Just Haven't Met You Yet(83)
“And you will take your father’s box?” Sue asks.
I feel like saying I don’t want it, that I don’t want anything that belonged to my dad now, real or imagined.
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t have room to take it on the plane. Plus, I came here on a bike.”
But Monica has already picked up the box from the floor and is walking toward the front door with it.
“I’ll nip you back in the car, we’ll sling your bike in the boot. You’ll have a proper look through, see what you want to keep, and throw the rest away. It will all just get put on the pyre when we pop our clogs otherwise. Sue, come on, polish off that piece of cake, and I’ll drop you back to yours en route.”
My heart sinks at the responsibility of throwing away the last vestiges of a man’s life. But then I look up at Sue and Monica, feel the warmth these women have shown me, and think of the family I am yet to meet. Something Ted said comes back to me—about love being a chain letter through the generations. Perhaps Dad and the coin caused a link to break, but now I am here, and I can pick up the pieces of the chain once more.
Chapter 27
We drop Sue off at her house in St. Ouen’s village. I untangle myself from the bicycle handlebars to say good-bye and she promises to be in touch. As we pull into Ted’s driveway, Monica leans over from the driver’s seat and attaches an enamel pin to my jacket. It has a picture of a hedgehog on it, and beneath are the words “I just needle little love.”
“There, that’s better, isn’t it?” she says. “Stay in touch, chickadee. It’s nice to know I have more family left out there in the world who don’t have prickles, ha-ha!”
“There’s one thing I don’t understand, Monica,” I say before getting out. “How did I come to have both pieces of the coin? In Dad’s letters, he didn’t want Mum to have it.”
“I don’t know,” she says. “Annie claimed he sent it to her before the accident, but I’m afraid Sue was never convinced she didn’t get it by deceit.”
Monica sees my face fall and reaches out to pat my hand. “Don’t let the ending ruin their story. They still met through the coin, fell in love, had you, loved you—both of them. The rest? Well”—Monica sighs—“maybe life’s more about carving out happy chapters than finding a single happy ending.”
She is right, it can’t all be about where it ends, and as I look across the car at her, I decide Aunt Monica isn’t the least bit mad.
* * *
*
Once I’ve taken Sandy’s bike back to her place, I stow the box of Dad’s things in the cottage. I want to change before going out to meet Jasper, but just as I’ve taken my clothes off, I hear another car on the gravel. Throwing on my dressing gown, I rush over to the window to see who it is. I hope it might be Ted, but it’s a black cab, and I squint to see who is inside.
A red-brogued foot stretches out of one door—a perfect made-to-measure camel-colored petite trouser suit, huge sunglasses, the neat black chignon—Suki!
I dart away from the cottage window. I don’t know why I’m trying to hide—clearly, she’s here to see me. What in the name of Beelzebub is she doing here? Then I remember my lost phone, my unchecked emails. I dare another peek through the window. Suki is sniffing the air as though trying to pick up my scent.
“Suki?” I sidestep away from the window and into the open doorway.
She lifts her sunglasses and squints down at me, then says something to the cabdriver and he turns off the engine.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” I ask, suddenly very aware it’s twelve noon and I’m currently wearing a dressing gown.
“Looking for you, Little Miss Missing in Action. I’m glad you at least emailed with your new”—she gestures toward the cottage—“whereabouts.”
“That’s sweet of you to worry, Suki,” I say, folding my arms across my chest. “I lost my phone, but I’m not missing.”
“Well, there’s been a change of plan, darling—we have a huge suitcase brand that wants to sponsor this story. Travella luggage came on board last night,” says Suki, holding up a smart leather holdall. “Love Life US loves it too. They want to use the story for their launch next week, but they want it ASAP, so we need photos today, then we’ll send them the whole package with copy on Monday. This is bigger than simply our little family now, Laura. With you going off grid, I thought I needed to come and take control—steer this rudderless ship.”
I usher Suki over to the patio furniture outside Ted’s place. I’m not going to invite her into the cottage and make her sit on my unmade bed. She brushes off a chair with the back of her hand before sitting down.
“So, is he on board, this chap of yours?” Suki asks. “I was worried for a moment, when you went MIA, that he might have murdered you.”
I’m genuinely touched.
“Ah, right, no, definitely alive. I’ve literally been offline for about”—I look for my watch, but it’s not there—“well, less than eighteen hours. But in answer to your question, yes, Jasper is on board.”
“Good, though a murder piece might have got us some clicks too, hey?” She tries to grin, at least I think it’s a grin; it looks like a hiccup got stuck in her nostrils. “I jest, Laura; I’m immensely pleased you haven’t been murdered.”