Page 57 of Take Me Away

The walk back to Salt Cottage is slow and painful, not helped by the slippery pavements, the mush of mud and leaves. It’s still damp, a decided drizzle – forget the mizzle.

I could be auditioning for a part in a zombie horror movie; I must remember to twist my ankle should a part like that ever come up. I’m nailing a superior zombie gait. For a moment, I forget I’m in Sea Salt Bay at all. I’m back in a drama class, twenty-five of us groaning, dragging a leg as we perfected the zombie walk. I got a crick in my neck from holding it at an angle so long because I refused to come out of character when the teacher stopped us all with her corrections.

‘Isla? What on earth are you doing hobbling around like that?’ A bicycle bell cuts through my memory as Nina comes to a squealing stop beside me on the road, putting her foot down for balance. ‘You shouldn’t be walking on your ankle. There is no way it’s fixed already.’ She’s eyeing me critically. ‘Where are you coming from this early? I must give you my number so if you need anything you can just give me a shout.’

Fuck. I think I’m going to cry.

Nina’s eyes widen. ‘Wait. Are those the same clothes from yesterday?’ A slow smile spreads across her face as she looks at the direction I’m coming from. ‘Isla Quinn, are you hobbling back from Kit’s place?’

‘It’s not what you’re thinking,’ I cut in. ‘My roof was leaking. He let me stay on his sofa. Well, he stayed on the sofa, I…’ I trail off.

‘Mm-hmm,’ Nina says, clearly unconvinced. ‘The same Kit Harding who’s been scowling like a thundercloud every time your name is mentioned and lifted you in his arms yesterday and stormed off with you because you were hurt? That Kit Harding?’

‘The one and only.’ I shift my weight, trying to take pressure off my aching foot. ‘It was a bit of an emergency situation.’

‘Of course it was,’ Nina laughs, leaning her bicycle with its wire basket up against a low stone wall. ‘Come on, let me help you the rest of the way.’

She loops her arm through mine, providing welcome support as we continue towards Salt Cottage. Maybe it is hurting more than I’ve let on, but I’m glad my acting skills haven’t rusted during my sabbatical from my own life.

‘So,’ she says casually, ‘how was it?’

I side-eye her. ‘How was what?’

‘Kit. I’m assuming you didn’t just sit in silence while he glowered like the grumpy fisherman that he is. That would be awkward as hell.’

I laugh. I feel light, the lightest I’ve felt in ages.

‘Surreal,’ I admit. ‘And yes, awkward as hell.’

Nina nods thoughtfully. ‘I can only imagine. You know it’s a bit surreal talking to you like this. I mean, I’ve seen all your films. You’ve been on the front of magazines. And now you’re here, limping through Sea Salt Bay with a busted foot.’

‘I’m just pretty standard really.’

‘Fame’s a funny thing, I reckon,’ Nina muses, pushing her hair out of her eyes and tucking curls behind her ear. ‘From the outside, it looks like this magical existence, glamorous, sophisticated. But I reckon it could also be lonely as well.’

Nina’s words are like a freight train of truth straight to the pit of my stomach and I let out a gasp. ‘Yeah, it can.’

I’d love to stop and chat, invite her in for tea, cake, anything to repay this small gift of understanding. But the cottage is in as much disarray as my life. We continue to hobble to the other end of the lane, where Salt Cottage is ready to welcome me home with damp walls and saucepans full of rainwater. All I can hope is that the ceiling is still there.

‘Want to lean on me?’

I give a small shake of my head. ‘Hell no. I just want to get this thing moving again so it doesn’t get any stiffer than it has.’

‘You sound like you know about ankle sprains.’

I shoot her another side-eye, which morphs into a grin. ‘One of the least glamorous parts of being an actress. No one mentions the bruises, sprains, inability to breathe during various parts of the day – costume allowing.’

‘You’re just putting me off more by the second. Think I’ll stick to coffee and endless tourists asking for a pasty.’

I snort a laugh. ‘Gotta love a pasty, though.’

After a moment of comfortable silence Nina speaks again. ‘Things haven’t been easy for Kit, you know. After Jessica died.’

‘I gathered that.’

‘After she was gone we all just, well, jumped in. It was never a question. The Hardings have been here forever and I think they will always be…’ She trails off, shaking her head.

‘Yep. I know that. Kit would never have left Sea Salt Bay; not for anything, not for…’ I trail off too. It’s all ancient history now.