‘No.’ Ben shook his head and fixed him with a stare. ‘She is home; you mean best route out of here.’
Miguel saw the crush of sadness on Merrin’s face at Ben’s words and wondered what it must feel like to want to be in one place, but be based in another. He decided there and then to make more effort with their room at Milbury Court – make it more homey, maybe he’d get a plant – until they could make proper plans. He took one long look around the cove and had to admit that if she wanted to come here and build a life, he would not be against it. He’d go wherever made her happy, because, like he’d said to Ben, he loved her.
‘Love you, Dad!’ She wrapped him in a tight, brief hug and kissed her mother once more before jumping into the car and starting the engine.
‘I don’t want to go. I never wanted to go. And yet I can’t wait to be gone. How do I reconcile that?’ she whispered, and he wondered for a minute if she’d forgotten he was there.
‘Have we got snacks?’ he asked, trying to lighten the mood. She looked at him sharply and smiled, exactly as if his question had reminded her of his presence.
‘I haven’t taken the handbrake off and already you’re after snacks!’ She shook her head and waved to her parents, who held each other close as they waved back. Ben winked at him as the car pulled away. Ruby, with her arms wrapped around Jarvis’s waist, gave a nod, her lips almost pursed. Miguel looked out over the wide expanse of sea where the sun shone high in the sky; there was no doubt about it, this was a little slice of heaven right here.
‘Mr and Mrs Cardy,’ he said aloud.
‘Yep, Mr and Mrs Cardy.’ She beamed, while sniffing the tears that threatened. ‘They did it!’
‘They sure did. I love you, Merrin.’
She reached into the back seat and grabbed an old lidded ice-cream tub. ‘All right, flattery will get you everywhere! Here’s some left-over sausage rolls from the buffet and a slice of wedding cake.’
As they rounded the bend by the pub a woman walked out in front of the car, as if not caring less whether it hit her or not. Merrin touched the brakes and slowed until the woman had time to reach the pavement safely.
‘Bit weird!’ He stared at the woman with the wild, white hair and staring eyes.
‘That’s poor old Lizzie Lick. I’ve told you about her.’ Merrin spoke solemnly.
‘Yes, you have, and you know, every town, village or postcode has one.’
‘One what?’ she asked.
‘You know, someone that everyone else talks about, that person whose reputation goes before them and who trails their tale in their wake. Someone who can’t escape what others say about them, a history that gets embellished until they don’t stand a chance. It’s sad.’
‘It is sad, Miguel. Fucking sad.’ She spoke with a quaver to her voice.
‘Oh God, Merrin, I didn’t mean . . .’ He felt a little sick that she might think he had meant her. You idiot!
‘Forget it.’
As she put her foot down, he replayed his words and wished he could take them back.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MERRIN
Merrin had thrown herself into her work, trying to block out the feelings of longing not only for Port Charles, but also for the life she had lived there before she became a marked woman. It had taken all this time for her to realise just how much she had lost, and all through no fault of her own. She was still angry.
And now it was Valentine’s Day. Merrin wondered how Ruby and Jarvis might celebrate their first Valentine’s as a married couple, six months after they had wed. But she was too busy to think too hard about it, intent as she was on giving their guests the best possible experience, even though she herself thought the whole thing a little ridiculous, unable to get into the swing of celebrating the deep love that she knew for most to be a temporary state.
It was always a popular event at Milbury Court. The private dining rooms were fully booked, vases of red roses adorned every table and the spa was chock-a-block with lucky couples enjoying being pampered. Merrin hardly had time to come up for air, as her to-do list seemed only to grow in length. She stared at the rather corny card with a rabbit on the front holding a large heart – hardly romantic, and grabbed in a hurry from the Tesco garage. It now nestled under the reception desk, while she wondered what to write to Miguel. As she reached for a pen she decided to go with something comic, still keen to avoid the romantic, mushy stuff, which had no real currency and could fade as quickly as the ink dried. She had just started to write when the hotel door opened and a mane of tawny blonde hair appeared. Putting the lid back on the pen, she rested it on the card and painted on her greeting smile.
The woman was about her age, but beautiful. Shiny and polished in a way that made Merrin wish she wasn’t always in a navy wool trouser suit, white shirt and the gold-and-navy cravat favoured by the hotel chain that issued her uniform.
‘Hello! Hello! God, it’s cold out there.’ The woman dumped two large leather overnight bags on the floor and rubbed the tops of her arms. ‘I should warn you to prepare for chaos!’ she said lightly, as she trod the two shallow steps and swept further into the reception.