Page 72 of Meet me at the Seaside Cottages

‘Nnnnnnn,’ says Verity from her seat in the back, a sound which Janey recognises immediately as almost any deaf child telling people to face them while they talk, but which seems to startle Lowell. He absolutely has not spent enough time with this child, she thinks, and feels sad. She nudges him and he looks at Verity in the car mirror.

‘I’m sorry, darling,’ he signs, turning round awkwardly from the driver’s seat and freeing up his hands.

‘WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?’ she signs furiously.

‘Nothing! Just seeing if J-a-n-e-y wants to come to see the dogs with us.’

‘That’s all?’

‘Of course.’

‘You’re not going to do treatment?’

Lowell’s face sags again. ‘Of course not. Of course not. I never would. Your mum wouldn’t let me take you if I was going to do something bad would she?’

‘She’s gone away without me,’ signs Verity. Janey is impressed by her fluency in signing – she is beautiful to watch, her hands flying through intricate patterns as if conducting a tiny orchestra – but she would normally be a littleconcerned about how little effort Verity makes to speak along with it.

Then she reminds herself that she is not responsible for this child, and it is absolutely up to Verity how she lives her life. Or Verity’s mother, she also thinks, but tries to quell the thought. One thing about getting older, she has found, is that you may not share people’s points of view, but you can learn to understand. There’s always a reason for it. People aren’t as black and white as the movies would like you to think. Which is a shame.

‘She’ll be back very soon,’ signs Lowell, and the devastation that his only child believes that to spend time with him is the same as being abandoned is writ large across his heavy features.

*

Once they reach the house, Verity leaps out without waiting for a signal.

‘You should put the child locks on,’ Janey murmurs to Lowell, who nods.

Verity is obviously not scared of much. She looks up at her old home without interest. It is weird, Janey thinks, just how incredibly aggressive an act turning your back can be. Lowell is rubbing the back of his head. Then he goes and fetches her bag.

‘I can head—’ says Janey.

‘Please don’t,’ he says, with feeling. Janey finds herself stiffening a little. She’s a health professional, but she’s not here in a professional capacity. She’s not staff.

He realises immediately. ‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘You are going to have to get on with her at some point,’ says Janey, as kindly as she can, without trying to sound like their bloody social worker.

‘I know, Iknow.’

‘I think I know a few creatures who are ready to help.’

It’s a nice enough day that the puppies are in the outside run but of course Verity hasn’t heard them scrabble and yelp, tearing about. Felicity has stayed inside. But Lowell has already opened the door, and the large shaggy beast tears into the sunshine, a ball of huge hairy energy, flopping ears and tongue.

‘Of course!’ says Janey, amazed at herself for not realising. ‘Verity and Felicity. Of course. Truth and Happiness.’

She turns to Lowell to tease him for calling his dog and child matching Latin-based names, but he is not listening: in the dead centre of the lawn, buried in one another, heartbeat to heartbeat, are one little girl, and her enormous dog.

Janey sees that his eyes are full of tears. Oh, no, she thinks. She can talk herself out of anything, tell herself she is too old and too daft for everything. But it is very hard to watch this huge man cry and not want to go to him with every fibre in her being.

She remembers, briefly, that some men cannot bear to show weakness, or to get caught in the act of it, and that these men, if seen undone, can be dangerous. But she does not think Lowell is this type of man. She moves towards him, stands side by side, lets her hand graze his. Sure enough, almost as if he doesn’t know he’s doing it, he grabs hold of it, squeezes it, surprisingly hard, and a tear runs down his large cheek.

‘It’s okay,’ she says, soothingly. ‘It’s okay.’

‘I miss her so much,’ he says.

Verity and Felicity have recovered now, and are now examining each other, inch by inch, Felicity sniffing everywhere. She starts licking Verity’s ear.

‘Look,’ says Janey. ‘She’s saying, you won’tbelievewhat happened to me. I was just hanging out with this wee guy, right. He was short, but . . . you know, good with the banter.’

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