Her telephone buzzed with an incoming call from Bella.
‘Bit early for you?’ she yawned.
‘Bit late, actually, haven’t been to bed yet!’
She could tell by her friend’s excited tone that this fact was a cause for celebration.
‘Hmm, so you’ve either got yourself a job with a nightshift or you met a man; let me guess . . .’ If things were different and she was living happily in Kellow Cottages, then Bella would right about now be knocking on her front door and they would be sharing this news face to face and, more than likely, she would have been present when her best friend had actually met this man and would therefore be part of the story. And that really summed up what it was like to live away: she felt like she was no longer part of the story. Excluded. Written out.
‘Oh, my God, Merry, he’s gorgeous!’
She dug deep to find a smile, not wanting to taint her friend’s lovely news with her own melancholy. ‘Gorgeous-looking or gorgeous person?’
‘Both! He’s Dutch, tall, a yachtie. He crews on fancy boats for people with too much money and too little time, takes them from port to port and then hops off when the owner arrives. Travels all over the world. And right now, luckily for me, he’s hopped off in Port Charles!’ Bella squealed her excitement.
‘Where did you meet him?’ She wanted the detail.
‘In the pub, where d’you think?’
Bella had a point.
‘What’s his name?’
‘Luuk, and he’s blonde and funny and laid back and—’
‘Steady there, Bells, it sounds like you’ve got it bad.’
‘I have! I’ve only known him for a few days, but you know when you meet someone and you just know it’s more than a little fling or something insignificant? And you keep waiting for them to do or say something that really puts you off, but they don’t! They just get more wonderful the more you know them. And you keep waiting for the bubble to burst, but it doesn’t.’
‘I do.’
She pictured the day Digby had asked her to marry him, how passionately they had kissed each other before going their separate ways to tell their parents the glorious news. Having run all the way home, she had paused at the open front door of the cottage, catching her breath, taking a moment to conjure confidence, wondering what she might say to her parents. It felt huge, an admission that she was no longer their little Merry, but a grown woman who had sex, was about to wear an engagement ring and sometime soon would be waltzing up the aisle of St Michael’s. But nothing, nothing, could deter her from her course because what she had felt for Digby was an all-consuming, unconditional love.
‘’Course you do. Sorry, love.’
‘Why are you sorry? Don’t be! It’s great news!’
‘I just . . .’ Bella paused. ‘I feel awkward because, even though it’s early days, I’ve met a bloke and I’m happy and I know you are still . . .’
‘Yeah, I’m still . . . but that can’t stop you from living, loving! I want you to be happy, Bells.’
‘And me you. Wish I could give you a hug.’
Merrin closed her eyes and bit her cheek. ‘I could do with one this morning.’
‘I worry about you, Merry.’ Bella’s words were unexpected and sent a jolt of sadness through Merrin that made her shiver. She drew her knees up on the bed and pulled the duvet over them to feel cosy.
I worry about me, too, sometimes . . .
‘Well, there’s no need to worry, Bells. I’m fine. I work in a lovely place and my room’s nice enough and if I have to be away from Port Charles, then it’s as good a place to be as anywhere.’
‘And do you have to be away from Port Charles? I miss you.’ The note of hope in Bella’s voice was heart-wrenching.
‘I miss you too. But I do need to be away. I still can’t stand the thought of everyone talking about me like they do Lizzie Lick.’
‘Goodness, Merry, you are nothing like Lizzie, and if I were you, I wouldn’t care so much what people say or think, love – let them talk. You can’t live your life like that. You have to do what makes you happy.’
Her friend’s words did little to reassure her. ‘I am happier, getting there.’
She looked out of the window, watching the peacock strut on the lawn. She was yet to see him with his tail in full fan, but was more than content to watch him majestically saunter with his arrogant gait. The peahens stared in envy at his trailing skirt of teal and gold, his glossy blue body shimmering and his headdress crown that never slipped.
‘Have you got a grand room in Thornbury? I can’t imagine sleeping in a castle.’
‘I don’t exactly. I’m in an annex, but it’s still quite grand, I suppose. Not much in it, but a nice double bed and a great view of the garden through the French doors. We have peacocks!’
‘So? We have seagulls!’ Bella retaliated.
‘But peacocks are beautiful. Not that I’ve ever seen one with its tail up; I’d love to, mind.’
‘Baby seagulls are cute!’
‘A peacock doesn’t try and nick your chips.’
‘True, but when a sailor sees a seagull he knows land is close! And that’s pretty awesome,’ Bella added triumphantly. ‘Sailors like Luuk, who might use them to help find their way back to me.’
‘Bella, you are worrying me, coming over all poetical! It’s not like you. Mind you, I can talk, I’ve been reading Shakespeare.’
‘Shakespeare? As in Romeo and Juliet?’
‘Yes. What other Shakespeare is there?’ She laughed.
‘And you like it?’
‘I do, if I go slow and get into the rhythm of it. I used to think it was boring.’
‘I still do.’ Bella humphed. ‘And for the record, I’ve never felt like this before, about anyone.’
‘Wowsers! This is big news. How long is he staying?’
‘Not long enough however long it is. Ruby reckons he looks shifty, but then she suspects everyone.’
‘Sometimes with good reason.’ She thought of her sister’s dealings with her ex-fiancé. It was a painful truth. ‘Not that she’s that happy with me right now. She’s still being off.’ Merrin was wary of pulling their friend into the fray, knowing that when she and Ruby were out of sync it was Bella who felt the repercussions.
‘She’s . . . she’s busy at the fishmonger’s and goes out most nights.’
‘Bella, I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but it’s a fact. She avoids talking to me.’ It was hard to put into words, even to her best friend.
‘I think she’s painted herself into a corner, playing the part of the spiky, angry older sister for so long that she doesn’t know how to reinvent herself.’
‘I wish she’d try; we’re sisters!’
‘I know that. I think she’s actually very sensitive, and in hiding that, she can come across as a bit brusque.’
‘A bit?’ Merrin laughed, before plucking up courage to ask the question that would not stay quiet in her brain, rattling around until she gave voice to it. ‘Have you . . . have you seen Digby?’
She heard her friend’s slow intake of breath, as if she were deciding whether or not to come clean. ‘Yes. Once.’