Page 76 of The Women at Ocean's End

‘Open it.’ He handed it to her now and she was conscious of him, standing just a little closer than she had ever felt him before. She looked up into his eyes and, for a moment, it felt as if time stood still. He really had the most amazing eyes – how had she not noticed that before? ‘Go on, don’t worry, it isn’t an engagement ring…’ It was meant to be a joke, but his face reddened even more when the words slipped out.

‘Phew, well that’s a relief, because you know, I’m inundated with those every other day of the week,’ Ros said in an attempt to break the awkward tension between them.

‘Oh, come on,’ he said and he pushed it into her hand and took a slight step back.

‘Thank you, whatever it is, but you shouldn’t have.’ She tore open the wrapping paper, excited and intrigued to see what it contained. For a second, she wondered if perhaps it might be something like a whistle to herd the goats with. That would be the typical sort of thing she’d expect from him.

It was strange just hearing the truth of his broken marriage; already she’d begun to think of him quite differently. She looked up at him again. He was not some sort of Lothario, rather he was just like everyone else, coming to terms with what had gone before. He too knew what it was to feel the pain of loss, even if his loss was more complicated than hers. She pushed the thought aside, whatever, it was a kind gesture. She was not prepared for what was nestling on the silk cushion within the box when she snapped open the lid. A delicate gold chain with a gold and silver pendant attached. A kid goat. Long-haired, with tiny antlers, and maybe it was her, but she thought there was a distinct resemblance to George. She couldn’t speak for a minute, suddenly overcome with such a mixture of emotions.

‘Turn it over,’ he murmured softly in her ear and she did. There on the back, engraved in fine script,George. A very special kid.

‘Oh, Jonah.’ Ros heard the waver in her own voice, she was on the verge of laughter and tears. ‘Oh, it’s so… I don’t know what to say…’ She looked up at him and realised he’d moved closer to her, so close that she could smell his aftershave. It was light and clean and felt like coming home wrapping around her.

‘I…’ But he didn’t say another word. Instead, he reached out, scooped her into his arms and kissed her, long and lingering so she lost herself completely in him.

Afterwards, she looked at him as awkwardly as he had looked at her earlier. All this time, she’d completely misjudged him, blinded by idle gossip when she should have seen through it.Perhaps she would have, if it hadn’t been for all the other things going on in her life.

‘Is it okay?’ he asked her, his voice much softer than she’d ever heard it before.

‘Is what okay?’ she said and she liked the fact that he was still holding her in his arms.

‘That I kissed you?’

‘Kiss me again and I’ll tell you,’ she said, laughing, and then she reached up on her tippy-toes to kiss him once more and she had a feeling that this was the start of something, very, very special.

*

Later, Ros looked around the kitchen in Ocean’s End. In spite of herself, she found she was smiling at odd moments and she reached her hand up to check that the pendant Jonah had given her that morning was really real.

She still couldn’t quite believe it. Nothing had changed here since Constance had sat at that table. Well maybe everything was a bit cleaner, a bit more cared for, but essentially, everything was the same. Constance’s cardigan was still draped across her chair, her reading glasses were left in the centre of the table, the chain wrapped carefully around them, and the clothes brush she’d used every day was tucked away on the shelf as if she might pick it up at any moment.

To take her mind off things, Ros took the old brush down and began to clean out random hairs and bits of fluff with a sewing pin that had been popped into the seam of the curtain.

She was lost in thought when Jake pushed the back door in then. He was hardly recognisable from his usual Hawaiian-shirt-and-short-wearing self. Today, he was decked out in whatlooked like a really expensive suit, linen with a crisp white shirt and a neat leather case in his hand. He looked every inch the competent and successful lawyer that he was in his city life.

‘Perfect timing, Jake.’

Heather set about placing the tea pot on the table. She and Ros had already put out cups and Constance’s favourite jug with milk and biscuits just in case they fancied a nibble of something.

‘So, then, shall we get started?’ Jake said. Ros just wanted this morning to be over. At least then she could continue thinking of Constance sitting here with them, not as she had been in those last few days when she was drifting away.

‘Right,’ Jake said, taking the seat that had always been Constance’s, which Ros thought was maybe for the best on this occasion. ‘Now, as you ladies know, Constance asked me here to help her set her wishes in order not very long before she died. She was very clear about how she wanted things to be and she asked me specifically to make it clear that these are her wishes…’

‘Of course.’ Ros and Heather looked at each other. Whatever Constance’s wishes were, they would do their best to make sure they were carried out.

‘So,’ Jake murmured, opening the ribbon with a little ceremony, keeping his eye on the contents of the folder so none of the loose pages escaped. He took a pair of glasses from his inside pocket and suddenly, he looked like a real solicitor – no-one would imagine he was Surfer Dude now. When he began to read, Ros thought she might begin to cry again – really, it was too much. Hadn’t she cried enough before this, she didn’t want to cry again now.

‘I, Constance Macken, resident and owner of Ocean’s End, of Pin Hill Island in the County of Mayo, being of sound mind, not acting under duress or undue influence and fully understanding the nature and extent of all my property and of this disposition thereof, hereby make, publish and declarethis document to be my Last Will and Testament and hereby absolutely revoke any and all other wills and amendments previously made by me…’

It was too much. Ros couldn’t help it: she began to think of Constance that day she had brought Jake to see her. She remembered her, sitting up in bed, so delighted that she was setting everything straight, as she called it. Now, Ros felt her throat begin to close over with emotion and tears filled her eyes so she could hardly see the table in front of her. She hung her head low, willed herself not to sniffle and, instead, settled on just wiping away her tears as Jake continued to get through the legal jargon of the will.

‘We will now move on to the disposition of property in the will,’ Jake said and he leaned forward, sipped some of his tea and turned over the page. ‘I devise and bequeath my property, both real and personal and wherever situated to be shared in equal parts between my closest friends Heather Banks and Rosalind Stokes. This includes both the house and lands at Ocean’s End and all rights relating to my mother’s literary estate. It is my dear wish that they will set up a foundation in her memory, to help other writers, readers of her books and anyone who feels they might benefit from time spent at Ocean’s End. However, this is not set in stone and my bequest has only one string attached – the house in the cottage garden is Ros’s for her lifetime, to live there for as long as she wishes for the rest of her life. I hope that the care and maintenance of the estate will provide employment, abundance and home to Heather and Ros and that they know they belong on Pin Hill Island for as long as they wish to stay.’

‘Ah, Constance…’ Ros said, touched once more by her dear friend’s generosity. Heather reached across and took her hand. It was settled. They were here for good. Finally, Ros had truly come home.

*

After they had tidied everything away, Heather broke into the silence of Ros’s thoughts. ‘So…’ she said simply.

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