A Home For Her Baby
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Ali sipped her cappuccino slowly, still trying to process what she’d seen.
“So...” Jake asked. “Are you going to tell me what’s up or is this purely business?”
Putting down her cup she looked up at him, smiling. “Sorry...right now it was about me taking pity on a homeless boy this morning and giving him way too much money. I just saw him now though, down a side street, obviously buying drugs, and it sickened me... I thought I was helping but I’ve probably just made his situation worse. What if he ODs and it’s my fault?”
Jason laughed. “Oh Ali, you really have been out of the city for too long. You can’t help people like that. They’re on a road to destruction I’m afraid. I see it every day when I’m driving home.”
“But he’s someone’s son,” Ali cried. “And surely everyone deserves to have some help.”
“When you put it like that,” Jason responded. “I guess they do. Anyone’s kid can go down the wrong road I suppose... But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there, Ali. Look, we’re friends aren’t we? Tell me what’s been happening to you first and then we can discuss work.”
Ali shook her head slowly. The thought of unburdening herself to someone outside of the tragedy in Jenny Brown’s Bay was so tempting...and yet. “It’s my problem, Jason,” she said. “I’m here to see if you have any work for me...that’s all.”
Jason folded his arms across his chest, stroking his neat brown beard. “I have plenty of time today and as I just said...we can discuss work when we’ve talked about you. We go back a long way, Ali, why, you knew me before I was a hotshot editor.”
“Well you’re certainly that now,” Ali remarked, lightening the mood.
Jason grinned. “And proud of it, too. Anyway, back to you... I want to help and so would Laura if she was here. Look how you were there for us and the kids when our house got flooded, not to mention all the other times. I’m not taking no for an answer I’m afraid. I’ll go get us another coffee and then you can tell me all about it.”
By the time Jason came back with the coffees he’d obviously given his approach some thought. Sitting down opposite her he looked Ali in the eye.
“Why don’t you tell me about your dad first,” he suggested. “Last time I saw you you’d just met up with him again as I remember...”
“He died,” she blurted out and suddenly the floodgates opened. “Sorry...it’s all still a bit raw. He was ill when I found him you see...with cancer. He lived alone in a little fishing village in the northeast; he had friends to help him of course but no one close. We talked, a lot, about his life and why Mum left with me when I was small, but he didn’t bear a grudge. In fact he was sorry to hear that she’d died and he blamed himself for her leaving him all those years ago. I really got to know him in those last few weeks and I came to understand something of the fisherman’s passion for the sea—it’s a way of life, a vocation, I suppose, and it causes rifts in so many marriages. He loved it though to his dying day and he opened my eyes to the magnificence of the sea... That’s why I ended up at Jenny Brown’s Bay.”
“Jenny Brown’s Bay,” Jason repeated slowly. “Is that a fishing town then?”
Ali nodded. “It’s just a village really. I still have a cottage rented there. Jake and I split you see...”
“Well I’m not surprised at that,” Jason cut in. “Never did like the guy.”
“But you only ever met him a couple of times.”
“Two times too many then. You’re well rid of him.”
“I’ve come to realize that,” said Ali sadly. “Anyway, I was still cut up about my dad when Bobby, a student of Jake’s who I’d gotten to know, suggested I stay at his parents’ pub for a while. I’d decided to write an article on fishing, in memory of my dad. He thought I could do some research there.”
“And did you?”
“Oh yes,” she nodded eagerly, remembering. “I used to have long chats with Bobby’s brother Tom, he was passionate about fishing just like Dad... In fact all Bobby’s family were. And I talked to some of the old fishermen, too, they used to come to the pub in the evenings. I learned a lot from them...except perhaps about the danger.”
Jason leaned toward her, speaking in a gentle tone. “So what happened there?” he asked. “Obviously it was something traumatic...or is this all just about your dad?”
For a moment Ali went quiet. “In a way it’s about Dad,” she began, struggling to keep her voice steady. “But there’s more.”
Jason waited for her to go on, saying nothing.
“Bobby suggested I go on a night fishing trip with him and his brothers, you know, for my research. Tom was dead against it...they had a row. He said he wasn’t prepared to take a rookie on a night trip, especially a woman, as it was far too dangerous. You know me, I was furious and, bottom line, he gave in and said that although he didn’t approve, since his father, Jed, didn’t seem to mind, I could go along. After he’d agreed, in fact, he found me some waterproofs and gave me advice about the trip... I was so looking forward to it—it was important to my dad that I scatter his ashes in the sea.”
“And I’m guessing it went wrong,” Jason said.
Ali looked at him ashen-faced. “There was a storm, Bobby drowned and it was all my fault. I took a stupid risk, didn’t listen to orders. When I went overboard he jumped in to save me...”
He reached across to place a sympathetic hand on her arm. “Accidents happen, Ali...you can’t take all the blame.”
“I can this time,” she said quietly.
“You must have liked it there if you rented a cottage,” Jake said “You should go back...face your demons I suppose you could call it.”
Ali nodded. “I’ve thought about it. I was considering writing a book instead of just an article, and maybe make it about Bobby. I could still dedicate it to Dad, too.”
“It’s a lovely idea,” Jason agreed. “Tell you what, why don’t you come and stay with us for a couple of days. Laura would love to have a chat with you and the kids will cheer you up and bring you down to earth. Then you can decide whether to come to work at The Times or go back to your fishing village and write.”
“Deal,” Ali cried, holding out her hand to shake his. “And, Jason...”
“Yes?”
“Thanks.”
With a broad grin he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll ring Laura right now,” he said. “She’ll be over the moon...and, Ali...”
“Yes?”
“If you do decide to stay and work here for a while then you’re welcome to our spare room you know.”
“I might just take you up on that. It will give me time to get my head straight and let things settle down a bit before I go back to Jenny Brown’s Bay.”
“Or not?” Jason responded.
Ali shrugged. “Who knows.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE SEA WAS already rough when the boat set out across the bay in the crisp light of dawn. “Are you sure about this?” Ned called above the chugging of the engine.
Tom looked up at the rolling gray clouds; ice-cold spray splattered across his face and gulls screamed overhead as The Sea Hawk cut through the waves. “What do you think?” he responded, looking across at his brother.
“That we should have done it sooner.”
“Then let’s go fishing,” Tom cried, feeling more alive than he had since they set off on that fateful fishing trip. Deep down he’d been dreading going back out onto the water but now he realized he’d been wrong to delay it, for the ocean still felt like home, just as it always had before.
As if trying to make up for the tragedy it had caused, the sea was abundant with its offerings. When they got to the fishing ground both men worked hard and fast, hauling in cod after cod, delighting in the job they loved and exhilarated to be back out on the open waves.
It wasn’t until he started to steer the heavily stocked boat back toward Jenny Brown’s Bay that Tom’s mind rewound to that last fishing trip. He’d been on automatic since the accident, he could see that now, trying not to allow himself to think or feel, just getting on with what had to be done in the best way he could. Bobby’s death had aged his parents, to survive a son held a terrible guilt, he guessed, so it felt as if he had to step up and take responsibility for the whole family. A rush of sorrow dulled the triumph of today’s catch as his eyes fell on the rolling waves ahead; he’d been determined to stay strong for everyone but now, back in what felt like normality again, he felt suddenly drained.
“You okay, Tom?” Ned asked, peering at his older brother with concern.
Tom felt himself wilt and leaned forward over the wheel. “Just tired I guess.”
“Go and have a lie-down,” Ned urged, taking the wheel. “I can get this little lady home no problem.”
“You sure?” To Tom the idea of just letting go for a while seemed very appealing.
Ned grinned. “Hey... You can count on me. I’m with Search and Rescue you know.”
Stepping back Tom slapped him gratefully on the shoulder. “So you are. Have I ever told you how proud I am of that?”
Ned’s smile suddenly faded as memories kicked in. “Couldn’t save Bobby though could I?”
“Not your fault,” Tom insisted. “No one could have saved him.”
“She could—” Ned blurted out “—by staying away from us.”
For a moment Tom just looked at him, a rush of protectiveness for Ali bringing a heavy lump into his chest. “It was just circumstance, Ned...” he said slowly. “Fate. You can’t lay blame like that. I’m sure she’s as sorry about it as anyone.”
“Sorry she may be but she’s torn this family apart. And where is she now...back in her husband’s arms I’m guessing. Well I sure hope she’s not happy.”
“Bitterness only hurts the bearer,” Tom said quietly. “You have to let go of it, Ned, or it’ll tear you up.”
Ned’s knuckles turned white as he held on to the wheel. “I think I’m prepared to take that chance. Now you go below and get some rest before I change my mind...and, Tom?”
“Yes...”
“She’s nothing but trouble so stop defending her.”
Remembering the pain in Ali’s honey-brown eyes Tom was not so sure he could do that. Resisting the urge to say anything more, he just raised his hand; it didn’t really matter anyway because she was gone and he didn’t think there was much likelihood of her ever coming back.
* * *
ALI WAITED NERVOUSLY inside the busy pub where Jake had agreed to meet her. It was Laura who’d persuaded her to go. “You need to sort it out once and for all,” she insisted. “Tell him that it’s over and you want a divorce.”
Jason had backed her up. “Laura’s right you know, Ali. I’ve told you over and over that you need to put your life straight. You can’t move on until you’ve finished with the past.”
“But I’m not sure where I want to move on to,” she’d told them. “I love my work but obviously I can’t stay with you indefinitely... I mean, it’s been great and I really appreciate you having me but you don’t want a lodger forever...”
“You can stay as long as you like,” Laura had insisted. “Can’t she, Jason?”
“Of course,” he agreed, looking intently at Ali. “But I don’t think she really wants to.”
“Then what do you think I want, Jason?” Ali asked. “Because I sure don’t know... I mean, well, I’ve loved working with you these last few weeks but...”
“You need to go back to your cottage by the sea and sort your head out,” he told her with no hesitation.
“Yes,” agreed Laura. “Jason’s right. It’s obvious that Jenny Brown’s Bay is where your heart lies... There’s too much emotion there for you to switch it off without facing up to what happened, and it’s the only place where you’ll find out what you really do want from your life.”
“If money’s the problem you can do some work for the paper from there,” suggested Jason.
Feeling suddenly emotional at the generosity of her friends, Ali gulped back tears. “Sorry,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “And thanks, Jason, for that offer but, to be honest, my dad left enough funds for me to take some time out... That’s why I was going to write the article.”
“Then make it a book,” he urged. “For the young man who drowned and for all the other fishermen, too...like your dad.”
Ali went quiet, drawn by the suggestion but so unsure. “I’ve still got some work to do for the paper though.”
“Well finish that first then,” cut in Laura. “And anyway it’s only a few weeks to Christmas and we wouldn’t enjoy it if we thought you were all on your own. Stay with us for that at least, we insist, but then I do agree with Jake that you need to go back and face all that heartache and emotion you left behind, it’s the only way to get past it. You need to sort things out with Jake first though...”
“Thanks for the kind offer of Christmas.” Ali said. “I really appreciate it...and after that we’ll see. The trouble is that I’ve never actually written a book, what if its rubbish?”
“It won’t be,” Jason insisted. “Your writing’s first class—all you need to do is get all the information you can and then listen to your heart.”
Now, sitting in a bar sipping a glass of wine as she waited for her ex to appear, Ali thought about that conversation for what felt like the millionth time; since Jason and Laura had determinedly planted the idea in her head she’d become more and more drawn to the idea of writing a book for Bobby, her dad and all the other fishermen. Now, finally, the work she’d been doing for Jason was finished and on Laura’s strict orders she’d taken the plunge and rung Jake. Their marriage was over, she’d never been more sure of anything, and today she was going to tell him straight.
With Jason’s confidence in her journalistic competence buoying her, the idea of writing the book began to consume Ali; it felt like a need, a way to try and put things straight...or as straight as they could ever be. She’d even contacted Elsa May Malone Evans, the owner of her cottage, to arrange another six months’ lease so that she didn’t lose the option of going back to live there. Seeing Jake today felt like the last piece of the puzzle and she hoped that when it was slotted into place she would know what to do with her life.
She’d felt so certain about her meeting with Jake, but now that the moment was here, apprehension flooded over her. Whatever was she going to say to the man she’d lived with for almost three years, the man she’d sworn to love forever; that promise seemed like nonsense now, and she silently vowed to never give herself so wholeheartedly again. The failure of this marriage made a mockery of love and that was sad.
As she saw him appear along the street, however, dapper and stylish, sure of himself and full of self-confidence, her apprehension faded. How could she have ever believed that he was the man for her, she wondered, remembering Tom’s tough, quiet approach to a life that was driven by his passion for the sea? Putting Jake straight about ending their marriage no longer seemed like a problem, more just a means to an end.
He approached across the busy bar carrying a pint of beer and sat, giving her his best, well-practiced smile. “So,” he said, taking a gulp of the amber liquid. “You’ve finally seen sense.”
“Hello, Jake,” she said. “And yes, you’re right—I have come to my senses. I just came to meet you so that I could tell you face-to-face. I’m filing for divorce and I’ll be coming for the rest of my things tomorrow. Whatever we had is long gone, Jake. I wish you happiness and a successful future but it won’t be with me.”
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