Page 69 of Meet me at the Seaside Cottages

‘Don’t make me,’ says Essie, and she makes the one sign she does remember at her mother. It is not polite.

The girl is sallow, and as soon as she gets out of the car stands as far away from Lowell as she possibly can, facing away from him. As they get closer it’s clear that she is about nine or ten; when Janey last saw her she was five.

She glances at Essie.

‘Are you going to say hello?’ Essie says. ‘Can I go and get buns?’

Janey smiles, remembering how hard Essie had always found it when she was small, running the gauntlet of how many people her mother had to stop and chat to on a completely average walk through the town. Janey ran the hearing tests at school, so every kid knew her and would often shout out a cheerful ‘beep’as she passed; or people would stop to let them know how their grandparents were getting on. Essie would writhe with boredom, swearing over and over to herself that she was going to get out of this town the second she was able.

Now, however, Essie spots Gertie, the knitting genius who’d been in her class, and Struan, the cool musician of the school. She wouldn’t have put those two together in a million years, but Struan is a teacher now and they look incredibly happy together. They wave cheerfully and Essie looks suspiciously happy about it. ‘I’ll be back in a minute!’ she calls as she darts off.

Janey carries on by herself down to the seafront. The harbour is busy: a van sells fresh lobster rolls and chips on a Saturday, as fresh as could be pulled from the water, and you had to be quick or they sold out; on lovely sunny days like today, there is even more of a crush. He’s been lucky to find a parking space so close to the water; people are coming in from miles around for a stroll and a snack on such a gorgeous day. There is clean salt in the air, and the pleasing aroma of coffee, ice cream, chips.

‘Hey,’ Janey says, approaching with a smile.

Lowell turns round. Instead of a smile, he looks awkward. The child doesn’t turn around at all and is standing at right angles to her father; she can’t hear her, of course. Facing away from her father is a very clear display that she currently has no interest in communicating with him.

Janey manoeuvres herself around to the girl’s left side and signs, ‘Hello.’

The girl stares at her blankly and doesn’t respond. She is very thin for her age, Janey can’t help but notice.

She smiles cheerily and signs, ‘Are you Verity? I saw you in my clinic once when you were very small.’

‘Verity has had quite a long drive,’ says Lowell, coming round. He speaks and signs at the same time. ‘Haven’t you, sweetie?’

Verity stomps away from them, off further up the harbour wall, towards the lobster shack, scowling. Janey and Lowell share a glance.

‘Hey,’ says Janey, and Lowell only winces. She is suddenly glad he told her the situation last night. ‘Is this her first time up here with you?’

‘I just . . . with the dogs and everything . . . I thought it would be a good idea. It has been made very clear to me that it isn’t, and that there are quite a lot of things she’d rather be doing today, none of which involve me.’

‘Tough day?’ she says, lowering her voice.

Lowell looks around, makes sure there’s nobody about. ‘Tough everything,’ he says, and for a moment, as he watches his beloved daughter storm off with all her ten-year-old might, his voice catches, just a little, and Janey’s heart goes out to him.

‘You wouldn’t believe how vile Essie was as a teen,’ she says, consolingly. ‘She was pure vileness. All the time. Like, she would not stop until I was completely crushed to the floor. I’m sure there’s some evolutionary reason for it that temporarily escapes me . . . ’

She’s aware she’s babbling, but fortunately Lowell smiles. ‘Oh, lord. She’s not even a teen yet. How much worse is it going to get?’

Janey opens her mouth to mention the piercing wars, then wisely decides against it.

‘How’s your ex?’

‘Bonkers as conkers,’ says Lowell without elaborating. ‘How’s yours?’ he adds, politely, and Janey can tell he is trying to makeup for the one-sidedness of the night before. She finds this quite touching.

‘Someone else’s problem,’ says Janey. ‘Have you thought about buying Verity some chips?’

‘She’s vegan now.’

Janey frowns. ‘I hope she’s getting everything she needs. I’m not a nutritionist but she seems awfully . . . ’

‘She’s fading away,’ says Lowell. ‘She gets a lot of messages from her mother about food. Mostly, avoid it at all costs, I think.’

Janey winces.

‘Oh, sorry. I am trying, Janey,’ he says. ‘I know I sound bitter and awful and mean, but I am trying so hard, and God, I don’t know what to do.’ He looks at her. There are heavy bags under his eyes. ‘Do you think . . . would you mind . . . ? I’m sorry, I’m leaning on your good will . . . ’

He is. Janey wished she minded more. ‘What is it you want?’

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