Page 58 of Coming Home to Winter Island
There’s no way we can let the gin fail at this stage. There’s no way Hector can be let down again. The weather turns and the rain comes in, and we gather up the seaweed, Hector and the dogs and Lachlan and I move as fast as we can, laughing as we get caught in a huge shower, all the way back to the big house to dry the seaweed in front of the range.Back home, I find myself thinking, and wishing I hadn’t. Unless we can get the gin recipe sorted, this will be no one’s home. It will be sold off; who knows, maybe even knocked down, given its current state, and the past will be lost forever.
Chapter Thirty-three
I switch on my phone the next morning to get an update on the crowdfunding and see nineteen missed calls, mostly from Joe, but some from Jess too, as well as several voice messages. And then the phone jumps to life in my hand and starts ringing.
‘Hey, Rubes!’
‘Jess!’ I reply excitedly. Then I check the time. Jess never rings anyone in the morning. We just aren’t morning people. We work late, then stay up late to unwind, and mornings are catch-up-on-sleep time. Or they were until I came here. ‘Is everything okay? What’s happened?’ All sorts of scenarios are running through my head, first and foremost: who’s died?
‘Everything’s fine,’ she says with a deep early-morning huskiness to her voice. I let out a sigh of relief, then check myself. There has to be a reason for her ringing this early; before nine a.m. is more like the middle of the night for her. Ah, maybe she hasn’t been to bed! That makes sense! This is Jess in after-show party mode.
‘How have the gigs been?’ I ask.
‘Great. Lulu did great. I mean...’ she corrects herself, ‘not as great as you would have done, but great.’ Strangely, I don’t feel a thing. A few weeks ago, I was terrified of this young woman taking my place in the band, taking my place in my world. But now, something has shifted and I’m pleased for her. Really pleased.
‘That’s great. She’s worked hard. She deserves a shot in the limelight.’
There’s a silence at the other end of the phone that I read as shocked.
‘Jess?’
‘But what about you? That’s why I’m ringing!’
‘Me? I’m...fine. I’m...’ What am I? ‘Well, the storm did some serious damage, brought down some trees, but the villagers have been out clearing the road. Did I tell you there’s just one road around the island, and there’s this stream, the burn they call it, that I follow on my runs, all the way across the island, up to this waterfall—’
‘Ruby!’ She cuts across me.
‘Yes?’
‘I mean, how are you? How’s your voice? You’re supposed to be in Tenerife. Where are you? When are we getting you back? Joe seems a bit confused about your plans!’
I suddenly feel like I’ve been tripped up, and I think about the missed calls.
‘Look, I don’t know what’s going on, Rubes, but there’s a big gig next week. The first of February. It’s being recorded for BBC radio. One of the other acts has dropped out. There’ll be loads of coverage. It’s a really big deal. We could do with you back here for that!’
‘Wow! That’s massive! Network radio!’ my mouth is saying. That’s the day before the tea party, is what I’m thinking.
‘Yes!’ shrieks Jess. ‘And now you’re back on track...well, I say that;areyou back on track?’ It seems she takes my silence as a yes. ‘Amazing! Now you’re back, we’re going to knock it out of the park!’
‘I, er...’ Oh God! She wants me to come back and do the gig, but it’s the day before our crowdfunding deadline to try and save Teach Mhor! I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I can’t leave before the tea party. I just can’t. ‘I don’t think my voice will be back in time, Jess. It needs more rest.’
There is silence again at the other end of the phone.
‘What’s going on, Rubes?’ she says eventually. ‘Are you leaving us?’
‘What? No!’ Leaving the band is the last thing I want to do. ‘No, I’m not leaving you. That’s why I’m...away. Getting better. I want this more than ever. I want to be back singing!’
‘Really?’ says Jess. I look out of the window and check the weather for my run, and find myself wondering if the seals will be out.
‘Of course,’ I say. I’m thrilled to hear from Jess, but I’m also keen to get outside and take in the air. ‘Look, why don’t we catch up later? I need to do some exercise...vocal exercises. But I want to hear all the news, how everyone is.’ I find myself telling a small white lie. ‘Let’s talk this evening, when...when my voice is feeling stronger.’
‘Really?’ says Jess, suddenly sounding a lot less enthusiastic.
‘Look, I know you’d like me to be back for the gig, and if I could, I would.’ I can feel myself digging a deeper and deeper hole. ‘You know I would. The band is everything to me.’
‘Really?’ she repeats.
‘Yes, Jess. I just want to get my voice back to how it was,’ which is true.
