‘Don’t be such a baby; I know these roads like the back of my hand.’ She threw her head back and laughed.
This, he figured, was the excited phase she had mentioned earlier. The car rounded the lane and they began the slow descent into the village of Port Charles. He looked over at her smiling face as she rolled down her window to let the atmosphere of the winding streets and narrow terraces fill the car. How he loved the way her short hair curled under her ear and showed off her heart-shaped face. A face he never grew tired of staring at. One of the things he loved most about her was how unaware of her beauty she was.
‘Look, a rainbow!’ He pointed at the house on the corner of a narrow junction with a rainbow painted in glorious colours.
She laughed. ‘That’s Nancy Cardy’s house, Jarvis’s mum and Ruby’s future mother-in-law. She got so sick of the paint scrapes on the corner of her cottage that, a few years back, she decided to embrace them, adding to them with her own acrylics, and the result, as you can see, is a four-foot rainbow on the corner of her home. Jarvis told me the paint scrapes were probably worth more than the house itself when you take into account the fancy metallic finishes of the Porsches, Land Rovers and suchlike that flood the place at the first sniff of sunshine!’
‘I love it!’
‘Me too.’
A voice called out. ‘All right, Merrin! Beautiful day!’
‘All right, Mac! ’Tis that.’ She waved her hand at a man who was carrying a crate of Coke bottles up the steep pavement. Turning, she smiled at him, almost in recognition that this greeting had been uneventful, nothing awkward about it, as if she had seen him only yesterday. She sat taller in the seat, as if it had given her confidence.
She had told him this, how everyone in the area knew everyone else. The Kellow family was, he had learnt, part of the fabric of the place and, as such, everyone knew not only Merrin’s history, but her present too. He was looking forward to meeting the wider Kellow clan and wanted to make the best impression. It was important. He could see a future with this girl and knew that would be so much easier if her parents approved.
Merrin parked the car on a square of tarmac next to the cobbles and honked the horn. He took a moment, slowly unclipping the seat belt, flattening his hair and rolling up the window, wanting to give her a second or two to run into the arms of her squealing mother and the woman holding a baby – Bella, he assumed – who had run from the cottage. He could not have predicted Merrin’s reaction. This girl who was always contained, efficient, quiet, mostly – it was as if her body concertinaed with loss, and she clung to her mother and friend as if they were her life support; great, gulping sobs left her body as she fought to catch a breath, as her face, instantly blotchy and twisted, spoke of such sadness it tore at his heart. Her dad, thankfully axe-free, came out of the house next door, where he knew Ruby had lived with her fiancé since their gran had passed away the year before. The man hesitated for a beat, as if he could barely cope with the intensity of emotion on display.
Miguel clambered out awkwardly, trying to give Merrin some privacy at what felt like the most intense of moments, concentrating on stretching his legs and breathing in the warm Cornish air. There was no doubt about it: this was a beautiful spot, picture-postcard perfect and right on the water; he couldn’t imagine growing up somewhere so beautiful. He thought of his tiny bedroom in his parents’ flat, which faced a main road. Growing up, his background noise had been honking horns and the wheeze of brakes, and the closest he had got to nature was when a hobbling pigeon landed on his grey window sill for a shit. But seeing this, he now properly understood her pain at having to leave it all behind.
When it seemed that Merrin had calmed a little, he turned to take in the family.
‘Home at last!’ Ben Kellow, a short, stocky man, rushed forward and folded Merrin in a tight hug. Both were a little overcome with emotion, and he understood; two years was a long time not to see your child. ‘What a wonderful thing! My little Merrin Mercy.’ Ben let her go and studied her, as if examining her face for change. ‘How we’ve missed you. In’t that right, Heather?’
Heather Kellow nodded as she held a handkerchief under her nose; it appeared she was a little too overwhelmed for words. She simply stared at her daughter’s face before planting a kiss on her cheek.
‘How long is it you’re staying, little one?’ her dad asked, with such excitement it was almost painful to watch.
‘Give her a minute, Ben, she’s only just arrived and already you’re talking about her leaving!’ Heather found her voice. ‘Hello, my love.’ She turned to him, her tone warm and kindly.
‘Hello, Mrs Kellow.’ He wasn’t sure whether to shake her hand or hug her and so did neither, standing awkwardly with his hands on his hips.
‘Call me Heather.’ She winked at him and he liked her welcome.
‘Just two nights, Dad.’ Merrin spoke with a breathlessness that betrayed her nerves. ‘And then back to work.’
‘Two nights.’ The man whispered the fact with no small echo of disappointment. His smile faltered, which rather took the joy from the moment. ‘We shall make the most of it,’ he rallied. ‘A wedding!’ He clapped his hands. ‘Can you believe that someone wants to marry old Ruby?’ He chuckled. Merrin had told him about this, the good-natured ribbing that flew back and forth.
Ben then turned his attention to Miguel and looked him straight in the eye. ‘Hello there, boy! You must be Miguel.’ He stepped forward and shook Miguel warmly by the hand. ‘Good journey?’
‘Not bad, considering Merrin was driving,’ he whispered.
‘I reckon you’ll be needing a beer, am I right?’
‘Now that sounds like a plan.’