‘Is there anything I can do?’ He folded the paper under his arm and reached for his van keys.
Ruby shook her head and Bella squeezed her hand.
‘Don’t think so.’ She gave a grateful smile.
‘Did they say what it might be or if it was serious?’
Ruby held his gaze, her eyes teary. ‘She had a water infection and they thought she might just need antibiotics. Anyway, Dr Levington came out and she was very confused and had a high temperature and they’ve taken her in, more as a precaution, I think. Mum and Dad have gone with her. I’m just about to call Merrin and tell her.’
‘She’s one tough old bird is Ellen Kellow. Don’t you worry.’
He liked how Bella tried to soothe her friend’s anguish.
‘You want me to drive you to the hospital?’ He displayed the keys in his palm, knowing he would do anything for this girl who so loved her family.
She shook her head. ‘Mum said it wouldn’t do for us all to crowd the place when the nurses and whatnot are trying to do their job. I’m going to stay here.’
‘I got to go,’ Bella sighed. ‘Who knows how much longer Luuk will be here before he gets the call and has to take off. Let me know how Granny Kellow is.’
Ruby nodded. ‘’Course.’
‘Are you going to miss him?’ Jarvis teased.
Her response, however, was anything but jovial. Bella hopped off the wall and stared at him with tears in her eyes. Then, putting her hand flat over her heart and with a voice shot through with emotion, she said, ‘More than I can possibly say, Jarv.’ Then she turned and walked briskly up the road.
‘Reckon she’s got it bad,’ Ruby observed, as she, too, jumped down on to the cobbles.
‘It happens. And often when you least expect it. Do you know what I mean?’ He held her gaze as his heart thudded.
‘’Appen I do know what you mean.’ The corners of her mouth lifted in a half-smile. Her question when it came was quiet. ‘Will you . . . will you stay here with me today, Jarv? I don’t want to be on my own.’
‘’Course I will.’ He reached for her hand, which fitted nicely inside his own.
‘We can go shopping another day.’
‘We can that.’
As they stepped over the threshold of Kellow Cottages, he smiled at her; this loud-mouthed beauty stood out to him like something brightly painted in a world of sepia. It was in that moment he realised that he had been holding a candle for a memory, not a person. Merrin was an idea, but her sister . . . she was the real deal. It was true, there were many things he missed when he was on the water, but mainly, he now saw with clarity, what he missed was Ruby Mae.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MERRIN
‘Oh, hey Mum, I’m glad you’ve called.’ Merrin tried to keep the bubble of excitement from her voice, knowing it would only invite a barrage of questions that she would be unable to answer to her mother’s satisfaction – if, that was, she confessed to one measly kiss received only an hour or so since.
Ooh! So, do you like him?
I don’t really know yet . . .
Are you seeing him again?
I don’t know, it’s early days . . .
When can we meet him?
Not any time soon, Mum . . .
Although she had to admit, it had been a very good kiss, one with no small amount of promise. Smiling at the memory, she was still able to feel the soft bruise of contact on her lips, over which she now ran the pad of her index finger. It felt good to have a diversion like Miguel; a diversion that lit a small flame of hope inside her that she had thought was all but extinguished for good.
‘I was going to call you. How’s Gran? Ruby said you were with her. Please tell her I’m sending all my love and I hope she’s feeling better. Does she need anything? Should I send a magazine or just flowers?’
‘No, no, love . . .’ Heather breathed deeply, cutting her off. ‘That’s what I’m calling to say, little Merry. I am so sorry, but she . . . she’s gone, darlin’, gone.’
Suddenly all the excitement of that one kiss was wiped out in an instant. ‘What? What do you mean?’ She sat down hard on the edge of the table in the staff canteen and let her breathing steady. The suit jacket of her uniform felt constricting around the armpits, and the neck of her blouse tight around her neck, where only moments before they had fitted perfectly. The sound of her mum trying to hide her tears was enough to twist Merrin’s heart. It felt as if time slowed a little and the rest of the world fell silent as she listened to her mother’s words.
‘She passed away an hour ago; I’ve just left Dad with her. To say his goodbyes.’
‘Oh no, Mum! No. But I thought . . .’ Merrin closed her eyes and placed her palm over her face, wishing she were standing by her side, holding her close at a time when she knew that physical contact would make all the difference for them both. ‘What happened? Ruby said she was only taken in as a precaution; I thought she was going to be fine!’ Her voice was raised, not intentionally shouting at her mother, but as a means of venting her utter frustration that this was happening at all. Sadness rolled over her, covering her in a dark, sticky pulp that drew joy from her pores and seeped into her veins. In an instant, the sunshine seemed to have dulled and the air thickened.
‘She just slipped away, Merry. No one was expecting it and, despite how horrible it is for us all, it really is quite wonderful that she left us mid-sleep. Peacefully.’
‘It doesn’t feel real, Mum. Or wonderful.’
‘I know, darlin’, I know. Everyone here at Truro Hospital has been amazing. Daddy is in shock, as you would expect; we both are, really, but I was just talking to the ward sister, who told me that even though it might not feel like it right now, the way Ellen went was the biggest gift to us all.’
‘Doesn’t feel much like a gift.’ Merrin sniffed, aware of the juvenile tone to her response.
‘Not right now, but when you process it all later, you might think so: no long-drawn-out illness, no galling treatment, no pain or violent accident, nothing like that.’
‘It all feels . . .’ She looked up through the little window and out over the treetops, which rustled in the breeze.
‘I know, my love. I’ve got to go. I promised I’d call your sister. I’ll call you again later.’
‘Okay, Mum.’ Ridiculously, she wished to keep talking to Heather – wished she could click her heels and be with her family – well, she half-wished that; the other half still felt queasy at the prospect of being anywhere near home.
‘And, Merry, listen to me, I’d rather you didn’t come rattling down the motorway and then back again, all tired. I’ll only worry, and there’s nothing to be done here. Not much will happen for a few days, and then it’s going to be a very small funeral. Only us. No pomp or ceremony, in and out fast as we can. The least fuss. It’s what she wanted. She made that clear often enough.’ Her mum’s voice broke. ‘She’d say the same thing: don’t you worry, little Merry, just do what you gotta do. And never forget, we love you so much. I know that you are here in heart, always. We’re so proud of you.’
‘I’m going to miss her.’ She sniffed. ‘But the thought of coming back . . .’