‘You think I don’t know that? I just need to sit and think and look at the sea. Ain’t too much to ask, is it?’
‘If that’s what you need to do, love, but as far as I can see, you’re in danger of growing gills: you’re either on the sea, in the sea or looking at the bloody sea.’ Heather turned her attention to the salting of her stew.
‘That’s about right. I’m a Cornishman.’ He chuckled.
‘Yes, you are. A proud Cornishman, but you used to be a proud and happy Cornishman. You can’t live sad. You have to live happy!’
He gave a wry smile; this from the woman who wept behind closed doors when she thought no one was listening.
‘Is that right?’
‘Yes! Merrin seems okay, she really does, so it makes no sense to brood. You’ve heard her on the phone and read her letters: she’s working hard and has found her feet. She seems settled.’
‘Didn’t even come home for Christmas.’ He remembered what it had felt like to wake for the first time on a Christmas Day without both his daughters under his roof, and the rather subdued celebrations that had occurred in light of the year they had had.
‘For the love of God, let it go, Ben! That’s her busiest time, she couldn’t get away.’
He snorted, not fully believing this and suspecting that Merrin would use any excuse not to come back to the place that now held such negative associations.
‘That Mortimer boy,’ Heather began. The mention of him enough to make his pulse race.
‘You think I’m sad because of the Mortimer boy?’ He stared at her. ‘No, no, Heather!’ He shook his head. ‘I’m furious because of him, bloody furious at him and his bloody mother with her airs and graces, but I’m sad because my little girl is far away. And I don’t like it one bit! It don’t feel right to me and it never will. She belongs here, at home in Port Charles. And I wouldn’t mind if she’d gone off to pursue something wonderful or because she’d fallen in love or was travelling the world, or for a million other reasons’ – he slipped his arms into his old yellow oilskin jacket – ‘but it’s none of those things. It’s like she was chased out by what he did to her. He made her feel stupid and like she couldn’t hold her head up, and that’s what I can’t get over, that’s what I’m furious about! She felt like she had no choice! All because he led her in a deceitful dance and folk can’t keep their tongues still in their empty heads. Who does she know over that way? No one!’
He chose not to voice the destructive thoughts that disturbed his sleep, nightmares of his little girl living an unhappy life, painting on a smile while wondering what her family were up to in the place she loved. He thought of his loneliness sometimes when he was at sea. It often felt like there was a party going on at home to which he wasn’t invited, like he was forgotten, and it tore him up inside. He hated to think of Merrin suffering similarly.
‘You think I like it?’ Heather’s bottom lip trembled and his heart sank; how he hated causing her a moment of upset. Instantly, he regretted speaking so freely. ‘You think I like living with the heart ripped out of my home? And with you skulking off every five minutes to that damned boat shed to sit with Jarv and Robin like three daft idiots all staring at the water, brooding over what they can’t bloody have?’
‘What can’t Robin have?’ He scratched his scalp; Robin the confirmed bachelor had it all, as far as he could tell. He lived a carefree life, the money in his pocket was his to do with as he pleased, he had a decent roof over his head, friends aplenty and a regular seat at the bar of their local.
‘Nothing. I don’t know.’ She coughed and her face coloured, suggesting to him she might know, but would rather not say. ‘But what I do know is that I’m a bit sick of it. All of it! Lord knows I want her home; I wish I could wave a wand and have her back here with the life she had before she met the bloody boy! Or better still, back to the day I asked her to come cleaning with me up at the Old Rectory and I would instead let her sleep. I’d let her sleep all day and night rather than let their paths cross. But it’s Merrin’s choice and while she’s not here we have to make the best of it.’ His wife bashed the lid on to the casserole pot and abandoned her cooking, before rushing up the stairs.
Ben was about to slam the front door in a matching protest when he looked to the chair in front of the fire and did a double take. Ruby was sitting with a plate of toast on her lap and a magazine open.
‘Sometimes I actually wonder if I’m invisible!’ she yelled.
‘Who said that?’ Ben looked over her head, hoping to make her laugh, before jamming his woolly hat on to his head and leaving.
‘Very funny,’ Ruby smarted.
CHAPTER NINE
MERRIN
Merrin straightened her ponytail and swallowed her nerves before knocking on the door of the wood-panelled study with the fancy coat of arms on the wall and walking in. A real fire roared in the grate. This room was indicative of the whole hotel: warm and cosy. The irony wasn’t lost on her that instead of staying in a place like this on her wedding night and embarking on married life, she was now working in a place like this with marriage something she had dismissed from her mind. Never again would she put on the fanciest frock she had ever worn and head to church. The thought made her shiver. She had learnt the hard way that being asked to marry and actually getting married were two completely different things.
Lionel Milbury Fortescue, the current custodian of Milbury Court, was seated behind his wide oak desk with the leather-inlaid top. His smile was, as ever, broad and his welcome warm.
‘Merrin! Yes, do come in and take a seat.’
She liked how he knew the name of every staff member and took an interest in him or her. It made the place feel like home for people like her who lived in, or at least as home-like as it could be for someone whose heart lived in a wild Cornish cove, one hundred and sixty-odd miles away.
‘How was the golf club dinner? I’ve heard great feedback.’ He clasped his hands on the desktop, his chunky gold signet ring sitting snugly on his little finger.
‘Good, I think,’ she said as she sat down. ‘Got a bit rowdy at the end, but I suppose that’s the sign of a great evening. And by rowdy, I mean loud singing in the bar, not a scrap or anything like that. There was no need to call the police, which is always a plus,’ she clarified.
He laughed. ‘The thought of a scrap breaking out among the octogenarians and great and good of the local golfing community is quite amusing to me.’
‘Well, maybe next year.’ She smiled.
‘Yes.’ He took a deep breath and she shifted in her chair as his expression changed to one of seriousness. She steeled herself for what might come next, suspecting it to be bad news. She had, after all, been called from her shift to his study. ‘It has been quite an unsettled time since you arrived. As sometimes happens, we have been a little topsy turvy in terms of staff and I’m glad to say that we have now found our new restaurant manager, which means that Alison, who as you know has been covering the role, can go back to her job as head waitress, and we have adequate numbers to cover the restaurant, as Maxine is due back from maternity leave.’