Bella and Ruby holding her arms. He’s not coming . . . The Reverend Pimm’s words were as sharp and cutting now as they had been when she first heard them.

‘I love you too, Mum. All of you. Will you tell Dad for me, about my new job?’

‘Yep, ’course.’ Heather Kellow caught her breath. ‘Ruby’s out with Jarvis, they’re collecting firewood on the beach, but she’ll be sad she missed you.’

Merrin wasn’t so sure. Her mum did this too, tried to build bridges between her daughters. She took a beat to consider how to respond. It was no secret that things between her and Ruby had been a little fraught since she had left home. It seemed to have irked her sister that she had chosen to up sticks and leave, as if she took the fact that Merrin didn’t need her help to heal or had rejected the life they lived personally. She had tried again only recently to explain it over the phone.

‘I just can’t be there, Ruby. I can’t be in a place where I might bump into him or his mother on a daily basis.’ She felt her mouth go dry at the prospect. ‘And everyone else who might want to stare at me, whisper about me. It’s more than I can stand to think about . . . and it hurts too much. Every place I look in Port Charles has a memory of Digby and me; I can’t imagine being faced with that, and the thought of seeing him. . .’ She’d shuddered.

‘You’re letting them win then!’

‘I don’t know about that.’ She’d kept her cool. ‘But I know it’s me who has lost a lot.’ My home, daily contact with my mum and dad, walking barefoot on the beach, my beloved Cornwall . . .

Even now, if she closed her eyes, she could smell the smoky fire in the parlour, and her mouth watered for the feel of hot tea sipped on the sofa, sitting with legs coiled beneath her, next to her beloved mum.

‘I’d better crack on, Mum. Love you.’

‘Love you too.’

She always took a minute at the end of a call to calm the syrupy loss that sloshed in her stomach. It was a strange thing: rather than make her feel closer to home, closer to those she loved, these calls with her parents or Bella, in fact any contact with home, had almost the opposite effect, like bringing a picture into focus, enabling her to see and feel all that she was missing, confirming how very far away she was.

But that was just how it had to be.



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