Page 17 of Summer in Sunset Harbour
‘Do you work here now?’ Hilda asked.
‘Volunteer,’ Cathy said. ‘Gav’s now a stay-at-home dad for the little three.’ She leant down as though to whisper something, but her voice was loud enough for half the pub to hear. ‘Number four’s in the oven. He thought it would be nice for me to get out and about while I have the chance.’
She laughed again, slapping the table hard enough to make a basket of condiments rattle, then marched off without another word.
‘She’s … nice,’ Josie said.
‘Larger than life in more ways than one. One of the local characters, everyone’s best friend. I’ve only met her a handful of times. She won the lottery a couple of years back, so now owns the local launderette, as well as one of the bakeries. She puts her golden stamp on everything.’ Hilda chuckled. ‘What used to be the Porth Melynos Tea House is now Cathy’s Cakes and Buns.’
‘I’ll be sure to stop by while I’m here.’
‘Great for diabetes,’ Hilda said, then tapped the tabletop with far more finesse than Cathy had. ‘Right, let’s order. My stomach is starting to grumble.’
An hour later, filled with curry and a couple of pints of beer each, Josie felt ready to turn in. Hilda, though, defying her years, ordered a bottle of wine.
‘I just want to have a proper toast to you being here,’ Hilda said. ‘Every cloud has a silver lining, and your divorce was definitely mine. I could never get up to Bristol to see you as much as I wanted, what with work and everything, and while this certainly isn’t the ideal situation, I think it’s great that we can spend some time together.’
‘I appreciate having a friend,’ Josie said, suddenly feeling a little tearful. ‘After everything that’s happened, I really needed it. Most people we knew took Reid’s side by default, as though the sensitive singer-songwriter couldn’t possibly be to blame for anything. My friends turned against me, and even Tiffany—’
She clamped her mouth shut, but it was too late, the alcohol had done its work.
‘What about Tiffany? She’s still on your side, isn’t she? Has she decided where she would like to do her residency?’
Josie felt like the world—or at least one of Cathy Ubbers’ hands—was pressing down on her shoulders. She slumped in the chair and sighed.
‘She told me she’s dropping out. She doesn’t want to pursue medicine anymore. After all these years of studying—after all the money I spent to support her—all that work, and she’d decided it’s not what she wants.’
‘Oh dear. Well, perhaps she’ll do something similar, you know, paramedic or something like that—’
Josie could barely bring herself to speak. ‘She’s decided to be Reid’s tour manager,’ she said. ‘She’s turned her back on everything she’s worked for to help her father.’ She gave a sad chuckle and wiped away a tear. ‘I suppose that’s something, isn’t it? She’s loyal to her family. Half of it, at least. Whether he’s deserving of that loyalty, I don’t know. He was hardly ever there when she was a little girl. Never did sports practices, and the one time he came to parents’ evening, he tried to slip her form teacher a CD with his mobile number written on the inside. Oh, he brushed that off, told me it was a spare copy he’d made for a radio station. God, what a fool I was. And now … look at me.’
She realised she was crying. She looked up at Hilda, her vision a blur.
‘Oh, Josie—’
‘I built a house and it fell down,’ Josie sobbed. ‘Every last brick. I worked, and I built, and I saved, and I … I … held it all, held it all together, even as all the pieces started to float apart. I held on. Then it blew up in my face, and I ended up with nothing. Is that how life’s supposed to be, Hilda? Is it?’
Hilda reached out and patted her on the back of the hand. ‘If you’re on the ground,’ she said, ‘You have to try to get to a knee. Because if you can get to one knee, you can get to the other knee, and if you can get up to your knees, you can stand. You need to stand, Josie.’
‘I’m standing,’ Josie said. ‘But sometimes I don’t want to stand. I really just want to lie down and close my eyes.’
‘And when you open them again, things will have got that little bit better,’ Hilda said. ‘Because that’s the way things work.’
Josie smiled. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
They fell silent for a few minutes, listening to the gentle background music. The pub had emptied out now that the restaurant had closed. A few people still sat along the bar, leaning into their drinks. Josie listened to the song playing in the background—some old hit, the name of which she couldn’t remember—and thought that if Reid’s song came on, she would probably scream.
‘Nine o’clock,’ Hilda said quietly.
‘What? It’s later than that, isn’t it?’
‘I’m talking about tomorrow. Nine o’clock start? I can do eight if you really want.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m going to help you with the campsite. See if we can’t get it fixed up.’
‘It’s too much for you, all that work.’
