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Standard Sunday lunch at Mariners, thought Nikki as the noise level rose and Edith yelped in excitement. As ever her gaze drifted over to the Cornishware mug on the dresser which had ‘Dad’ in black letters glazed onto the blue-and-white stripes. If he was here now, he’d be sipping slowly at a glass of the home brew he kept in the garage. And he’d have doted on Juno and the M and Ms – and Bill – the grandchildren he had never met. He would have made Suzanne feel part of the family, just as Helen did. Graham sat in his father’s wheel-backed chair at the head of the table, and he was plenty big enough to fill William’s shoes, though Nikki knew he worried he wasn’t. For all his restless energy, Graham was insecure deep down. Losing your dad at a vulnerable age would do that to you.
‘How’s the new gaffe?’ Nikki jumped as Jess came up to her.
‘Right now? An absolute mess.’
‘I’ve got you a housewarming present.’ Jess reached into her bag and pulled out a golden pineapple. ‘It’s an ice-bucket. Sorry, I didn’t have time to wrap it.’
‘Thank you!’ Nikki looked at it with delight. It was kitsch and fun and absolutely perfect.
‘Sorry I haven’t been over yet. Work’s been manic.’
‘I’d wait, if I were you. Till I’ve got things straight.’
‘I’ll come and help when I can. I’m on nights all next week though.’
Nikki loved her sister when she was being supportive. When being the operative word, for she wasn’t always. You never knew what angle Jess was going to take. And you had to be careful when telling her things. She could take umbrage, or judge, or she could be as nice a pie. Nikki was used to it, but it was wearing, and you had to be strategic. She wondered what she would say about their mum’s latest revelation. She would definitely have views.
‘Honestly, don’t worry. You’ve got enough on your plate with work.’
‘It’s only fair. You helped me with mine.’
‘True.’ Nikki had organised the decoration of Jess’s bungalow on the other side of town, ten years ago now. It was weird how her sister seemed to run the entire A & E unit at Tawcombe hospital almost single-handedly just by sheer force of her personality, but she couldn’t so much as prise open a pot of paint. Though of course she could – it was just that Jess never did anything she didn’t want to do and was very good at getting other people to do things for her.
The M and Ms were putting the finishing touches to the table, working in sync as the perfect team, while Juno was helping Helen decant all the vegetables into serving dishes.
‘Graham, darling, would you carve?’ Helen peeled the foil off the pork which was resting in its dish, encased in shiny salty crackling the colour of a ginger nut.
‘That’s sexist, Mum,’ Jess said, frowning.
‘OK, you do it, then.’ Helen waved the carving knife at her. She never let Jess wind her up.
‘No, I’m useless.’
‘Let Graham do it, Jess. He’s good at it.’ Nikki appreciated Jess’s sentiment but Graham was definitely the best at getting even slices.
Eventually the food was laid out and at last there they all were, seated at the table. Nikki gazed around at them – her mum and her siblings and her nieces. Juno had got Helen’s iPad and was about to call Bill on FaceTime. She’d prop it up in the middle of the table and they’d each have a chat, and he’d insist he wished he was there with them. Even though he was living in paradise, a little bit of him probably did long for home.
Everyone was safe at Mariners, she thought. Safe as houses. Even her.
At least she hoped so. She felt a fleeting prickle of unease. She didn’t want to lose the thing that was most important to her. Her family.
After lunch, everyone was in a contented slump, finishing off their wine and picking idly at a round of Camembert. The M and Ms were variously finishing off their homework (Mia), playing on Suzanne’s phone (Molly) or lying on the floor cuddling Edith (Meg).
‘We should get the money from the house sale in now you’ve completed,’ said Graham.
Nikki had forgotten that’s where some of the proceeds from the sale of Number Four were going. Speedwell had an independent lifeboat station. Every penny needed to keep them afloat came from donations. Graham was the treasurer, a role he took very seriously.
‘It’s a good dollop in the pot,’ said Helen, who was in charge of fundraising and ran the shop.
‘Yes. It’s confidential, by the way,’ Graham reminded them. ‘The family don’t want people knowing about their donation.’
Jess gave a bark of laughter. ‘Oh, everyone’ll find out. You know what a small town this is.’
Small town. Nikki could see the words in black on the back of the postcard. She picked up her glass and swallowed the rest of her wine, trying to blot out the image. She’d had such a wonderful afternoon; she didn’t want her mood lowered as she was about to head home. Why couldn’t she just forget about it?
No one else was really listening to the conversation now, distracted by Juno pulling out her guitar and playing them her latest composition. Her voice was honey spiked with chilli, her lyrics haunting and full of vivid images of seaside life: waves and rocks and moonlight and uncertainty.
She was a siren, luring her audience, lulling them into a false sense of security with her sweetness then hitting them with a twist in the tale, for her songs were stories. Everyone fell silent as she sang, completely under her spell. The M and Ms were wide-eyed, in awe of their cousin and her mystical beauty. They tried to copy her style, but they weren’t yet allowed piercings or tattoos or hair dye, so they settled on fishnet tights and big boots, which was as much as Suzanne would allow. Occasionally she would let them go and see Juno play, though never on a school night and never past ten o’clock.
