‘It’s true, she has, but not in a way that I think you need to go worrying yourself about. We all took it hard, and we’ve all got our own ways of dealing with it. Joely’s has been to shut down for a while.’
‘I know, but I’m afraid it’s the reason behind Callum leaving. Or at least part of the reason.’
‘Have you asked him about it?’
‘No, but I intend to as soon as I can. Holly’s staying with me now, by the way, I guess until Joely comes back.’
‘Which will be when?’
‘I don’t know. She hasn’t been very specific.’ She paused, not sure whether to ask the next question, but in the end decided to. ‘Jamie, do you think she might have found something out about Dad after he died?’
‘Like what? There’s nothing to find out, is there?’
‘Not that I know of, but the way she’s been … Have you ever told her about the talk you and I had with Dad?’
‘No, you thought she didn’t need to know so I’ve never mentioned it.’
Marianne nodded. ‘OK, so it won’t be that and anyway I can’t think why it would make her pull away from us, and especially not from Callum. Even Holly’s felt it …’ She stopped, not entirely sure what else she wanted to say, how to put into words her mother’s instinct that she was missing something that she needed to get hold of.
‘Mum, I have to go, but I’ll be home in an hour if you want to call back.’
‘Thanks, but you’ve got enough going on and I don’t want to bother you again.’
‘It’s not a bother. You’re my mother, she’s my sister. I’m here for you, OK?’
With a smile Marianne said, ‘Love you, Jamie Jenson,’ and after ending the call she grabbed her keys and coat, deciding to try Joely again as soon as she returned home.
‘Mrs D sends her apologies,’ Brenda said as Joely entered the kitchen, ‘but she won’t be joining you for breakfast and she doesn’t want to work today.’
‘Is she unwell?’ Joely asked, as concerned as she was baffled by this prolonged absence.
Brenda simply shrugged and carried on stirring milk into the porridge she had simmering on the Aga.
Joely wasn’t sure what to say. Something was odd about this, something she couldn’t fathom, unless her client was ill. Even if she wasn’t, if she didn’t want to work, she, Joely, was hardly in a position to insist. Sitting down at the table, she said, ‘Please tell Mrs D that if she doesn’t like the pages I wrote then I’m happy to discuss them and try again.’ She was irked by her admission of insecurity, and it wasn’t helped by the time it took for Brenda to dry her hands on a tea towel before answering.
‘Bill’s taken the Jeep for an MOT today,’ she said, ‘so if you’d like a lift into town I’ll be leaving shortly.’
Joely drank her coffee, puzzled by Brenda’s failure to acknowledge her message to Freda, and wondering if she’d just been told in an oblique way that Freda wanted her out of the house.
In the end, deciding it would serve no purpose to hang around here with nothing to do but get spooked by random singing and her own imagination she accepted the offer of a lift into Lynton. Once there she rode the funicular down to Lynmouth and the National Park Centre to use up some time learning more about the area.
It turned into a fascinating few hours that took her mind off Freda, and even off Callum who still hadn’t texted since his claim that he was missing her. It wasn’t that she wanted to hear from him – she did, but only if he was going to say something she wanted to hear. Such as, I’ve made a terrible mistake; or how can we work things out? Or, I realize now I can’t be without you.
By the time she left the Centre she’d heard all about the great flood of 1952 when a terrible storm had brought trees and boulders crashing downriver from the moor devastating Lynmouth and killing thirty-four people while making hundreds homeless. She could, she hoped, now identify many of the birds she’d watched flying about the cliffs, and name the wild flowers she’d spotted tilting their colourful faces to the winter sun. She knew that two rivers became one before they reached the shore; that there was a photography competition in need of more