Love Mends (4 page)

Chapter 10

Tom had set the alarm to ensure he'd be up in time to eat breakfast with the family. Five thirty might have seemed ridiculously early, but it would be worth it for a Mason family breakfast.

“Thanks for the sandwiches last night.” Tom put the empty plate on the sink.

“Did you have problems with the cooker?” Katherine grinned.

“Katherine!” her mother snapped.

“That cooker has me beat. Give me a generator any day.”

“You're welcome to join us for all of your meals while you're on the island,” Jean said.

“After last night, I think I might do that. You must let me pay you though.”

“We wouldn't hear of it,” Arthur said. “You're a guest.”

Arthur Mason wasn't a man to argue with.

“Thank you. That's very kind.”

“Where will you be working today?” Jean asked. She was already seated at the table. Anne and Katherine appeared to be sharing breakfast duties between them.

“I thought I might take a look at some of the generators down in the village. I'll probably begin with the church hall.”

“If you can be ready in time, Anne will give you a ride in the carriage when she takes Katherine and David to school.”

“Hurray!” David shouted. “No walking today.”

“Don't get used to it,” his mother said. “The exercise is good for you.”

“Did you do similar work when you were based in the factory? Arthur asked.

“I actually built the generators then.”

“No wonder you know your way around them. Why did you decide to become a field engineer?”

Tom hesitated. “Personal reasons.” His words were barely audible.

“Sorry Tom,” Arthur said. “I didn't mean to pry.”

“It's okay. It's still rather raw.”

“No need to explain.”

“I was engaged to be married.”

Katherine turned to look at Anne, but her sister's gaze was fixed on Tom.

“Susan.” Tom said, but then hesitated again. “Her name was Susan. We'd planned to marry later this year, but... ”

There was a long moment's silence while Tom composed himself.

“She died.”

He could sense everyone's eyes were on him, and he expected someone to ask the inevitable question: how?

The question never came.

“I'm so sorry,” Jean said.

“After Susan died, I wanted to get away.” Tom spoke slowly—struggling with each word. “Taking the field engineer's job meant I would spend most of my time on the road. I thought it would give me the chance to decide what I wanted to do next.”

 “Have you decided?” Katherine said. Anne gave her sister a disapproving look which went unnoticed.

“Not yet.” Tom didn't quite manage a smile. “It's been harder than I thought it would be.”

Chapter 11

Even though the village hall was a newer building, its generator was an old model, which didn't appear to have been serviced for some time. Tom knew generators inside out, which was just as well because he was working on auto-pilot. The conversation over breakfast had opened old wounds. He hadn't talked about Susan for almost a year. He'd swapped jobs because he hadn't wanted to be around things or people which reminded him of her. It wasn't that he wanted to forget her—he'd never do that. He needed to escape the pain. He needed time to heal.

“Sorry,” Anne said. “I didn't mean to make you jump.”

“Hi there. I didn't hear you come in.” Tom checked the time. It was midday already. Where had the morning gone?

“I thought you might like these sandwiches.”

“Thanks. I was going to call in the general store, but I'm sure these will be much nicer.”

“How's it going?” Anne asked.

“This old girl is well past her sell-by date. She really should have been scrapped some time ago.”

“I don't think the island council has enough cash for a new one.”

“Don't worry. I think I can squeeze a few more years out of her.”

“That's good. I'd better get back.”

“Won't you stay and share these?”

“I can't eat your lunch.”

“There are too many sandwiches here for me—especially after the breakfast you and Katherine made this morning. Please, stay a while.”

“I should get back to work.”

“Don't you get a lunch hour?”

“I usually eat on the go at lunch time. Still, I suppose I could stay a few minutes.”

“Here.” He held out the sandwiches.

“Are you sure?”

“Certain.”

Tom pulled up a couple of old crates for them to sit on.

“I'm sorry if we upset you this morning,” Anne said.

“It's okay. Maybe it's time I talked about it.”

“Had you and Susan been together long?”

“We'd known each other all the way through senior school. She lived a couple of streets away from my house. We'd been going out for almost three years when we got engaged.”

“Has it helped? The new job?”

“I thought so, but now I'm not so sure. Maybe, it would have been better if I'd stayed put, and faced up to things. Still, I'm glad I took the new job—if I hadn't, I would never have come to West Isle.”

Anne smiled.

“What about you?” Tom asked. “What are your plans?” 

“What do you mean?”

“You can't stay on the farm forever.”

“Why not? Marley will eventually pass to me—I'm the oldest child.”

“Would you be happy spending your whole life at Marley?”

“I can't think of anything better.”

How nice it must be, Tom thought, to be so certain of your future. How nice to be so content.

“What about Katherine and David?”

“David says he wants to be an engineer on the mainland, but he's young—he has plenty of time to change his mind. I have no idea what Katherine will do. She's something of a scatterbrain. Do you have brothers or sisters?”

“No. I'm an only child.”

Anne finished her sandwich, and then stood up.

“I'd better be making tracks. See you at dinner.”

“Yeah. See you later.”

Tom watched Anne leave. She was one of the nicest people he'd ever met, and so easy to talk to.

Chapter 12

By the end of the first week, Tom had serviced more than half of the generators he was scheduled to work on. With every day that passed, he found himself more and more taken by the beauty of the island. His initial impression had been one of a cold, dark, foreboding landscape. He’d come to appreciate the island was anything but that—Anne had been right—West Isle was beautiful. Remarkably, he’d already grown used to having neither TV nor Internet. Every evening, he joined the Masons for dinner, which usually stretched on into the night. Long after the food had been eaten, everyone remained around the dining table. Each member of the family would relate the events of the day. Tom joined in too. They discussed all manner of subjects—anything and everything. Back home, most of his conversations were snatched because everyone was always in a hurry. On West Isle, he enjoyed the conversations, he enjoyed the company, but most of all, he enjoyed the laughter. Since Susan had died, he hadn't laughed very often.

It was Sunday morning. Tom had told Jean Mason he intended to have a lie in—he figured that, after a week of getting up ludicrously early, he deserved it. That had been the plan at least. His body had other ideas. He'd become so accustomed to the early starts that he woke at just after seven. He rolled over, and tried for the next fifteen minutes to go back to sleep, but it wasn’t going to happen.

He bathed and dressed before trying his hand at toast again. This time he managed to toast the bread evenly—both sides were scorched black. It was a beautiful morning, so he decided to take his tea and toast onto the small porch in front of the cottage.

“Tom!” David shouted.

Tom returned his wave. He’d never seen the young boy so smartly dressed. Moments later, Katherine joined her younger brother in front of the farmhouse. She too was dressed in what was obviously her Sunday best. Tom chomped on the toast.

“Morning, Tom,” Anne shouted.

Tom hesitated for a moment. He'd barely recognised Anne in the smart, blue dress. Her hair was different too. Instead of hanging loose, she had it taken up in a bun.

“Morning,” he said.

Anne walked over to him.

“I like your hair.”

“Thank you. What did you do to that toast?”

“Not one of my better efforts.”

“Would you like to come to church with us?”

The question caught him off guard and, for the longest moment, he said nothing.

“Thanks, but I’d rather not.”

“That’s okay. I just thought I’d ask.”

“It’s just that... The last time I was in a church was... Susan’s funeral.”

“Sorry. I understand.”

“Maybe we could do something this afternoon,” Tom said—hoping to change the subject. “Unless you’re working.”

“I’m not working today. What would you like to do?”

“You said there was no reason to ever be bored on West Isle. Why don’t you show me some of the things you like to do when you’re not working.”

“Okay.” Anne beamed. “Shall I make us a picnic?”

“That sounds great—no toast though.”

Arthur and Jean greeted Tom, and then the whole family set off on foot to church. Tom was already looking forward to the afternoon.

Chapter 13

“Look! Tom! Look what Dad's made for me.” David came rushing over to the cottage. It was afternoon—the young boy had discarded his church attire, and was dressed in the more familiar jeans and shirt.

“Wow! A kite!” Tom remembered the kite that his father had bought him. It had been nothing like this one. His had been cheap and cheerful—made of plastic. Arthur Mason had obviously made this one himself. It had a wooden frame, and a bright yellow sail. “It's fantastic!”

“Do you want to fly it with me and Katherine?”

“Thanks, but I'm going on a picnic.”

“Okay. See you later.” The young boy rushed off towards Katherine who was waiting for him near the gate.

“Enjoy your picnic,” Katherine shouted.

Just then, Anne appeared in the door of the farmhouse. Tom hurried over to help her lift the picnic basket into the carriage.

“David seems pleased with his kite,” Tom remarked.

“He's been pestering Dad to make him one for months. Dad told him about it after we'd come out of church. I've never seen David move as fast—he ran all the way back home.”

“Did you want to go with David and Katherine for our picnic?”

“No. There's somewhere I'd like you to see.”

“Now I'm intrigued.” Tom climbed into the carriage, and sat alongside Anne. The picnic basket was in the back.

As they set off, Tom saw David running through the field; he was dragging the kite along the floor behind him.”

“I don't think he's quite got the hang of that yet.” Tom laughed.

“Where are we going?” Tom asked when Anne steered the carriage off the main pathway.

“You'll see.”

She drove down the hillside, towards the cliffs. Although Tom knew Anne was an experienced driver, he couldn't help but worry what might happen if the horse decided to bolt. He tried to ignore the images, which flashed through his mind, of them plunging over the cliff.

When they were no more than fifteen metres from the edge, Anne brought the carriage to a halt.

“Is this it?” Tom looked around.

“Nearly. Can you grab the basket?”

Tom did as she asked, and then followed her towards the cliff's edge. Although he didn't have a problem with heights, he wasn't over enthusiastic at the idea of eating a picnic perched on the edge of a cliff. He didn't spot the narrow, winding path which led to the beach until Anne began to lead the way down.

“This is a beautiful spot,” Tom said once they'd reached the bottom of the path.

“It's my favourite place on the island. The only way to get onto this stretch of beach is from the sea or by the path we've just come down. I like to come here when I want to get away from everyone.”

“I could always leave.” Tom smiled.

“I didn't mean you. I'm glad you came with me.”

“Is here okay?” he asked.

“A little further down. There's something I want to show you.”

“Lead the way, madam.”

Anne walked another fifty metres along the beach, and then stopped near a small rock pool.

“Just here,” she said.

“What was it you wanted to show me?” He laid the blanket on the sand, and opened the basket.

“You'll have to wait a while.”

“What for?”

“Are you always so impatient?” She smiled.

**************

The picnic turned out to be a feast.

“Did you make these?” Tom held up a huge scone.

“No, Mum made them.”

“They're delicious,” he said through a mouthful of crumbs.

“Shhhh!” Anne put a finger to her lips.

Tom looked around—trying to figure out why she was shushing him.

“What?” he mouthed.

Anne pointed out to sea.

“I can't see anything,” he whispered. “Oh, wait a minute... ”

He turned to face Anne.

“Is that... ?” He dare hardly speak.

She nodded.

Just then, another small head broke the surface of the water. Then a third and a fourth.

“Wow!” he mouthed.

The two of them watched the seals as they came closer to the shore. Tom held his breath; he was afraid if he breathed too loud he might spook them.

Just as it seemed they would come ashore, they disappeared from sight.

“What happened?” Tom said.

“Something must have scared them.”

“I thought they were going to come onto the beach.”

“They do sometimes. Not for long though.”

“What's this place called?”

“Its official name is Whiteside Bay, but I call it Secret Cove.”

“I like your name better. Thanks for sharing your secret with me.”

He stared out to sea, and appeared lost in his thoughts.

“I'm sorry I didn't go to church with you,” he said at last.

“That's okay. Maybe in time.”

“I don't think so. The memories are too painful.”

Anne nodded. She hoped that, one day, he would feel differently.

“Susan was killed in a hit and run accident,” he said, turning back to face Anne.

She had no idea what to say.

“I haven't told many people.”

“I'm so sorry.” She wanted to reach out and touch his hand, but wasn't sure if she should. “That's terrible.”

“They caught the driver. He'd been drunk at the time of the accident.”

Anne waited for him to continue.

“It was so needless. Such a waste of life.” Tom stood up, picked up a large stone, and skimmed it out to sea.

“I'm sorry to unload on you like this,” he said, trying to force a smile.

“It's okay.” She stood up. “Honestly. I'm glad you told me.”