Page 15 of Eden's Comfort Kitchen
‘Yes. I’m looking forward to it.’
‘Come on holiday and get yourself a job,’ Julia said with a light laugh. ‘Not the sort of holiday people usually want.’
‘It’s not really a holiday. I mean, it is, but it’s sort of not.’
Eden felt the weight of that curious scrutiny again. She didn’t suppose she was making much sense to Livia’s mum. She wasn’t making much sense to herself for that matter.
‘Right, well, I’d better get on,’ Julia said. ‘Queue’s growing.’
Eden looked to see that half a dozen people had joined the line in the few minutes she’d been talking to Julia. ‘Will Livia be having lunch soon?’ she asked, feeling like a kid asking her friend’s mum if they could come out to play.
‘I doubt there’ll be much time to stop today, to be honest. I couldn’t say, though.’
‘Oh, right. Well, if she…’ Eden shook her head. ‘Never mind. Could you tell her I’ll see her up at the Dolphin tomorrow if I don’t manage to catch her before?’
Julia nodded and went back into the parlour, leaving Eden to go on her way.
In the end, she’d decided to go back to the cottage and get lunch there. During the first couple of days, being here had been new and welcome, but now she was beginning to feel like a spare part, rattling around the town by herself and not really knowing what to do. There were only so many hours someone could spend on the beach staring out to sea. She’d never appreciated just how much structure having a job created. Faced with sixmonths of very little structure, it was starkly apparent that if she wasn’t careful, the peace she’d come here to find would end up driving her mad. She had a few shifts at the pub to look forward to, but she would have to fill her days with more than that.
After eating a cheese sandwich and an entire family pack of crisps, she went out to explore the cottage’s back garden. As with the front garden, most of the plants were hardy and weather-resistant trees and shrubs, but while the front lawn had been replaced by gravel, here at the back there was still grass. It was a bit unruly and dotted with dandelions, coltsfoot and daisies, and Eden assumed that Margery – the owner – didn’t get time to do a lot of gardening. She couldn’t see the sea from the shaded rear garden, but she could hear and smell it – the boom of the waves hitting the cliffs below echoing on salt-tanged air.
Her delight at finding the old beehives Livia had mentioned was immediately tempered by the fact that they’d obviously been out of use for a very long time. Moss and mould grew over their wooden fronts, and one even had a section missing. Seeing these abandoned dwellings made her sad. A further search revealed the chicken coops similarly destitute. Eden pulled away some of the long grass that obscured them, daydreaming of an alternate universe where she might own Four Winds and live here, with bees and chickens, a dog and a handsome husband and a life that was like something out of a romance novel. But a life like that wasn’t for people like her.
She was snapped from her daydream by her phone vibrating in her pocket. She pulled it out and frowned, ready to throw it across the garden in frustration. Caitlin again. Why couldn’t her sister leave her alone? Why was she so keen to twist the knife? Hadn’t she already told Eden exactly what she thought of her? Wasn’t Eden carrying enough guilt? She certainly didn’t need Caitlin adding to it. But Caitlin seemed to have other ideas.
Uninvited, the image of Caitlin’s face came into Eden’s mind. Not the Caitlin she’d grown up with, the older sister who’d looked out for her, who’d patiently endured her whims, who’d been resigned to her caprices and her place as the obvious favourite child. Not that Caitlin, but a Caitlin who’d looked at Eden the day of their mother’s funeral with a mix of confusion, sorrow and blame.
Eden closed her eyes. She didn’t want to remember that day.
The ringing stopped, but it was followed moments later by a text message. Eden’s finger hovered over the icon. She wanted to open it, but at the same time she didn’t. What if the message was something she didn’t want to see? Once she’d read it, it would be too late to undo. Then again, it might be something she needed to see. If she didn’t look, she’d never know.
Where the hell are you? What’s going on? Dad’s worried sick.
I can’t say, but I’m fine. I’ll message him.
Eden locked the phone again and slipped it into her pocket, absently taking a seat on a bench that hardly looked as if it would take her weight. If this was meant to sound as if she was forgiven, it wasn’t very convincing. And Eden didn’t feel as if she deserved forgiveness anyway, even if it was on offer. How could it be forgiveness? How could they forgive what she’d done when she couldn’t even forgive herself? In any case, Caitlin had made her feelings clear in the days before Eden had left London, and none of them suggested someone who was ready to make peace any time soon. She’d have to message her dad, of course, and she would, just as soon as she could decide what to say.
Her gaze went back to the mouldering beehives and the half-buried chicken coop. Someone had once been blessed with anidyllic life in this place. But all good things came to an end, and just like that time in Four Winds, the charmed life Eden had once led was over too. For what she’d done, she was on her own now, and that was the way it had to be. But did it have to be that way for her dad? She had to admit, Caitlin had a point. More than a point, and it wasn’t like Eden hadn’t already felt like ignoring her dad wasn’t entirely selfless.
She got out her phone to send him a message. She’d call at some point, but she needed more courage than she had at that moment. But a message to let him know she was OK and would phone – that was fair enough, wasn’t it? It would put his mind at rest, which was what Caitlin had asked for.
Hi, Dad, hope you’re OK. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I need…
She paused, read the message again and then deleted it.
Hi, Dad
Eden stopped again, finger hovering over the keyboard. Was she overthinking this? The situation called for nothing more than a brief note to let him know she was OK, and yet, at the same time, it seemed to demand so much more than that. Her gaze went to the beehives and the chicken coops. She thought for a minute. And then began again.
Hope you’re OK, Dad. I know you’re not OK, but I hope you’re as OK as you can be. I know I said I’d call, but I haven’t been able to yet, and I’m sorry about that. I promise I will soon. Caitlin said you were worried. Please don’t worry about me. I’m fine, and I’m safe. I hope you’re not upset if I don’t tell you where I am. I will, but I don’t want toyet. It’s nothing you’ve done – please understand that. I need time, and I think you do too.
Eden read the message back. She wasn’t entirely happy with it, despite it being the third attempt. It didn’t convey the depth of what she felt, and it didn’t address his concerns either – at least, not in any meaningful way. But she didn’t have the words that would do either of those things the justice they deserved. This, as imperfect as it was, would have to do. She supposed it was better than nothing. And surely her dad understood why she’d had to leave?
Caitlin had called her selfish, but Eden still maintained that, while some of her motives might have been selfish – even if unconsciously so – her absence was best for everyone. There would be a time when things were less raw and she would be able to see them again, but in this moment, she felt as if she was the last person her dad wanted to see, even if he had told Caitlin he was worried. So the text would give him some reassurance, and perhaps that would be enough.
She pressed send and then waited. No reply came, but she wasn’t surprised by that. Her dad wasn’t one of those people who had their phones attached to their palm. In fact, he probably didn’t even check it more than two or three times a day, so perhaps Eden would have to wait a few hours for a reply. With that in mind, she dropped the phone into her pocket and went inside.
CHAPTER SIX
