Page 84 of Take Me Away

‘I never said I wasn’t an arsehole, but come on. Aren’t you going to say anything?’ Jude grins, all innocent wide eyes.

‘You know, I think you should ask Dot if you can join her knitting morning. You’d fit right in.’

‘Already a gold member, and pay my coffee money on time.’

I shake my head. ‘You all right with Dad this afternoon?’ I try and keep my voice light, but it pitches like the crash of the waves.

Jude’s eyebrows are up near his hairline. His face really is punchable. ‘Plans? Plans that will break the Harding family traditions?’

‘It’s just one time.’

Dad strides over from the Mary Jane, boots thumping on the jetty, nodding to us both. ‘Are you boys done?’

‘Yep.’

I glance at Jude, for once being deadly serious in my appeal to his better nature.

‘Dad, thought we could go to the pub for the afternoon?’ he suggests, keeping his tone light, but Dad’s gaze slices straight over to me.

‘Saw you coming from Salt Cottage this morning,’ he says casually. Too casually.

My heart sinks. Nothing happens in Sea Salt Bay without at least three people noticing.

‘Dad, I⁠—’

‘Be careful, son.’ He cuts me off, voice low. ‘I know you’re a grown man. I know you make your own choices. But that woman…’ He shakes his head.

‘I know what I’m doing,’ I say, though it feels like a lie.

Dad’s expression softens and he scratches under the rim of his woollen hat at his white hair. ‘I hope so. I just want you happy, Kit. You and Maisie. If she makes you happy…’ He trails off, the unfinished thought hanging between us.

If she makes you happy, I’ll try to accept it. Even if I think she’ll break your heart.

‘Thanks, Dad,’ I say, meaning it. For all his stubborn ways, his love has never been in question.

He nods once, then heads up the pier, back straight despite the slight limp he pretends not to have.

‘Well, that was positively glowing with endorsement,’ Jude comments, coming to stand beside me. ‘By Dad’s standards, that was practically a blessing.’

I snort, moving to start the engine. ‘He’s just worried.’

‘Of course he is. He’s Dad and that’s what he does, no matter how big and grown-up we are, but he’s also skewed by his own trauma from Mum walking out.’ Jude begins casting off the mooring lines. We don’t talk about Mum, and I glance over at him, but his gaze is studiously on the water. ‘The question is, are you worried?’

I don’t answer immediately, focusing on the horizon of sea and sky.

‘I don’t know what this is,’ I admit finally, once we’re clear of the harbour. ‘Me and Isla. I don’t know if it’s just … clearing the air. Getting closure. Or something else.’

Jude says nothing, just waiting. For all his teasing, he knows when to shut up and listen. It’s one of his better qualities – not that I’d ever tell him.

‘I’m not the same person I was before and neither is she,’ I continue, eyes on the horizon.

‘But?’

‘But last night’—I swallow—‘was the most alive I’ve felt in a long time.’

Jude nods slowly. ‘Then maybe it’s worth finding out what “this” is, instead of assuming it’s doomed before it’s begun.’

‘When did you get so wise?’ I ask, only half joking.