23. Looking for Help

23

Looking for Help

Hilda wanted to keep her diagnosis a secret from the whole population of Porth Melynos, so Josie told Tiffany and Cathy that Hilda’s diagnosis was inconclusive. While Tiffany gave her a sly look to suggest she knew a lie when she heard one, Cathy was thankfully more interested in the bargains she had found during their shopping trip. As she dropped them off, a little queasy but with stomach contents intact, at the top of the campsite road, Josie promised to fill her in on any updates. As soon as Cathy sped off, Tiffany turned to her.

‘Cancer, isn’t it?’

‘Um, what?’

‘Mum, I’ve just completed five years of medical school. Don’t try to lie to me.’

Josie broke down all over again. Tiffany took her back to her cabin and made a cup of tea.

‘She’s my best friend,’ she sobbed. ‘I had no idea.’

‘She said it’s stage two, right?’ Tiffany said. ‘That means they’ve caught it in time. She might be fine. There’s a good chance.’

‘What if she’s not?’

‘Mum, we could both get hit by a bus—or a speeding launderette van, more likely—tomorrow. Even with cancer, she could yet outlive both of us. You have to be strong for her.’

Josie reached out and touched Tiffany’s cheek. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

‘You keep saying that.’

‘I know, but I am. Look at me, I’m barely keeping myself together. It should be the other way around.’

‘Just think of Hilda. You need to be strong for her.’

‘I’m doing my best. It seems like everyone around me is managing to cope with what life throws at them except for me. Why is that, Tiff?’

‘I think you’re doing okay. Just take a deep breath.’

Josie puffed out her cheeks. ‘Right. So, one thing at a time, right? We have a campsite to open, but before we can do that, we have a hole in the ground to deal with. We can’t afford a survey, can we?’

‘Not without calling in a favour, getting another loan, or selling your underwear. None of which are great options, are they? Obviously the first one is the best, but we’re not talking a tenner for fish ‘n’ chips. A survey on a plot this size could cost a hundred grand. Nat doesn’t have it, neither of us have it, and the only person who might is Hilda, but do you really want to ask her?’

‘I would rather sell my underwear.’

Tiffany rolled her eyes. ‘Well, that’s the first fiver sorted. What about the rest?’

Josie couldn’t help but smile. ‘We’re screwed, aren’t we? We’re going to have to close down before we’ve even opened.’

‘Not necessarily. Thanks to a bit of genius—if I do say so myself—with SEO and online advertising, bookings are going great. We’re full a couple of weeks in August already, and I’ve applied for an on-site catering licence so we can flog some ice creams. You know that the profit margin is about sixty percent? Forget alcohol. Ice creams, cakes and scones are where the real money is. Then there’s the tour excursions. I’ve got moorland trekking, sea-fishing, foraging, and even farming experiences pencilled in. Not to mention trips to local landmarks.’

‘How on earth can you arrange all that?’

Tiffany tipped the pink baseball cap she wore, emblazoned with the slogan, Cathy’s Cleaning: You’ll scrub up nice across the front. ‘I know a woman who knows a dog, and that dog knows everyone,’ she said.

‘You never cease to amaze me.’

‘Well, to say thank you, I want you to do something for me. I heard from Lindsay and Geoffrey that Robinson’s coming back down tomorrow morning. I want you to go over there and ask if there’s anything he can tell us about that hole. He’s a geologist after all.’

‘Robinson … do I really have to involve him?’

Tiffany let out a frustrated groan. ‘Mum, this is business. You don’t need to go over there and flutter your eyelashes at him. Although it might help avoid a consultation fee. Take a clipboard or something and wear a t-shirt with paint on it or whatever. At least if he can give us an idea of what’s down there, we’ll be in a better position to succeed.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘We’re only screwed if it’s a mine. If it’s a natural cave caused by the rock strata, we’re in the clear. We’d only need to fence it off.’

‘And if it’s the entrance to a mine tunnel?’

‘Then it’s better that we find out now, so we cancel everything before financial penalties kick in.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Don’t be fooled by the hat.’

Josie finished her tea. It had gone cold, and left a sour taste on her tongue. With another sigh, she stood up.

‘All right,’ she said.

It was hard to keep herself busy when the world was threatening to crash down around her, but she found that cutting the ivy away from the back of the play barn was suitably mind-numbing to fill the void of her life for a few hours. The next morning, with shoulders that felt like they’d been pulling trees out by the roots, she put off what she had to do until late-afternoon, then walked up to Nathaniel’s house by the road route. There were still plenty of hours left in the day, but the sun already hung low over the hills to the west, casting its glow over the English Channel. The sky was clear, the air warm enough that she had to remove her jumper. The road rose to a viewing spot before dipping down again into the clifftop farmland where Nathaniel lived, and Josie paused for a moment to look out over the sea.

Staring at the wide blue expanse of the English Channel, she suddenly felt tiny, little more than a speck of dust, clinging to the side of a massive, spinning ball. The sea, the cliffs, the hills and the valleys, even the trees, would still be here long after she had become but a memory.

Why do we try so hard? Everything comes from nothing, returns to nothing. The foreground flashes in and out of focus, but the background barely changes. The players on the stage come and go, but the stage stays the same.

And then she thought of Hilda, lying in a hospital bed, still defiant. Nat, mole-blind, chipping away at his driftwood sculptures. Lindsay and Geoffrey, trying to repair years of personal failings. Even Tiffany, fresh out of medical school, initially jaded, but now rediscovering a bright-eyed sense of wonder.

Why not enjoy what we have? Live every moment for everything we are worth, and worry about what happens afterwards, after.

She lifted her hands and gave a sudden whoop, then cupped her hands around her mouth and let out a long, screeching howl.

It felt good. Like she was reaching inside herself, pulling something out. She cupped her hands to do it again—

‘Are you all right?’

Her heart leapt as she spun around. She hadn’t heard or seen anyone, but a man on a bicycle had pulled into the verge behind her and was watching her with an expression of both surprise and amusement. At first the floppy beach hat left his eyes shadowed, the afternoon sun on his face filling in the lines of his cheeks and jaw with colour, so it wasn’t until he smiled and lifted the hat that she recognised him.

‘Robinson? What are you doing here?’

He nudged the bag on his shoulder. ‘Dad wanted fish ‘n’ chips,’ he said. ‘I’m just riding down to get him some.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Ah, yes.’

‘You’re riding down that hill?’

He nodded. ‘Then riding a little slower back up. You should try it. Gets the blood flowing. Actually, if you like I can give you a backie.’

‘Excuse me, a what?’

‘A backie. You sit on the seat with your legs out. I’ll stand up and pedal. Didn’t you ever do it at school?’

‘I caught a school bus.’

‘Ah, never mind. Come on. I can give up a lift down, but you’ll have to walk back up. And that’s no diss on your weight. Parts of that hill are one in six. I have to push the bike back up as it is. Twenty years ago, no problem, but I’m getting lazy in my old age.’

‘You’re not old.’

‘I suppose it depends on the outside conditions. Compared to Dad, no. Compared to young Barney or your Tiffany, I’m ancient. Compared to you, perhaps—’ He smiled, then quickly looked away. ‘I’m maybe just right.’

Josie’s cheeks burnt. Live life . ‘A backie?’ She took a deep breath. ‘Okay, come on then.’

He helped her climb on to the bike. ‘You’ll have to hold on to me,’ he said. ‘Hold my waist, but don’t squeeze too tight and try not to lean when we go round corners or we’ll both come off. I’ll try not to go too fast.’

Josie’s cheeks burnt with heat, but at least he was facing ahead and couldn’t see her. ‘All right.’

Robinson, standing in front, took the handlebars and put his feet on the pedals. The bike, a solid-framed mountain bike with deep-treaded off-road tyres, wobbled under their collective weight as they started to move.

‘Oh, god,’ Josie muttered, grabbing hold of the hips of Robinson’s jeans.

‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m terrified.’

‘Just hold on. Put your hands around my waist and lean into my back if you get scared. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.’

The road naturally sloped down into the village, so Robinson barely had to pedal at all. Holding on to the brakes, he took them gently down the coast road until they reached the outskirts of the village, houses on either side. The road widened and they passed a couple of cars coming the other way. Josie, hanging on for dear life, tried to enjoy the thrill of the wind in her hair as they freewheeled past expensive clifftop houses.

‘Right, are you ready? Here’s the fun bit,’ Robinson said, as they came around a corner and found themselves at the top of the steep hill dropping diagonally down the hillside to the harbour below. A sheer stonewalled hedgerow overhung by trees made up one side. On the other was a line of cottages built into the hillside.

‘Let’s go,’ Josie said, voice trembling.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Y … yes.’

‘All right.’

Robinson pushed off again. For a few seconds they moved gently, like a rollercoaster reaching the top of its incline, then quickly accelerated, the noise of the wind filling Josie’s ears. As their speed increased, she clung on tighter, the hill so steep she could barely muster the nerve to breathe. Robinson had one hand on the brake, but Josie nudged his arm.

‘Faster!’ she screamed.

Laughing, Robinson let go of the brake and they plunged into an apparent freefall, the houses flashing past them in a blur. Josie clung to Robinson, no longer pedalling at all but leaning forward over the handlebars as though to streamline them, send them rocketing even faster.

‘ Faster! ’

Up ahead was a tight, switchback corner, beyond it seemingly only the sea. Josie let out a gasp in terror, certain now that Robinson meant to dissect a gap in the crash barriers, send them flying over the edge into oblivion. A call for him to stop bounced on her tongue, but none would come. She wanted to shut her eyes, but found them opening wider as she peered out from behind his shoulder, the wind billowing into them drying them open, freezing her vision on the potential disaster.

And then, with an expert twist, Robinson both braked and turned at the same time, hacking them around the corner. The world swung, Josie’s stomach lurching, and she found herself facing the pretty village set into the valley as they dropped down the last section of the hill, gradually flattening out as it came to another corner and a humpbacked bridge over the river.

There was one last thrill as they bumped over the bridge, then they were coming to a stop outside a fish ‘n’ chip shop not far from the harbour.

Josie could barely move. Robinson stepped off the bike and turned to face her, his face ghost-white.

‘I never went that fast even as a kid,’ he gasped, running a hand through hair that was now hatless. ‘Are you out of your mind?’

Josie grinned. ‘I am now,’ she said.

They ordered fish ‘n’ chips, then proceeded with a more sedate walk back up the hill, Robinson pushing the bike, collecting his hat from the branch of a low-hanging tree halfway up, while Josie walked alongside.

Exhausted by the time they got back to the viewing spot, Robinson suggested they sit down on a bench overlooking the sea to eat.

‘What about your dad?’ Josie asked.

Robinson grinned. ‘We have a microwave. He was in the middle of a sculpture anyway. He won’t mind. I’ll just tell him there was a queue.’

As they sat side by side, their food on their laps, Josie had a sudden moment of clarity that to all intents and purposes they were on a date. The freedom with which she had talked about nothing important on the walk up the hill deserted her, her tongue appearing to tie itself into an abrupt knot.

‘It’s … um … pretty.’

‘The sea?’

‘Yes.’

‘What in particular about it?’

‘Huh?’

‘What do you particularly like about the sea to consider it pretty?’

‘I—’

Robinson grinned. ‘Don’t worry. I’m just playing around. Relax.’

‘I am relaxed.’ No, I’m not.

Robinson just grinned as he detached a chip from the rest of the soggy clump and tossed it into his mouth.

‘What’s your favourite sea animal?’ he asked.

‘Favourite … I … never really thought about it. Ah … sharks?’

‘Why?’

‘I suppose because they’re kind of like the boss of the sea. Nothing eats them.’

‘Except us, and sometimes killer whales.’

Josie chuckled. ‘I suppose that’s true. So, you don’t like sharks?’

‘Oh, no, I think sharks are great. I just wondered what you thought.’

‘Why? Is this some kind of personality test?’

Robinson popped another chip into his mouth. ‘Nope.’

‘So why ask?’

‘Why not? All right. If you could do anything right now that involves water, what would you do?’

‘Wash?’

Robinson laughed. ‘I was thinking more like water sports. Surfing?’

‘I’ve never tried it.’

‘I could teach you. Although Dad was the master, back in the day.’ He grinned. ‘I am but an apprentice.’

‘Isn’t it scary getting smashed by big waves?’

‘Yeah, but it’s kind of exhilarating. You know, not dying. I kind of like it.’

‘Isn’t that what we’re all doing, day after day? Not dying?’

‘Of course, but we’re not aware of it. Only when you stand a little closer to the edge do you realise how much you appreciate where you are.’

‘And because we’re not really aware of it, we drift and we drift, and suddenly, it’s too late.’ She couldn’t get the image of Hilda, lying in the hospital bed, with a tube in her arm, out of her head. ‘Sometimes … we have to say what we really feel, when we feel it.’

Robinson just gazed out at the sea, popping another chip into his mouth. ‘You’re relaxed now, aren’t you?’

‘Huh?’ Josie laughed. ‘I guess I am.’

‘So, what is it you want to say? Don’t be afraid. Just say it.’

Josie closed her eyes and opened her mouth, trying not to think about what she was going to say, but to let her tongue take on a life of its own. She remembered how it had been so easy in her late teens and early twenties, helped by a glass of wine or two. Now, at forty-five, with a lifetime of playing by the rules behind her, it was infinitely harder.

‘My … I … I think … well … my daughter, and um, my best friend, have been trying to look out for me after what my ex-husband did.’

‘The musician guy?’

‘Yeah.’

Robinson nodded. ‘I’ve heard about him. Tiffany was telling me. He’s at number one, right? God, that song is terrible.’

Josie couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Yeah, him. Anyway, yeah, he was a scumbag, treated me like a doormat and basically used me for our entire marriage to push his career while burying mine, I was still for some strange reason in love with him.’

‘Women love a bad guy. It’s evolution, as natural as a rock formation.’

‘That’s … one way to look at it.’

Robinson just shrugged, ate another chip.

‘Well, because of that, because he basically broke my heart, my soul, my resolve, and my emotional ability to deal with relationships—not to mention decimating my bank account—I just can’t even think about another relationship right now, even if my daughter and my best friend think it would fix me.’

‘That’s completely reasonable.’

She turned to look at him. ‘It is?’

‘Yeah. Of course it is.’

‘Really?’ Part of her couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed at his own seeming lack of disappointment. It was as though he had no feelings for her at all.

Why would he? I’ve basically run away from him at every opportunity.

‘I’m a geologist,’ he said. ‘I study timeframes that are almost too incomprehensible for people to understand. ‘Waiting isn’t something that bothers me.’

‘Waiting?’

‘Yeah.’

She felt all prickly hot again. Did he mean waiting for her?

‘What are you …waiting for?’

Robinson grinned. ‘I’m waiting to see what happens. I don’t believe in forcing any situation any more than necessary.’

‘Right.’

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Josie stared out at the sea, analysing his words for hidden meaning. Robinson, however, just stared at the sea, without a care in the world.

Eventually, he said, ‘So, what was it you were coming to see me about?’

‘What? I—how did you know?’

‘Tiffany called me to say you were heading up to Dad’s place. I thought I’d come and meet you, save you the walk.’

‘You were coming to meet me?’

‘Yeah. And get Dad’s fish ‘n’ chips, of course. Two birds, one stone, and all that.’

‘But you didn’t say.’

‘No, because I thought you would. Eventually. See what I mean about waiting? I think we’ve reached that point where you’re about to tell me, though.’

‘It’s about the campsite,’ she sighed, shoulders slumping, all her whimsical wonderings crashing to earth. ‘We might have a bit of a problem.’