Page 75 of Snow Falls Over Starry Cove

17

Mansfield Park, Jane Austen

The only place I can be alone now is at my new secret spot – a tiny bridge over a brook at the other end of the village, just before it widens into the river. Here I sit, contemplating how badly everything is going. My grandmother, whom I’d half expected to love me despite being strangers, has decided that it’s not going to happen. The past that I was so desperately trying to piece together is nowhere to be found. My parents had made it literally impossible for me to have any good memories whatsoever and if I was hoping for a happier future upon finding my grandmother, well, tough luck for me.

Interrupting my thoughts, my mobile rings as Stephen’s picture appears on my screen. I sigh, wondering if he’s going to make my mood even worse, if that’s at all possible.

‘Hi,’ I say simply.

‘Uh-oh. What’s happened now?’

‘Nothing. But seeing as you called, can I run something by you?’

‘I’ve only got a couple of minutes,’ he warns. ‘Is it going to be long?’

Is it? How long does it take to give up on your future or kill a dream?

‘I was thinking about my inheritance…’

‘Yes? Have you found any buyers yet?’

Here’s another one who wants me to sell up. ‘Buyers?’

‘For your assets. The sooner you find buyers, the sooner you can leave that dreaded shithole and come back.’

I snort. If he only knew. If I could only bring myself to tell him that part of me would actually like to give it a go, that I want to ask him to consider it seriously.

‘What is it, Emmie? You sound miserable.’

I huff. ‘My grandmother isn’t very well disposed towards me. I thought she’d mellow, but—’

‘I told you she was trouble,’ Stephen scolds me. ‘I told you from the start, Emmie.’

‘Stephen, this isn’t a good time for I told you sos. If you’re not in the mood to be nice, call me back when you are.’

‘Emmie, it’s not going to be getting any better, you know. I think you made a huge mistake even entertaining the idea of meeting her. You want to think long and hard about your next step. Even Mum has her reservations.’

‘Your mum?’ I sigh, suddenly weary –wearyof it all. Weary of him, weary of Audrey. Of everything. ‘Stephen, I was hoping to speak withyou. That you could help me to clear my head and cheer me up. But I see I’m always hoping and coming up empty-handed. I’m hanging up now. Goodbye.’

‘Emmie, come on, I’m—’

As I ring off, the sound of silence is pure bliss. How much longer am I going to let people treat me like rubbish? How much longer am I going to put off making my own decisions? There isn’t one thing that Stephen doesn’t push his nose into, from what I wear to how I speak. When is he ever going to let me be me? I’m a woman chained to a rocket that’s about to shoot off into the sky of his mother’s London high fashion society and I can’t seem to break free without hurting anyone but myself. I can’t go on like this. Something somewhere has to give.

Because there’s no use in hiding it from myself anymore. It’s time to stop teetering and tottering over the brink of a new life. I should just dive in. Would Stephen be able to change in order for us to enjoy our new life together, or am I going to have to make the decision to leave him and my life in London, once and for all?

And that’s when, sitting on the dock, my feet swinging over the water, I come to a decision I thought I’d never make. I pull the SIM card out of my phone and flick it into the sea.

‘That classifies as littering, you know,’ comes a familiar voice at my back.

I turn and who else could it be but my leper buddy-cum-business partner-cum-opponent Jago Moon. I shrug and redirect my attention to the moving waters before me.

‘Call the police, call your solicitor. I don’t care…’ I say.

‘Is it that bad that you don’t want to be connected to the world anymore?’ he asks, dropping to his haunches and sitting next to me on the wooden dock.

‘Look who’s talking – the village hermit,’ I mumble.

Village hermit dripping with women, apparently.

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