Page 65 of The Women at Ocean's End

‘I’m all right, really, just overcome with excitement,’ Constance said weakly.

‘I can see that. Even so, maybe we should get you into bed for a few hours,’ Avril said and Heather could see Constance was as likely to slip off the chair as she was to stay on it if left there for any length of time.

Ros came through the back door just in time to help them move her into bed.

‘Oh God,’ she said; there was no mistaking the fear in her eyes that things might have progressed far more quickly than any of them were ready for.

‘It’s fine.’ Avril placed a hand on Ros’s arm and Heather marvelled at how good some people were at putting you at ease.

They managed to get Constance into bed and by the time her head was resting on the pillow, she was already drifting off to sleep. Heather watched as Ros slipped the pins from her hairand it tumbled down around her face. She looked so peaceful and for a moment Heather thought,at least she’s happy. If she slips away now, she’s happy, she knows we won’t let her down.The problem was, neither she nor Ros were ready to say goodbye to Constance just yet.

43

Ros

It all felt so hollow now. Ros came down to the little cottage in the garden after she had settled Constance in for the night. Heather offered her a glass of wine before she left, but the truth was, Ros couldn’t face anything at this stage.

She’d been there when her mother passed away, holding her hand, praying for something like a miracle. Her mum had slipped away as if someone had opened a side door one day and let her vitality leak through it bit by bit so, in a matter of weeks, she was little more than fractured fragments of the woman she had once been.

That’s what Constance had reminded her of tonight.

Ros had been here at Ocean’s End first thing in the morning. Constance was her usual self, fussing around her, insisting that she have something to eat before going to check on a curlew nest on the other side of the island.

How could the whole world turn over within the space of an hour or two? That’s what it felt like, as if someone had altered the dial on everything, draining life of its most essential essence. The silence was almost claustrophobic. Ros wasn’t a religious person, but she found herself praying that Constance would rally quickly. She looked around the cottage now. It was her first night to stay here. She should be over the moon.

The cottage was still lovely, lovelier than Ros could have imagined or dreamed of ever living in. It was tiny of course,possibly that was half its charm. The entire place could fit into Constance’s kitchen and sitting room. They’d found an antique rose paint and covered the walls, rolled cream paint across the low ceiling, giving the whole place a lovely soft and feminine feel. Heather had helped her drag the mattresses into the garden on days that were so warm and windy it felt as if the heavens had decided to play along with them. The place felt and smelled as if it had been freshened by the sea air.

Of course, there were no mod cons. She would be handwashing her clothes and heating the place with firewood in the stove in the winter, but when Heather set a huge jug of wildflowers on the tiny windowsill and Ros straightened the throw she’d picked up months earlier across the fireside chair, it felt as if she had truly come home.

‘It’s lovely,’ Constance had said when she’d come down to survey the work a few days earlier. She’d brought with her gorgeous antique linen sheets that had been freshly laundered and dried in the afternoon sun. They smelled of cut grass and washing powder and Ros loved everything about them. ‘I’m just happy they’re going to be some use.’ Constance smiled. She had already sent down a multicoloured circular rug for the centre of the kitchen and told her to take anything she needed in the way of crockery or glasses or pots and pans from the old pantry. Ros loved the sheets most. She imagined folding herself between them and feeling blissfully content in her snug little corner of the island.

Ros yawned. The day had drained her, she knew she had to get to bed. She was due to meet Shane McPherson the following day and it was anyone’s guess what time he’d arrive. She had already decided he would have to wait until she checked on Constance and organised anything she and Heather might need for the day.

Shane had brought across his boat. Of course he had brought across his boat, so by the time she got to the cottage he wasalready waiting for her. He’d managed to get Jay Larkin to bring up his belongings in the back of the post van and was sitting on the doorstep waiting for her when she arrived at the ranger’s cottage.

‘Good evening,’ he said a little cynically.

‘If you’re hinting at the hour of the day, I’ve already done my rounds. There’s still a full day ahead of us, if you want to start watching the clock,’ she said without looking at him.

‘I’m sure you have, but don’t you carry some sort of mobile phone on you?’ They had given Ros one to go with the cottage, but no-one ever called her so she rarely used it, preferring instead to use her own.

‘Come on, I’ve cleared out my stuff, you can get yourself settled in.’ She pushed in the front door, leading into the tiny porch and from there the main room of the cottage.

‘So, you’re not staying on?’ he asked.

‘No. No, I’m not. It’s all yours,’ she said and even though she loved the cottage Constance had given her, and she knew it was completely irrational, she couldn’t help feeling a little peeved that he had somehow managed to take this place which had been so happy for her.

‘So all the old crap that was here?’ He was looking around the cottage.

‘Donated. The Church of Ireland ladies send on their gratitude, it’ll go some way towards repairs to the church roof in St Michaels.’

‘Hmm, so everyone wins, it saves me having to drag it across to the mainland on my boat.’ And it was hard to know if he was actually happy or not about it.

‘I’ve stripped the bed; you’ll have to make it up for yourself.’ She wasn’t his servant, just so he knew.

‘Listen, I’m sorry that…’ He stood before her, obviously uncomfortable in this space that had been hers last time he was here.

‘Sorry that?’

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