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Earning your keep on board ship appeared to be the highest compliment that Salty could give anyone. Rick was duly grateful.
“That’s very kind, Mr. Harrington. I appreciate the sentiment.”
“Dunno why you don’t call me Salty. Everyone else around here does.”
“Thank you... Salty.” Rick held out his hand, and Salty clasped it with a ferocious grip.
“She’s a good girl. But you’ll get over her...”
Everyone else had tactfully skirted around the reason for their kindness, as if he might disintegrate at the mention of Fleur’s name. It had taken Salty to grasp the nettle, and it was something of a relief that finally someone had. Rick grinned at him.
“Thanks, Salty.” Rick decided not to ask exactly how Salty thought he was going to get over Fleur, because the answer would probably involve a long spell at sea and an encounter with a few monsters. But he didn’t think even that would work.
New York had lost none of its excitement, or its bustle. The places that Fleur loved were still there, and over the next few days she visited them doggedly, in between time spent at the theater, meeting the staff and discussing the projects that she would be involved with if she took up a position there.
She sat on a marble-topped bench in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, staring blankly at a painting that must have stirred a thousand hearts over the years. Somehow it left her cold.
The job was fantastic, everything she wanted. The theater and the people who worked there were great, and the director had told her that he just had to tie up a few formalities before he offered her the position. New York was... New York. They could have named it three times over, as far as Fleur was concerned.
But when she was alone at night, all she could think of was the roll of the sea. The winds that might take her back to Rick. The only time that she felt really alive was when she was remembering their time together, and right now feeling alive meant feeling pain.
She stared into the faces in the painting. Imagined them telling her to get a grip. Telling her that she had just one life, and that she had to get on and live it. That she and Rick had worked too hard on her rehab for her to throw everything away.
“You’re right...” Fleur realized she’d said the words out loud, because a couple of people turned to look at her. Pulling the strap of her purse over her shoulder, she stood up and started to walk.
Getting on with her life started here and now.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
RICK STOOD IN the viewing gallery, looking down at the harbor. It had become his and Ellie’s favorite place lately. She loved playing here and Rick liked to stand and watch the evening activity at the harbor. Somehow it made him feel closer to Fleur.
He watched as the ferry docked, and two cars drove off, followed by a group of foot passengers. Ivan Pobjoy’s taxi was ready and waiting, and there was the usual set of negotiations as everyone discussed in what direction they wanted to go. Rick had heard that in the summer Ivan took one passenger at a time, but in the winter, when only islanders used his service, he just filled his taxi with as many people as he could squeeze into the back seat and made a round trip.
Three people got into the taxi, leaving one figure standing on the quayside. Rick stared at it, unable to quite believe his eyes.
“Ellie...may I borrow your telescope a minute?”
Ellie nodded, and Rick disengaged the telescope from its stand, swinging it round to point at the harbor. Fleur had a case with her, and she was huddled in the meagre shelter of the taxi stand, trying to stay out of the wind. Clearly she’d been the one to volunteer to stay behind and wait for Ivan to return. Rick almost dropped the telescope.
“Ellie... Ellie, sweetheart, we have to go out.”
Ellie looked up from her building bricks. “But it’s dark.”
“Yes, I know, but this is really important. I need to go down to the harbor, and I can’t leave you here alone.”
“Why not?” Ellie’s lower lip began to quiver. Not a good sign. Ellie wasn’t much given to tantrums, but when she decided to dig her heels in she could be very stubborn.
“Because I’m your dad. And I have to look after you.”
“But you said you’d help me build a castle...” Ellie had already sorted her bricks into piles according to shape, color and size. She swept her small hand petulantly, scattering the bricks, and started to cry.
He couldn’t just snatch her up and bundle her into the car, and Rick didn’t have the time to take her on his lap and explain things the way he usually did. He had to get to the harbor. Now.
“Ellie, sweetheart...” He picked her up hugging her tight, and Ellie struggled in his arms. “It’s a special wish....all my special wishes. I promise we’ll build a castle later.”
Ellie was suddenly still, her mood changing with the suddenness that only children seemed to pull off successfully. “All your special wishes?”
There were nearly thirty special wish counters in his jar in the kitchen. But wishes were worthless without Fleur to make them with.
