Page 74 of Take Me Away

Mundane words carrying the weight of everything we’re not saying.

Has the storm passed?

Is this a truce of sorts?

‘Dad’s making his special fried fish and posh mushy peas,’ Maisie informs me, dragging out a chair from the kitchen table. ‘They’re the best. Although too much garlic.’ Another eye roll that makes me snort. ‘And sometimes herbs if we have them, but we don’t today because Dad forgot to buy any at the shop.’

‘I didn’t forget,’ Kit corrects mildly. ‘I chose not to buy the sad, wilted excuse for herbs they were selling.’

Maisie sighs and gives a little shake of her head, lips curved. ‘That’s what he always says when he forgets and has to try and get what he needs from Dot’s shop.’

I grin. ‘Well, I’m sure they’ll be delicious either way.’

‘Do you want some water? Or we’ve got squash … uh, tea, coffee? Dad already made coffee but he says I can’t have any because it’ll stunt my growth, which is stupid because Lily’s mum lets her have coffee and she’s taller than me.’

‘Tea would be lovely,’ I say, trying not to laugh at Kit’s long-suffering expression. ‘I can make—’ I start to rise, but Kit shakes his head.

‘Sit. You’re a guest.’

I meet his gaze, bite my lip.

Maisie continues chattering while I watch Kit make me a cup of tea. Did Reid ever make me a cup of tea? I mean I’m sure he did, but I don’t remember it looking quite as profound. I think I need to get out more. ‘Will you come to the village gala? It’s really fun.’ I tune back in to Maisie’s chatter. ‘There’s games and music and a boat race that Dad always wins except last year when his engine broke and Mr Peterson won instead, but Dad says that was just luck.’

I glance at Kit, who studiously avoids my gaze, focused on the mug he’s stirring. ‘I don’t know if I’m coming,’ I say carefully, but the drop in her expression is almost crushing.

‘Everyone comes,’ Maisie says, as if makes it all okay. ‘And you can help with the talent show part, because, you know, you have actual talent. Miss Trent is organising it, but Dad says she couldn’t organise a piss-up in a brewery.’

‘Maisie!’ Kit’s cheeks are pink, but those dark blues of his narrow. ‘We don’t repeat things Dad says when he thinks he’s alone.’

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. ‘I haven’t been invited to help with the talent show,’ I point out. ‘And I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying in Sea Salt Bay.’

The words hang in the air.

‘You have to stay for the gala,’ Maisie insists. ‘It’s the best day of the year. Even better than Christmas.’

‘Better than Christmas?’ I raise my eyebrows. ‘That’s a bold claim.’

‘It’s true! At Christmas it’s just our family, but at the gala it’s everyone, and there’s candy floss, and games, and Dad lets me stay up late to watch the fireworks.’

Kit sets plates of beautifully crisp fish and a vibrant green mash. ‘Maisie, let Isla eat. Not everyone wants to be talked at for twenty minutes straight.’

‘I don’t mind,’ I say truthfully. There’s something refreshing about Maisie’s unfiltered enthusiasm, especially after years of carefully calculated Hollywood small talk.

‘See?’ Maisie grins triumphantly at her father. ‘She doesn’t mind.’

Kit rolls his eyes, but there is so much love painted in beautiful colours across his face, it could almost make me weep. What I wouldn’t have given to have my dad look at me like that. It’s not a memory I have. ‘Just eat your fish before it gets cold. No one likes a cold fish.’

I laugh. Can’t help it. Kit’s gaze meets mine across the table. ‘No one likes a cold fish.’ I laugh again, a little louder, the sound growing and morphing into a giggle that tags along with another. And then another. My knife and fork clatter down on the table. Tears tingle at the edges of my eyes. ‘Sorry.’ I press my palm against my face before another fit of giggles hits.

I can’t breathe. The air is squeezed in my middle like a vacuum.

Okay, Isla. Stop making an idiot of yourself.

Three.

Two.

One.