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Authors: Lisa J. Hobman

Tags: #A Bridge Over the Atlantic Companion Novel—to be read AFTER BOTA

Bridge of Hope (14 page)

BOOK: Bridge of Hope
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She made her way toward the boat, nodding her head. “This is you, then, eh? I hadn’t twigged that you did excursions when you said you were working on your boat this afternoon.”

“Aye, it’s my day job. You up for a trip out?” I really hoped she was.

“Why not? I could do with a bit of fresh air. How many of us will there be?” Her question made me smirk. The day I’d thought would bring in paying passengers hadn’t brought in a soul.

“You’re it. Bit of a slow day. I was just about to give up and go out by myself.”

“Are you sure you want me to tag along?” She frowned and fidgeted.

“Aye, why not? I get sick o’ my own company. Get enough of it, day in, day out.” I held out my hand to her, and her cheeks set on fire. I helped her onto the boat and she immediately thrust a tenner toward me. I wasn’t going to take her money so I waved it away, shaking my head defiantly, and she got the message.

She made small talk about the boat’s name and I told her about my old dog Little Blue that the boat was named for. He was a smashing dog that I had raised from a pup when I lived with my parents.

When I asked her if she wanted the running commentary that I usually gave to passengers, she gave me another puzzled glance which made me laugh. “You know,” I said, gesturing out at the water. “… and on my left we have a seal and on my right, oh, look, there’s another seal.”

She laughed too and it was such a lovely sound. “No, it’s okay. I just wanted to get some fresh air, to be honest. Colin in the shop recommended a boat trip. Feel free to pretend I’m not here.”

Pretending she wasn’t here was something I knew I couldn’t do. It was nice to be with her and not be pissing her off for a change. We set off on the still water with the slight breeze in our faces. The farther out we got, the chillier it became. Once we had travelled out far enough just to see the land in the distance, I cut the engine and dropped the anchor. I reached down and picked up the flask of coffee I’d brought and handed Mallory a tin cup.

“Thought we could sit and chill for a bit here, is that okay? It’s usually a good place for seal spotting.”

She inhaled deeply and looked out at the view. “Yes, I suppose. Am I not keeping you from anything? Another job perhaps?”

I took a gulp of the coffee in my cup. “Na’, pub at night, boat trips three days a week, and odd jobs two days a week… oh, and entertainer at the pub on my nights off now, that’s me.”

“Crikey! I’m not sure I could keep up with all that. I think I’ll just stick to making stuff, plain and simple.”

She was right. Keeping busy was the thing to do. It’s what I’d been doing for the last eight months. “Aye, you should do that. It’s good to have something to focus on at times like this.”

She seemed to drift off and a deep melancholy settled over her. I watched her change before my eyes, and my heart ached for the pain I knew she was feeling. I had the same pain.

Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on my knees. “It sounds like a cliché, but it does get easier with time. You just need to keep busy.” It suddenly dawned on me that that’s exactly what I’d been doing these past months since Mairi’s death.

“Is that what you’re doing with your gazillion different jobs?” she asked.

I looked up and was met with her beautiful but pained blue eyes. I wanted to comfort her, but as soon as the thought popped into my head, it was followed by guilt. “Na’. I like the variety. Don’t get bored that way.” I didn’t feel like owning up to my true feelings. That would require more introspection and I was scared of what else I might find. I took another gulp of my coffee. “Have you started eating properly yet?” I asked. I knew she’d be angry at my intrusive question, but it was a way to keep the barriers in place.

“Why do you seem so interested in my eating habits?” Yep, I’d pissed her off, alright. Her brow crumpled and her nostrils flared.

“Sorry, I just see you wasting away, that’s all.” I couldn’t look at her. “You look different than when you first moved here.”

“Well, no offence, but that’s nothing to do with you.” There was an edge to her voice. She was right, of course. It was no business of mine. But I knew what’d happened to me, and I figured I’d try to stop it from happening to her too. Although I wasn’t too sure why I was so insistent on helping when my input was clearly unwelcome.

“Okay, okay. Sorry I spoke. It’s just that if my little sister was refusing to eat, I would have something to say about it.” Why did I talk about her as my little fucking sister?

“Well, thanks for your concern, Greg, but I am not your
little sister
. I am a twenty-nine-year-old woman with her own life and I’m fine. Don’t be so bloody patronising.”

I’d really gone and done it, hadn’t I? What was it with me and this bloody woman? Could I ever learn to think about what I said before the words actually fell out ma mouth like oral incontinence? My mind whirred with what I could say to break the tension.

“So, you made any other friends in the village yet?” I finally asked.

She snorted.
Okay, so clearly she doesn’t count me as a friend.
I felt hurt by that. I’d actually been trying hard with her, despite how it appeared.

She cringed. “Sorry. That was mean. I was just surprised to hear you class yourself as my friend,” she explained. “We haven’t exactly got along very well since we met, wouldn’t you agree?”

I smiled and was sure my sadness was visible on my face.

“Great, now it’s my turn to put my foot in it, eh?”

I didn’t know what to say so I figured I’d stay quiet in case I said the wrong thing again. After a long silence I leaned forward again. “Look, I know I can be an arse, alright? I’ve never had a female friend, I suppose. I’ve two brothers who never dare let me meet their girlfriends for fear I’ll speak to them how I speak to you. I spend a lot of time on my own—by choice, I hasten to add—and I feel sorry for you.”

She sat up straight and glared at me. “You feel
sorry
for me? I don’t want you to go out of your way to be
your version of nice
simply because you
pity
me.” The pitch of her voice rose exponentially with its volume.

Oh, for fuck’s sake!
“No, you misunderstand me.” I couldn’t help getting pissed off at my own choice of words. “That’s not what I meant. See? This is why I don’t do… this.” I waved my hand back and forth between us.

She frowned at me. “What are you on about? You don’t do what?”

I placed my cup down on the bench beside me and rubbed my hands over my face. “Look, that night on the beach, I really felt your pain.” I paused to think my words through carefully for once. “I felt so terrible for what you were going through. I understood… I under
stand
.” I looked up at the azure sky for a moment. “It’s not pity, it’s… it’s… argh… what’s the fuckin’ word…
empathy
!” Finally the right fucking word came to me. I felt relieved that I could say what I actually meant. When I looked over, her lip was quivering and tears were brimming in her eyes.

Oh no. Not again.
I leaned toward her, desperate to hold her in my arms and tell her that everything would be okay. But how could I? She would no doubt take my intended act of kindness completely wrong like she took all of my good intentions completely wrong. So instead I sat back and clenched my fists lest they act of their own accord.

I swallowed the familiar lump in my throat. “I know how hard it is. You’re in a strange place where you hardly know anyone, and you’ve lost the one person in your life that would’ve made that whole situation okay.” Needing something to do with my hands, I pulled my hat off and ran my fingers through my hair. “I get that. I get what you’re going through. I wanted to help—no,
needed
to help—but it turns out I keep making it worse.” She turned her face to me as tears spilled over. “Oh, fuck, and now I’ve fuckin’ made you cry again.”

She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “It’s fine. I’m not your responsibility! I get that you understand, but every time I try to ask you anything, you go all mean and moody on me. I have no clue how to take you. If you want to be friends, you have to change how you act around me. I can’t do with trying to second-guess your mood and wonder if I’ve overstepped the mark.”

I slid over to sit close to her—against my earlier better judgement I might add. Her scent filled my nostrils and my stomach flip-flopped as my heart did its best to make an escape through my ribcage. “Right, this is stupid. Can we please just fuckin’ start over, eh?”
Watch the fucking language, McBradden
. “Fuck, I’m sorry I keep swearing.”

She smirked at me. “It’s fucking fine! Just don’t fucking do it again, okay? It’s fucking rude!” she shouted. I stared at her in shock but then we both cracked up. It felt good to laugh. No, it felt good to laugh with
her
.

 

Chapter Eighteen

As we sat there in the boat we both seemed to relax. I began to tell her about Mairi and how we met. In fact I told her everything, and it felt cathartic to talk about it all. Once I’d finished, I sat in silence for a while again, but this time the silence was comfortable.

After a few moments I broke the silence. “You don’t need to feel lonely here,” I told her. “Folk around here are great. They’re warm, friendly people. From what I’ve heard, they all have nice things to say about you. It’s funny, you know, some can move here and be here for years and never fit in. Not you, though. People love you already.” It was true. The villagers were already fond of her. And why wouldn’t they be? She was a very sweet lassie. I suddenly had a brain wave. A total out-of-left-field idea. “Hey, you know what you should do?”

She eyed me suspiciously. “Hmmm, you seem rather excited, and that worries me.”

“You need a way to meet people. Stella’s looking for an extra bartender for the evening. I could put a word in for you.”

She looked like she was thinking about it, and I was quite hopeful. Instead she shook her head. “But I have no clue how to pull a pint and I can’t add up in my head.”

“Ah, but I can train you to pull pints. And we have an electronic cash register, you know. We don’t live in the dark ages up here.”

“Okay, well, have a word with her, then. I could come in for a trial to see if I like it and if Stella likes me.”

“Aye, well, Stella employs
me
, don’t forget, so being likeable can’t be one of the requirements.” I laughed and Mallory joined in. I was so glad she was considering this. I knew that Stella would think she was great. There was no doubt in my mind.

~~~

We arrived back on shore a couple of hours later, and I felt like we’d really cleared the air. I was a little raw, emotionally, but it was no wonder. I’d talked about Mairi openly for the first time since she died. It was difficult but somehow I felt better. Mallory was a good listener and I appreciated her lending her ear when she was grieving herself.

“What are you up to this afternoon, then? More leaking sinks to repair?” She smiled and I could tell she felt the same about things between us.

“Na’… I’m away to pick up Angus, and I think we might go for a long walk.”

Mallory scrunched her nose. “Angus?”

I realised I hadn’t mentioned Angus before. “Aye, I don’t bring him on the boat too often. He can get seasick and sometimes he bothers the customers.”

“Is Angus your son?” she asked.

A laugh erupted from somewhere near my boots.

“What’s funny?” she asked with a smile that was tinged with confusion.

“My son! Actually, he
is
rather spoiled, so I suppose in a way he is. He’s my dog. Stella looks after him sometimes when I’m out on the boat.”

Her cheeks turned pink and she laughed. “Ah, right. What type of dog is he?”

“He is a Lab-satian.”

“A what?”

I chuckled. “Labrador-Alsatian cross. He’s bloody huge, greedy, and daft as a brush.”

“Oh, lovely. I’d love to meet him sometime. I can’t believe you have a seasick dog.” She giggled as I helped her out of the boat. Once I’d moored up I climbed out too. Together we walked back to the car park.

“Aye, I wasn’t too impressed the first time I took him out, I can tell you.” I opened the car door and climbed inside. “Look, I’ll speak to Stella tonight, okay? See you tomorrow.”

“Bye for now.”

After slamming the door and starting the engine, I pulled away and headed for the pub to collect Angus. I had this warm fuzzy feeling inside of me. Thinking on it for a while, I realised it was happiness. W
hat the fuck?
I’d forgotten what it felt like, so no wonder it didn’t register. Mallory was a great lass. She made me smile without saying or doing much. Just her company was enough to make me happy. It felt a wee bit strange though. I didn’t really know her but we shared something special. A kind of mutual grief. We understood what each other was going though, and whilst I wouldn’t wish the way I felt on my worst enemy, it felt good to know I wasn’t alone.

BOOK: Bridge of Hope
4.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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