Love Mends (6 page)

Chapter 17

Jean Mason was on her hands and knees. Although the children took turns to sweep the floor every day, she liked to give it a 'real' clean at least once a week—sometimes more often. She only did it when she had the house to herself, and could be sure no one would walk across it with their muddy boots—not for a few hours at least.

“Jean!”

She almost banged her head on the underside of the table.

“Arthur? What are you doing here? What's wrong? Is it the children?”

Arthur Mason rarely came back to the house during the day. Once he'd left in the morning, she rarely saw him again until late afternoon, and sometimes not until dinner time.

“The kids are all right. Everything's all right.”

“Are you sure?” She clambered to her feet. “Why are you back?”

“I just wanted a quiet word about Anne.”

“What's the matter with her?”

“Nothing.” He hesitated. “At least, I don't think so. It's just... ”

“What?”

“I don't know. She doesn't seem... ”

“If you don't spit it out I'm going to thump you.”

“She seems quiet.”

“Quiet? Is that it?”

“She isn't herself. Haven't you noticed? She seems... I don't know—sad?”

“And, you really don't know why?” Jean smiled.

“You do?” He looked puzzled.

“Arthur Mason. You're a good man, but you know nothing about women at all, do you?”

“I guess not. Has she spoken to you then?”

“She doesn't have to. It's obvious to anyone.”

“Not to me.”

“Obvious to anyone except you.”

“So, what's wrong?”

“Tom.”

“Tom? What about him?”

“Didn't you notice how Anne was whenever he was around? She was totally smitten.”

“I had no idea.” He shrugged.

“You really are hopeless, aren't you?”

“Did Tom know?”

“I'm not sure, but I can tell you one thing for certain. The feeling was mutual.”

“So, they both felt the same way, but neither of them told the other?”

“That's about the size of it, I reckon.”

Arthur walked across the floor, and took a seat. Jean glanced down at the muddy footprints, sighed, and then joined him at the table.

“Will she be okay?” Arthur asked.

“She'll be fine. It will just take some time.”

“Right.” Arthur stared out of the window. “Good.”

“There's really no need to worry.” She tried to sound reassuring.

“I'm okay. It's just that there's something I didn't mention to you.”

Jean waited for her husband to continue.

“When I took Tom to the boat... ”

“Yes?”

“It suddenly occurred to me that he would make a fine replacement for Alex Williams, so... ” Arthur hesitated. “So, I offered him the job. I knew the island council would back me.”

“What did he say?”

“I'm going to telephone him on Friday to get his answer. Have I made a terrible mistake?”

“It sounds like a great idea to me.”

“It does?” Arthur sounded relieved.

“Yes.”

“Should I tell Anne? Maybe it will cheer her up?” He stood up.

“No. Sit down. You can't tell her until you have Tom's answer. If you build her hopes up, and then... ”

“Of course.” Arthur sat down again.

“What time are you going to call him?” Jean was impatient to find out what Tom's decision would be.

Chapter 18

“Bet you're glad to be back in the twenty first century,” Mickey Boston said when Tom walked into the office. Mickey was the controller who looked after all of the company's field engineers. “We thought you'd fallen off the edge of the earth.”

“Morning, Mickey.”

“So, what was it like in the land that time forgot?”

“West Isle's a beautiful place.”

“Someone told me they haven't got Internet.”

“No Internet, no TV, no mobile phones—it was great”

“Are you having me on? Sounds like a nightmare. What did you do with yourself for two weeks?”

“I was working most of the time. In the evenings, I relaxed and did some reading.” Tom knew the beauties of Secret Cove would be lost on Mickey. “What have you got for me today?”

“Funny you should ask. I have a couple of lovely jobs just for you—both of them inside the M25.”

“Great. Thanks.” After two weeks of walking, and travelling by horse and carriage, the thought of tackling the M25 was depressing.

As always, at that time of the morning, the motorway resembled a car park. All five lanes had ground to a halt. Tom should have been worried he'd be late for his first appointment. He didn't care. He'd get there eventually. The traffic jam gave him time to think. In truth, he'd done nothing but think since Arthur Mason had spoken to him on the quayside. The crossing had been much calmer on the way back to the mainland. Tom had sat on deck, running Arthur's words back and forth in his mind. The offer had come as a complete surprise.  He'd been given the opportunity to take over Alex Williams' job. Arthur had asked Tom to give the offer serious consideration, and said he would telephone on Friday night to get his answer.

It was possibly the biggest decision of Tom's life. West Isle was beautiful, but could he live there permanently? A short visit was one thing—this was something altogether different. Arthur had made it clear the pay would be low, but the job would come with a cottage which would be paid for by the island council. There were so many things which attracted him to the island, but one above all others.

Anne had said she'd miss him, but had that just been words? Would she have said the same thing to any visitor? He wished there was some way he could speak with her. There were so many reasons to go back to West Isle, but they all amounted to nothing if Anne didn't feel the same way as he did.

**************

The week dragged. Endless hours on the road did nothing to raise his spirits. It was fortunate he could have done his job blindfolded because, most of the time, his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of West Isle and, in particular, of Anne.

Friday night eventually arrived. Arthur Mason had said he'd telephone at seven o' clock. Sure enough, at one minute before the hour, the phone rang.

“Tom? It's Arthur Mason.”

“Hello Arthur. I was waiting for your call.”

“I thought you must have been with the speed you picked up. How are you?”

“Fine thanks. How's the family?”

“Everyone's well. Busy as always.”

“That's good.”

“Tom, do you have an answer for me?”

“I do.”

Chapter 19

“Anne!” Jean Mason shouted. It was the only way she could make herself heard over the wind, which had been buffeting the island for the last six hours.

Anne turned around. She'd been busy working on the fence when she thought she heard someone call her name. Her mother was standing in the doorway of the farmhouse.

“Will you go down to the quay?” Jean said after Anne had followed her into the relative quiet of the kitchen.

“Now?”

“Yes please. The boat should dock in the next forty minutes.”

“What about the fence?”

“It will have to wait. There's an important package on the boat for your dad.”

“Where is Dad?”

“He's in the village.”

“What's in the package?”

“I don't know—your dad didn't say. Just that it was important.”

“Will the boat be running today? The wind is incredibly strong.”

“I'm not sure. It'll be touch and go, but you'll need to be there just in case.”

Anne nodded. She'd hoped to get her work finished early, so she could visit Secret Cove. That wasn't going to happen now. To make matters worse, it was almost certain to be a fruitless journey. The high winds would probably mean the boat crossings would be cancelled.

When she was halfway there, the rain began to fall. Anne pulled her hood down over her head. She'd timed it so she'd arrive five minutes after the boat was due to dock. She didn't want to be there any longer than she had to.

It came as no surprise to find there was no boat at the quay. After bringing the carriage to a halt, she sheltered her eyes against the wind and rain, so she could look out to sea. To her surprise, she saw the boat. It would dock in another five minutes according to her calculations. There was a lone figure on the deck. He appeared to be leaning over the side. Whoever it was, had chosen a bad day to make the crossing. Anne hadn't heard talk of any visitors to the island. She wondered why there was no one else around to greet them.

The boat took a little longer to reach shore than she'd expected. When it did, she waited for the parcels to be brought from below deck. She still had no idea what she was meant to be collecting.

“I don't think West Isle wants me here.” A weak voice came from her left.

“Tom?”

He was sitting on his case on the quayside. She'd been so intent on waiting for her parcel to be brought up that she hadn't noticed him clamber off the boat.

“You look terrible,” Anne said. “Even worse than last time.”

“I feel it.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Didn't your mum or dad tell you?”

“Tell me what? Did they know you were coming? You're lucky I'm here at all. I only came to collect... ” Just then, the penny dropped. “You're the parcel I'm here to collect, aren't you?”

“I guess so. I hope you're not disappointed.”

“Of course not. Here, let me take your case.”

Tom didn't argue because he felt a little unsteady on his feet. It took all of his energy just to climb into the carriage.

As they set off for Marley, the rain eased off.

“Why are you here?” Anne asked. “Did one of the generators break down?”

“After
I
serviced them? Of course not.” Tom managed a smile.

“Why then?”

“I've been offered a job on the island.”

Anne tugged on the reins, and brought the carriage to a halt.

“Here? On West Isle? Mr Williams' job?”

Tom nodded.

“Are you going to take it?” Anne's face lit up. “Are you going to live here?”

“If the islanders will have me?”

“They will,” Anne gushed. “Everyone likes you.”

“What about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want me to live on the island?”

“Of course.” Anne blushed.

“Have you missed me?”

Anne shuffled on the wooden seat. She'd missed him terribly, although she hadn't been able to tell anyone.

“I've missed you,” he said.

“You have?”

“You're the main reason I took the job.”

Anne had never been so happy, but didn't know how to put her feelings into words.

“We'd better get back to Marley before the rain comes back on,” she said.

**************

Jean and Arthur Mason were waiting in the kitchen.

“I see you've got the parcel,” Arthur said, as Tom followed Anne into the farmhouse.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Anne blushed again.

“We thought you'd enjoy the surprise,” Jean said. She turned to Tom. “It's good to see you again, Tom. You don't seem to have much luck with the crossings.”

Tom managed a smile. He was just starting to recover.

“You should have taken him straight to his new home,” Arthur said.

“Sorry.” Anne turned to Tom. She hadn't thought to ask where he would be living on West Isle.

“Don't worry,” Tom said. “It's very close by.”

“In grandma's cottage?”

Tom nodded. “Someone is going to have to show me how to use that cooker though. I can't expect you to provide me with meals indefinitely.

“I'll show you how to use it,” Anne volunteered.

“You better get yourself over there, Tom. The sooner you unpack, the sooner you'll be settled in,” Jean said. “Katherine and David will be back from school soon. They'll want to visit.”