The two ambled up Fore Street towards the pub.
‘And of course, when you marry a Kellow girl, you marry the whole bloody clan.’ Jarvis laughed and Miguel got the impression that, far from being a negative, this was a thought Jarvis relished.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MERRIN
With her heart pounding, Merrin stepped into the parlour and could feel her mum staring at her. It was all she could do not to fall to the floor and sob again, for so many competing reasons. The loss of the last two years, the memory of the days after her wedding spent utterly broken by grief, and also in deep sadness that her beloved gran was not going to heft the back door open with her bottom and tell her that she needed to eat something. And in that moment, as she thought of her Milbury Court quarters, which consisted of just a bedroom and a bathroom, she realised how much she had missed this homely space.
At the same time, she looked with nervous regularity at the back and front doors, her spine stiff, prepared for someone to walk in and make a comment, reminding her of the day she was left at the altar. That, and she was fearful of reuniting with Ruby. The frank and hostile words exchanged between the two of them were lodged in her skin like thorns. There was a small part of her that worried her parents might take her sister’s part, especially as they saw Ruby every day and Merrin was not around to put her side or fight her corner. Telephone calls that spilt love down the wire as if it were liquid gave her some reassurance, but she knew that until she sat in the parlour and was handed tea, this thought would not quieten.
‘What is it, Mum?’ She turned towards her with eyes brimming.
‘I just can’t get over your hair!’ Heather shook her head as if coming to terms with a tragedy.
‘I cut it ages ago!’
‘I know you did, but because I don’t see you every day,’ she said pointedly, ‘I imagine you to look like you used to, with your lovely long, thick hair, and it’s a shock to see you with that little short bob thing going on.’
‘I really like it.’ Bella voiced her opinion, and she was grateful.
Merrin stared lovingly at Bella as she undid her blouse and helped little Glynn latch on. It was no wonder her baby boy was growing so fast with his constant desire to feed. Merrin was so proud of her best friend; she seemed a natural at this mothering lark, and was coping well with the fact she was doing it alone. But as Ruby had said on Skype when he was born, ‘They say it takes a whole village to raise a child and, in my opinion, there ain’t no better village than Port Charles.’
The memory of the words touched Merrin as she now stared at the crumpled face of the newborn; she used to think the same and had planned on it for the kids she and Digby would have, picturing them making the beach their playground as they ran across the sand barefoot.
Horatio? You have got to be kidding me! She had laughed at the suggested name. It had felt so close she could almost touch it: motherhood and all that came with it. She realised that not having kids would be the consequence of her aversion to a lifelong commitment and she was, most days, fine with that.
‘Whose heap of junk is that parked outside?’ Ruby yelled. Her tone was jovial and it broke the ice under which Merrin had been sitting, holding her breath.
‘Don’t let her hear you, she has feelings, does that Vera Wilma Brown!’ She hesitated for a beat, then turned and ran to her sister, holding her close and hoping it spoke of love and reconnection.
‘My big sister is getting hitched,’ she whispered.
‘She sure is,’ Ruby replied. ‘Wouldn’t have done it without you here, Merry.’
Merrin closed her eyes. This meant the world. She felt some of the tension leave her shoulders.
‘Flippin’ ’eck!’ Heather put her hands on her hips. ‘You two being nice to each other? Hugging each other? What’s going on here?’
The two girls sprang apart.
‘And if you think you can come back and take my side of the room as well as your own, you’ve got another think coming,’ Ruby said. ‘I might have left home, but I’m not moving my old shit off the shelves for no one!’
‘Aaaand normal service is resumed,’ Heather clucked.
‘You look really well, Rubes. Happy.’ Merry threw the verbal olive branch towards her sister as they sat at the table.
‘I am. It’s good to see you, Miss Shorty-hair. It suits you.’
‘It’s good to see you too.’ Merrin stared at her sister’s luscious locks, feeling the echo of her mother’s words and more than a pang of regret at having taken the nail scissors and hacked off her mane.
‘It’s funny, really. I’ve been so stressed over the last few weeks, fretting about all the little things that need doing and worrying about how it would all come together, but right now, with everything pretty much organised, I don’t feel that nervous at all. Plus, I mean, it’s Jarv, he’s my best mate. There’s no wondering if it’s the right thing to do or any second-guessing or doubt – easy.’
‘I guess that’s how it should be.’ Merrin thought of Digby and remembered a time when she had taken his words of love as gospel, letting them fill her head with crazy, misplaced notions of a future spent in harmony. Lies, no doubt, but how she had fallen for them and the promise he offered. It had felt like the right thing to do, no second-guessing or doubt in her mind – easy . . .
‘Absolutely.’ Her mum walked to the stove. ‘It’s exactly how it should be. I’ve made a Bakewell tart and some walnut-and-apple cakes. Or there’s fresh bread if you want some with jam?’
‘Ooh, I’ll have a cup of tea and a bit of Bakewell tart, please.’ Her mouth watered and again her tears fell at this most simple gesture that she had missed.
‘Coming up!’ Her mum’s face broke into a look of sheer delight. ‘And don’t you cry, my darling. You’re home!’
‘I can’t help it, Mum.’ She sniffed. ‘It’s so good to be here in this room, the way it smells . . . the furniture . . . everything . . .’ It was a little overwhelming.