To Love and Be Loved(39)

She missed her family and friends with a depth that mirrored her pain; thinking of them before she fell asleep, sending silent apologies out into the night sky and hoping her words might fall into their ears as they slept. Trying and failing to bury the guilt of what she had put them through, the money they had needlessly spent and their hurt that she had all but abandoned them. But abandon them she must if she had any hope of recovering the pieces of her heart and her dignity.

In these quieter moments before sleep, she was reminded that her world had been cleaved open and her dream of building a life in Port Charles with her very own family, hand in hand with the man she loved, was no more than just that: a dream. Unbidden, she replayed the day of her ‘almost’ wedding over and over, knowing that if things had been different, she would right now be a newly-wed, making food for her husband, learning the lie of her new home, sitting in front of a fire with him of an evening. Nipping back to Kellow Cottages each day to catch up on the gossip with the women who had shaped her and happy, so happy, to know that each night she got to sleep in the arms of Digby. She missed him with a physical ache. This new life at Milbury Court felt very much like starting from scratch.

But, oh, how her bones mourned for home! Equally, she missed the crisp Cornish air, the view out over the cove, sitting on the harbour wall with her bare legs dangling in the sun, the rickety wooden stairs of Kellow Cottages, a cup of tea in front of the range and bickering with Ruby. She missed all of it – not that she would ever confess as much to her parents, knowing this information would only make them fret.

‘Hey, Mum.’ Merrin lay back on her bed and held her phone to her ear. Closing her eyes, she pictured falling into one of her mother’s enveloping hugs and felt the chill of loneliness shiver through her.

‘Hello, my darlin’! How lovely to hear your voice!’

‘And yours. I’ve got some news,’ she began.

‘You’re coming home?’ her mum interjected with such excitement it was enough to fold Merrin’s gut with longing and guilt.

‘No, Mum, I can’t.’

‘I know.’ There was a drawn-out pause. ‘It feels a shame that you let the likes of the Mortimers or some petty gossip keep you away.’

Merrin rubbed her temples, unwilling to have the conversation yet again. ‘I can’t face it. I’m not ready.’ She closed her eyes again, feeling her heart beat a little too fast. ‘What’s it like when you see the Mortimers? How has it been between you and Loretta?’ She managed to say the woman’s name now with ease; gone was any consideration of what might be polite or prudent.

Heather drew breath. ‘I don’t really see her too much, love. I mean, no more than to wave at or nod good morning to. And it’s a little awkward, but it’s fine. We always got on well, really. Friends in our own way. And we live in a small place, so . . .’ Merrin refrained from adding that she didn’t have to tell her that. ‘Plus, I don’t work for her any more. I handed in my notice.’

‘You gave up your job? Oh, Mum.’ She hung her head, knowing this had been kept from her and smarting with the realisation that her mum and dad had lost a large chunk of income. ‘It’s all my fault.’

‘No, it isn’t, it’s Digby’s fault.’

‘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.’