Page 35 of Take Me Away

Piper stands, extending a hand. ‘You must be Maisie’s dad? She’s super cute. I’m Piper Chen, Isla’s PA.’ Her grip is surprisingly strong. Brutal, actually. ‘I’ve heard so much about you.’

‘I doubt that,’ I say, ignoring the way Maisie is looking up at me with disappointment.

‘Oh, but I have,’ Piper says. Her smile is literally blinding me. ‘Though apparently she failed to mention you look like you could be in one of her films.’

I choose to ignore whatever that means. ‘Maisie, get your things.’

‘Kit,’ Isla says softly. My name in her mouth still sounds wrong. Too familiar. Too right.

I finally look at her directly. ‘Isla.’

A beat of silence stretches between us.

‘The lighthouse thing,’ she begins, then falters. ‘I wasn’t going to⁠—’

‘Do whatever you want,’ I say, more sharply than intended. ‘You always do.’

Her expression shutters, that actress mask sliding back into place. ‘Right.’

‘Right.’

Maisie slides off her chair, gathering her backpack. ‘Bye, Nina. Bye, Miss Chen. Bye, Isla. Thank you for the hot chocolate.’

‘Maisie!’ I snap, and steer her towards the door, feeling the weight of three sets of eyes on my back – and ignoring the particular burn of one pair.

I last until after dinner. After Maisie is in bed with a chapter of her book read. After I’ve fixed the dripping tap in the bathroom and paid the electric bill and done all the mundane things that make up a life.

Only then do I find myself walking down the lane towards Salt Cottage, telling myself I’m going to make it clear that Sea Salt Bay doesn’t have room for Isla Quinn anymore.

The lights are on, warm yellow rectangles against the dark. I hesitate at the gate, then push it open, scraping it open against the path, and approach the door. I can hear faint music from inside – something classical and scratched that Maggie would have played on her old turntable.

I knock. No, that’s not true. I hammer on the door.

The door opens, and there she is. Hair damp and smelling of shampoo, wearing a sweatshirt for a university I know for a fact she didn’t attend. Must be her boyfriend’s then. No makeup. No Hollywood. Just Isla.

And I wish my breath didn’t catch in my throat at the sight of her.

Her eyes widen slightly when she sees me. ‘Kit?’

‘Maisie told me you weren’t feeling well,’ I say, not what I was supposed to say, although I did get the health update from Maisie over her fish finger tea.

‘Oh, so now you want to talk?’ Her arms cross over her chest, defensive.

‘I wasn’t—’ I stop, not sure what I’d been about to say. Then I glance up at the ceiling.

‘Bloody hell?’

She glances over her shoulder. ‘Don’t judge. It’s my inheritance.’

Despite myself, the corner of my mouth twitches. ‘It looks like the ceiling is about to come down.’

She rubs at the back of her neck, sending waves of vanilla and salt in my direction. ‘I think some roof tiles must have slipped.’ She shakes her head, and I wonder for a moment if she’s thinking about Maggie. About how long these four walls stood empty once Maggie went to the old people’s place in the town across. How fucking sad it is that every step we take in this life only ever takes to us one final destination.

‘Want me to take care of it?’

‘You’re offering to fix my roof when you can’t even meet me eye to eye?’

I glance at the damage to the ceiling again. Bloody hell, one more heavy hit of rain and the whole thing could come down. I shake my head. What the fuck am I doing here?