Authors: Leslie K Rose
Chapter 14
They spent the entire afternoon at Secret Cove. The seals didn't show themselves again, but that didn't seem to matter. The weather was perfect, the location was perfect, and the company—likewise. Anne was surprised she could talk so openly with Tom—after all, she'd known him for little over a week. It felt longer—it felt as though she'd known him all her life. Since Susan's death, Tom hadn't had a
real
conversation with anyone. Talking to Anne was easy; she was a good listener. She had a good heart, and genuinely seemed to care about what he had to say.
“We'd better get back.” Anne stood up.
Tom checked his watch; he was surprised to find the time had passed so quickly.
The walk back up the path was much harder going than the descent had been, although it did help that the picnic basket was lighter.
“I'd like to come here again before I leave,” Tom said. He seemed to struggle with the climb more than Anne who took it in her stride.
“Now you know where it is, you'll be able to come back any time you like. It's hit and miss whether or not you'll see the seals though.”
“I was hoping you might come with me again.”
Anne had her back to Tom, so he didn't see the smile which flitted across her face.
“I'll have to see. I have work all week. There are lots of other spots on the island that are worth visiting.”
“Are they as nice as Secret Cove?”
“They're all beautiful, but this is my favourite.
“Anne! Stop!” Tom shouted.
She immediately tugged on the reins.
“It’s Katherine.” He pointed to the figure running up the slope towards them.
“Something’s wrong.” Anne was already stepping down from the carriage.
“It's David...” an out-of-breath Katherine shouted.
“What's happened? Where is he?” Anne ran towards her sister. Tom was a few steps behind.
“He slipped.” Katherine was red in the face, and struggling to catch her breath, as she pointed back down the slope towards the cliff edge. “He was running after his kite, and he slipped.”
“No!” Anne screamed.
“He’s okay,” Katherine said. “I’m not sure how long he can hold on.”
Anne and Tom began to run down the slope. Tom was the faster of the two, so arrived at the cliff edge first.
“Help me, Tom.” David’s voice was weak and filled with fear.
“It's going to be all right.” Tom tried to sound calm—it wasn't easy.
“David! David, are you okay?” Anne was at Tom’s side now.
“My leg hurts.”
“We’re here now. Everything’s going to be all right,” Anne said.
Tom hoped David wouldn’t notice the tremor in Anne’s voice.
“Katherine, go and get Dad!”
“I want to stay...”
“Just do it.”
An already exhausted Katherine, turned around, and began to hurry back up the slope towards the path.
“What are we going to do?” Anne kept her voice low, so David wouldn’t hear.
Tom had been studying the situation, and could see only one option open to them.
“I’ll climb down to that ledge just below David. If I can get below him, I’ll be able to push him up a few feet—enough so you can pull him up and over the edge.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Anne protested.
“We don’t have a choice.”
“We should wait for Dad.”
“Tom, help me please. I’m going to fall,” David pleaded.
“I'm coming.” Tom began to lower himself slowly over the edge.
“Be careful,” Anne said.
Tom used his foot to find suitable footholds; he dare not look down. Fortunately, that section of the cliff wasn't as steep as further along the coast. David had only slipped a few feet before coming to rest on the rock which formed a small ledge.
“It's going to be okay,” Tom said. His words were directed at himself as much as to David.
“Be careful, Tom.” Anne was lying on the grass—looking down over the edge.
After a few minutes, and a couple of rather hairy moments when he'd almost lost his footing, Tom was just below David.
“Can you put your foot on my hand?” Tom asked.
“I'm scared.”
“It'll be okay. I'll push you up, so Anne can grab you.”
“I'll fall.”
“You won't—I promise. Put your foot on my hand.”
“Go on David. I'll grab you,” Anne said.
David moved his foot, so it was resting against Tom's hand. Tom pushed hard into his footholds, gripped tight with his other hand, and pushed against the sole of David's foot.
“Lift your hand up!” Anne called.
“I can't reach.” David was crying.
“Just a little higher Tom.” Anne stretched her arm as far as she could. Her fingertips were only inches from David's.
Tom felt as though his shoulder would pop out of its socket, but from somewhere he found a few more ounces of strength.
“I've got him,” Anne yelled.
Tom pushed, Anne pulled, and David scrambled up as best he could.
“Is he all right?” Arthur Mason shouted. He was running down the slope. His wife was a few steps behind him.
“He's okay,” Anne said. “Just a few bruises.”
Jean Mason threw her arms around her son.
“What were you doing?” she managed to ask through her tears. “You know not to go near the cliff's edge.”
“The kite blew away.”
His mother pulled David even closer to her—hugging him as tight as she could.
“Thank you, Tom.” Arthur said.
Tom nodded. He didn't have enough energy to speak. He was lying on the grass at the edge of the cliff—exhausted after climbing back up.
After Jean Mason had satisfied herself that her son's injuries were no more than a few bruises, they all made their way back up to the path. Katherine, David and their parents travelled home in the carriage. Anne and Tom followed on foot. As the carriage moved away Tom overheard David say:
“What about my kite?”
Chapter 15
By Wednesday of his second week, Tom had worked his way through all but five of the generators which he was scheduled to service. If he pushed himself, he could probably finish the remainder by Thursday evening. That wasn't his plan. He was in no hurry to leave West Isle. If someone had told him he'd feel this way when he arrived, he'd have laughed in their face. He had thought, at first, that he'd miss his mobile phone, the Internet and TV. He couldn't have been any more wrong. After the first day, he'd barely given any of those a second thought. Why would he watch TV when he could enjoy the conversation around the Mason's dining table? Why would he go online when he could explore the island? Not having a mobile phone had been a definite plus. It would have been much harder to 'stretch' the job out if the office had been able to keep tabs on his progress. As it was, he'd made only two telephone calls back to base. In his last one, he'd told them to expect him next Tuesday. There was a boat scheduled to make the crossing to the mainland on Monday—he planned to take that. He hoped the weather would be kinder to him on the way back.
Tom had pulled out all of the stops that morning. He had two generators to service that day, but had been determined to finish by two o' clock. He'd persuaded Anne to go with him to Secret Cove again. He'd offered to meet her back at Marley, but she’d insisted she’d collect him from his last job of the day. He checked his watch—almost two thirty. Maybe she’d been delayed on the farm? It wasn’t as though she could call him on his mobile. What if something had happened to her on the way over to collect him—what if the horse had bolted? Ever since Susan had died, he’d found himself imagining all manner of catastrophes which might befall someone close to him. He could see no point in hanging around. If he started to walk back to the farm, he was bound to meet Anne somewhere en-route.
He didn’t. By the time he arrived at Marley, he was beginning to worry. What had happened to her? Had she simply forgotten? The carriage was in the farmyard. What was going on? He rushed to the farmhouse where he found the door open. Anne was seated at the table. Her mother and father were standing behind her.
“Is everything all right?” Tom already sensed it wasn't.
“Tom. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t let you know.”
“Know what? What’s wrong?”
“Alex Williams has died,” Arthur said.
“He’d seemed much better,” Jean said. “Heart attack, apparently.”
“I’m so sorry.” Tom didn’t know the man, but he remembered Anne had spoken fondly of him. As well as being the island’s electrician/engineer, Alex Williams had been the unofficial kids’ entertainer on the island. He'd provided the entertainment for all kinds of parties for as long as anyone could remember.
Tom had expected dinner to be a quiet, solemn affair. And, it was at first, but then the Masons began to relate their memories of Alex Williams. The mood lifted as everyone told stories of the various parties where ‘Uncle Alex’ had provided the entertainment. He’d been able to turn his hand to most things it seemed: clown, puppeteer, juggler… The consensus around the table was that he hadn’t been particularly good at any of them, but that hadn’t mattered. Indeed, it had only added to his charm.
“When’s the funeral?” Jean asked after Katherine and David had been sent to their rooms to do their homework.
“I’m not sure,” Arthur said. “Probably Monday.” He turned to Tom. “When do you go back?”
“Monday morning.”
Tom helped Anne clear the table, and wash the pots. Her mother and father had gone to convey their condolences to Maggie Williams.
“I’m sorry we didn’t make it to Secret Cove,” Anne said.
“Never mind. Maybe we can go later in the week or at the weekend.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to. Mum and Dad may want to help Mrs Williams. I’ll have to pick up the slack here.”
“Of course.” Tom forced a smile.
“You must be looking forward to getting back to the mainland on Monday,” Anne said.
Their eyes met for the briefest of moments. There was so much he wanted to say, but couldn’t.
“I’m going to miss West Isle, and...” He hesitated. “... and your family.”
Alex William’s death cast a shadow across the island. It seemed to Tom that everyone had a story to tell about Alex. The funeral was confirmed for Monday afternoon, three hours after Tom was due to leave the island.
Tom saw Anne every evening at dinner, but as she’d predicted, she wasn’t able to get away from the farm. The weather for the last few days of his stay reflected the mood on the island. Low cloud blanketed the hillside; the light drizzle refused to go away.
Chapter 16
Tom had packed his case. When he'd arrived on West Isle, he never would have believed it possible he'd be sad to leave. It wasn't going to be easy to settle back into life on the mainland. He sighed as he thought about the traffic jams, the noise, the constant phone calls and emails which awaited him. He'd felt more alive during the last week than he had at any other time in his life. He was going to miss the islanders too. Without exception, everyone he'd come into contact with had gone out of their way to be friendly. He would especially miss the Masons—they'd welcomed him to the island as if he was family. And then there was Anne. He'd spent more time with her than with anyone else during his stay. She was possibly the kindest, nicest person he'd ever met. She was pretty too, but without a hit of vanity. Since Susan died, he'd barely noticed other women. He hadn't been sure he ever would again. He'd loved Susan with all of his heart—he still did. Nothing would ever change that. He'd known Anne barely any time at all. And yet, even in that short time, she'd found a place in his heart. Not that it mattered—he could never tell her. How could he? She'd think he was crazy.
“Your last dinner with us, Tom.” Jean Mason joined the rest of the family at the table.
“I'll miss your delicious food,” he said. “And the company of course.”
“Are you looking forward to going back home?” Katherine asked.
“He isn't looking forward to the boat crossing.” David laughed.
“David!” Jean frowned at her son.
“He's right. I'm not looking forward to the crossing. If I'm honest, I'm not looking forward to going back to the mainland. I'm not sure I'll be able to cope after the tranquillity of the island.”
“You're welcome to visit us any time,” Jean said.
“That's very kind.”
Tom noticed that Anne was much quieter than usual. She didn't seem to have her usual spark—maybe she was still upset about Alex Williams.
“I'll say goodbye now,” Jean said when it came time for Tom to go back to his cottage. “I'll be helping with the funeral arrangements in the morning, so I won't be around. Anne or Katherine will make breakfast.”
“Thanks again for everything,” Tom said.
He was almost at the cottage when he heard the footsteps. Anne was running across the yard.
“Are you okay?” he asked, when she reached him. “You seemed quiet tonight.”
“Yes. I'm fine,” she said. “It's just... ”
“What?”
“I'm going to miss you.” She gazed at her feet as though embarrassed by her own words.
“I'm going to miss you too.”
She looked up and, for a moment, their eyes met.
“I'd better get back.” She turned around, and started back to the farmhouse.
Tom watched as she ran across the yard, and disappeared into the house. He wanted to go after her—he wanted to tell her how he felt. Instead, he returned to his cottage. Try as he might, he didn't get off to sleep until the early hours of the morning.
When the alarm woke him the next morning, Tom could barely find the will power to climb out of bed. He'd had little sleep, but that wasn't the reason. He knew that, by the end of the day, he'd be back home. Or at least back to a place he knew as home. West Isle felt more like a home than anywhere he'd ever lived before. And yet, in a few hours time he'd climb aboard a boat, and wave it goodbye—probably forever.
“Morning, Tom.” Katherine was watching over bacon and sausages, which were trying to spit fat at her.
“Morning.”
“Morning, Tom.” David had a toy car on the table—a sure sign his parents weren't at home.
“Have your mum and dad gone over to Mrs William's already?”
“Yes—Anne too. It's just us three this morning.”
His heart sank, and his appetite immediately disappeared, but he could hardly refuse breakfast after Katherine had prepared it.
“Dad said he'll be back in time to take you to the quay,” Katherine said, as she placed the plate in front of him.
“Your dad's taking me?”
“That's what he said.” Katherine joined Tom and her brother at the table.
Tom's last hope had just been dashed. He'd assumed Anne would take him to the boat.
**************
Since breakfast, Tom had held onto the hope that Anne might come back with her father—she didn't. Arthur Mason was dressed in a black suit.
“How's Mrs Williams?” Tom asked.
“Not so good, but she'll have all of her friends with her. We'll make sure she has all the support she needs.”
Tom knew it wasn't an idle promise. The islanders supported one another—they were one big family.
“The crossing shouldn't be too bad,” Arthur said as they approached the quay.
Tom glanced out to sea. It was much calmer than it had been on his arrival. That should have raised his spirits, but it didn't.
“I'd better be going.” Tom offered his hand. “Thanks again for your hospitality.”
“Our pleasure.”
The two men shook hands.
Tom picked up his case, and turned towards the boat.
“Tom!” Arthur called after him. “Wait a minute. Before you leave, there's something I want to ask you.”