Page 19 of The Women at Ocean's End

‘Do you want a lift back or not?’ Jonah pressed the horn on his awful jeep.

‘Sure.’ Ros sighed. She didn’t want to get in the car with Jonah, but it was a long walk back and she’d scaled a mountain already. ‘I’m coming.’ She rolled her eyes and Shane smiled as if they were sharing a joke just between them, before giving her a final wave and turning back towards his boat.

Ros climbed into the jeep with hardly enough time to fasten her seat belt before they were roaring away from the pier and out into the open countryside.

‘So, that’s the boyfriend, is it?’ Jonah glanced across at her.

‘No. He’s a work colleague,’ she said but she wanted to tell him it was none of his business what their relationship was.

‘Just as well.’ He shook his head as if confirming something.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she snapped.

‘Well, he’s a bit…’

‘A bit what?’

‘Smooth. Girl-in-every-port sort of fella. Not really your type, I’d have thought…’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Well, he’s very,’ he waited, as if trying to decide on a word, ‘worldly, I suppose.’

‘And I’m not?’ What did he think she was, some sort of yokel like himself?

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘You didn’t have to and I’ll have you know that we get on very well together and…’ She felt her blood boiling. What right did Jonah Ashe have to go putting his oar in?

‘I’m sure you do.’ He shook his head and smiled to himself as if he knew something more than she did.

‘What is it you’re dying to say?’ Was he trying to annoy her? ‘Actually, no, I don’t think I want to know, keep your comments to yourself. For your information, Shane McPherson is a lovely, professional guy and he’s probably the only fella I’ve met since I’ve been here that I’d even consider going on a date with…’ She could hear her voice rising, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. ‘And, yes, if you must know, he did ask me out, but I haven’t agreed to go on a date with him, just yet.’

‘Hmph.’ Jonah was staring straight ahead now, his features set in a mixture of cold fury and resignation, as if none of this was exactly news to him.

‘But since you’ve already made your mind up about him, I’ll take that as a positive sign, because I have a feeling that you and I will never agree on anything, Jonah Ashe.’

‘No skin off my nose,’ he said in a low voice that made it more than obvious he’d had enough of listening to her.

As they made their way back, bumping along the uneven roads, Ros’s mind wandered across the water with Shane McPherson – maybe shewouldlook him up and go for dinner with him. Why not? After all, he was attractive and interesting and, certainly, he seemed to love the countryside as much as she did.

12

Constance

The shrill sound of the phone ringing out made Constance jump. And with that, the old photograph she’d been looking at went flying and she watched as it sailed slowly to the floor. There was no time to pick it up, not if she wanted to make it to the hall table to catch the caller before they gave up. Constance had learned the value of moving more slowly a few years earlier, when she’d gone too fast and ended up in a tailspin and sprained her ankle in the process.

‘Hello? Constance speaking…’ She had answered the house phone in the same way for decades. Her mother had drilled it into her and, even if she thought about saying something different, it would probably take another decade to hammer it out of her.

‘Oh Constance, thank God, you’re there,’ a voice Constance didn’t recognise breathed, and yet, there was something in it that resonated with deep familiarity. ‘It’s Heather here, Heather…’ Heather’s voice faltered as if trying to remember her second name. ‘Heather Banks.’

‘Heather?’ Constance felt her head begin to swim. Heather Banks. Dotty’s daughter. Her body dropped rather than sat on the velvet-covered stool that was part of the telephone table. ‘After all this time, Heather…’

It was as much as she could manage because, suddenly, she felt almost overcome and hardly noticed that huge tears of joy filled her eyes and were running freely down her cheeks.

‘Yes, it’s me, Constance.’ And for a moment, Constance thought she could hear Heather on the other end of the line sob too; it felt as if a sigh of relief passed across between them.

‘Is everything all right? How have you been? Oh, I’ve thought about you so often over the years and wondered…’ Then she couldn’t help it. ‘And Dotty, I’ve regretted that argument every single day, I just…’ It was the truth, but now, as the words tumbled out of her, all she felt was a relief to say them. ‘Sorry, I’m just so happy to hear your voice and… how have you been, oh dear, I already asked you that but tell me anyway…’ She was babbling, but it didn’t matter.

---