Page 119 of Somewhere Only We Know

My face was aching from smiling by the time I got to the bottom of the page. It felt so good to be back in her world, seeing her familiar handwriting and her scratchy little doodles in the margin. I felt a tug at my heartstrings at the thought of her researching her own father by herself. This must have been why she wanted to finish her itinerary completely before coming to me with it. I conjured up her expression that day when she’d come over with it; excited, eager to share but nervous too. At the time, I’d put her jitters down to the prospect of telling me she wanted to defer her job, but now I saw I was wrong.

Jackson was still reading, his eyes roving over every detail on every page, drinking her in.

Finally, he closed the book and exhaled. ‘Smart girl. First to find Utt and then to find me and the hotel. So if she’d made it to Bali, I’d have met her. How cool would that have been?’

‘But your name?’ I said, confused.

‘I was baptised Eugene Jackson, Gene for short. My dad was a big fan of the Apollo missions. Remember Gene Kranz, from the Apollo movie, who wore the waistcoats?’

‘Vaguely.’

‘Everyone has called me by my last name since kindergarten. There was a girl in my class called Jean; you can imagine the teasing I got for having a girl’s name. So I became Jackson and it stuck.’

I stared at him, trying to reconfigure my brain with this new information. ‘You never told me.’

He shrugged. ‘It honestly never occurred to me. Like I guess it never occurred to you to tell me you’re a Magnolia.’

‘Touché,’ I said with a laugh. ‘I like my name now, but growing up it felt so pretentious. My sister Kat’s name is short for Katalina. Our mother thought we’d sound grander if she gave us unusual names.’

‘Magnolia is a beautiful name, it suits you.’

‘And Eugene is very …’ I searched for a suitable word and Jackson’s eyes danced with amusement. ‘Unique?’

‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘Unique is every high school kid’s nightmare.’

‘And the surf hotel?’

‘That’s me,’ he confirmed.

‘Are we going to read on?’ I said, nodding to Brontë’s book.

He pondered that for a moment and shook his head. ‘Do you remember Tegenungan Waterfall?’

A shiver ran down my spine. ‘Our first proper date. How could I forget?’

We’d hired a scooter and gone off exploring by ourselves. We’d come across the waterfall by chance and had ended up climbing down steep steps and diving into clear cold water below the falls. We’d swum and laughed and kissed and had to lie on the rocks to dry off because we hadn’t taken towels. It had been the most romantic day of my life.

‘Fancy a trip down memory lane?’ He cocked an eyebrow.

‘Now?’ I asked.

He shrugged. ‘Why not? I’ve loved getting to know Brontë through your stories and now in her own words, but I think it’s time we talked about ourselves, don’t you? There are things I need to say, things I want to tell you, and ask you too, if I may?’

There was a sombre note to his voice which sent a wave of panic through me. But he was right. We couldn’t put it off any longer. I had to find out what he’d been doing for the last two and a half decades – and more importantly, with whom.

I attempted a smile. ‘Okay. Let’s go.’

We set off again. This time, thankfully, Jackson persuaded Scout to settle on the back seat where it was shadier. I think I’d have melted if I’d had to ride with a hot, panting dog on my lap again. We’d only been driving for a few minutes when I got a call from Harry.

‘You got the book back!’ He sounded thrilled. ‘I saw Lola’s story on Instagram.’

‘I have, thank you. Lola is lovely,’ I added.

‘Yeah,’ Harry agreed. ‘I really like her.’

‘As a friend, or do you think she could be more?’ I probed.

‘More, maybe?’ He groaned. ‘I don’t know, Maggie. Is it too soon? The moment I start seeing someone else, I’m worried I’ll feel as if I’ve broken my tie with Brontë. I’m scared of letting go.’