Page 69 of Take Me Away

‘Kit.’ Jude’s voice stops me. ‘Just … think about what you’re really afraid of here. Is it Isla leaving again? Or is it the possibility that she might not?’

‘I’m going to find my daughter,’ I say and walk away, boots heavy on the wet dock planks. But his question follows me, stubborn as the tide.

The Ship Inn glows like a lighthouse through the drizzle, windows fogged with warmth and voices. I hesitate at the door, suddenly aware of my soaked clothes, the salt crusting my skin, the exhaustion weighing down every limb.

But Maisie will be inside. So I push through.

The warmth hits me first, then the noise – conversations layered over music, glasses clinking, the familiar creaking of the old floorboards beneath boots. Ayo nods from behind the bar, already reaching for a glass.

Then I see them.

By the fire, in the corner booth – Isla and Maisie. My daughter is talking animatedly, hands gesturing in the air the way she does when she’s excited. And Isla is watching her with such focused attention, such genuine interest, that something twists sharply in my chest.

Their hands are linked on the table, Maisie’s small fingers wrapped in Isla’s.

Jess used to look at Maisie that way. With that same blend of wonder and pride and fierce protection.

The guilt hits me like a rogue wave.

But then Maisie spots me, her face lighting up. ‘Dad!’ She waves frantically.

Isla’s head turns, and our eyes meet across the crowded room. Something flickers in her expression – warmth, uncertainty, something more complicated that I can’t name. Her lips part slightly, and I remember with painful clarity how they felt against mine just hours ago, before her BOYFRIEND called.

I force my legs to move, crossing to their table with what I hope passes for a normal smile.

‘Swimming go okay?’ I ask Maisie, dropping a kiss on her damp hair. ‘Sorry I wasn’t there to pick you up.’

Her arms wrap around my legs and squeeze. ‘You’re a hero, dad, I’ll let you off.’ She gives me another squeeze which makes an unexpected lump lodge sideways in my throat. ‘And I did butterfly all by myself. Coach said I was natural.’ She grins, new big teeth centre and proud, her freckles squishing with her smile. ‘Then Nina brought me here for chips, and we found Isla! She’s been telling me about the time you both got stuck on the lighthouse stairs when the tide came in too fast.’

I shoot Isla a look. ‘She has, has she?’

‘Only the highlights,’ Isla says, lifting an eyebrow in what can only be described as a challenge. ‘I left out the part where you swore like a sailor when your phone got soaked.’

A small smile tugs at my mouth. ‘Appreciate the discretion.’

‘Dad, you’re all wet,’ Maisie observes, wrinkling her nose. ‘And you smell like fish.’

‘Occupational hazard,’ I say. ‘Rescue went fine, by the way. Everyone’s safe.’

Isla’s shoulders drop slightly. ‘Good. That’s … good.’

An awkward silence settles.

‘I should go,’ Isla says suddenly, gathering her coat. ‘Let you two have dinner.’ She squeezes Maisie’s hand once before letting go. ‘Thanks for sharing your chips with me.’

‘Why don’t you come over tomorrow?’ Maisie asks, hope bright in her voice. ‘We could finish our game. I was totally winning.’

Isla’s eyes flick to mine.

It’s like the whole pub ceases to exist. It’s just me and her. The air between.

Then I force my way out, back in my head, back to being sensible. I force away the feel of her mouth as it landed on mine, the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips.

‘Maisie, Isla’s probably busy.’ I clear my throat, before adding, ‘She’s got her own things to do.’

Isla bites her lip and I tell myself I can’t see the crack across the delicate panes of her expression.

She nods, then rises. ‘Goodnight, Maisie. Goodnight, Kit.’