‘And you’re here because?’
‘I’ve been doing for Bill,’ she supplies as if it should have been perfectly obvious to me. ‘Cleaning up after the builders and such. He’s asked me to look after you while you’re here.’
‘Did he now?’ Wait until I get on the phone to him.
‘Probably forgot to mention it. He’s such a busy man. I’ve never known anyone dash about so much. He runs around like a headless pony. Here, there, everywhere! He’s done this place up lovely though.’ She gives an admiring glance around the room. ‘Asked my advice on most of it.’
I think if that had been the case there would be more considerably leopard skin print in evidence.
‘Well, Marilyn,’ I say. ‘It’s very nice to meet you, but I’ve actually come here to be by myself.’ I try to address this as politely as possible. ‘I don’t know what arrangement you have with Bill, but I’m sure that I can manage.’
‘You can be by yourself with me,’ Marilyn tells me as the kettle boils. ‘You won’t even know I’m here. I’m as quiet as a squirrel. All I’m going to do is pop in every day and have a little run around with the hoover and the like.’
The thought fills me with dread. ‘I’m really not intending to make very much mess and I’m perfectly capable of doing my own cleaning.’
‘I’m sure you are, honey, but Bill’s your big brother. He just wants to look after you. My kids are all the same. They’re protective of each other. That’s what families do.’
Yes, I think, but sometimes the people who should love you the most are the ones who cause you the most hurt. I sigh to myself.
‘How did you want your tea?’
‘I don’t actually want any tea.’
‘Of course you do. A cup of tea in time is as good as nine. White, no sugar?’
‘Yes.’ Some things in life you just can’t fight.
Marilyn McConaughey-channelling-Monroe hands me a mug of tea that I’m not sure that I want and sits down at the kitchen table with her own. She has a kind face and a tan that looks as if it has come from a bottle.
‘Come on, sit, sit.’ She pats a chair. ‘You must be tired after that long journey. Sit.’
There seems to be very little point in arguing about this too. Even though the trip here could hardly be classed as arduous, I realise that I am actually tired – emotionally as much as physically – and a cup of tea would just hit the spot. Running away, it seems, takes it out of you. I sit down opposite my new and somewhat unwanted companion. The tea, I have to confess, is a very good idea.
‘The tea’s wonderful.’ I try a smile. ‘Thank you.’
‘I’m practically psychic when it comes to knowing what people want,’ she says with a sage nod.
I’m sure.
It looks as if I won’t get very far with convincing Marilyn that I don’t need her here, but wait until I speak to Bill. I’ll get him to call her off. He probably is trying to be kind, but I don’t want someone ‘popping in’ every day. Especially, not someone as chatty as Marilyn. I came here to be quiet, to see if I can find peace again.
‘I’ll tell you all about our lovely island so that you have a grand time while you’re here. I know all the best places to visit.’
‘I’m planning just to rest and read,’ I tell her. ‘Enjoy the tranquillity.’
Marilyn looks at me as if that’s a completely alien concept. ‘Nonsense. We have all of the things here. You’ll love it. We’ve a garlic farm.’
‘Right.’
‘They have garlic ice-cream.’
Where was I without that in my life?
‘That will put hairs on your toes.’
‘Chest, I think you mean.’
‘Why would you want hairs on your chest?’ she asks, askance.
I’m not entirely sure that hair on my chest or toes would make me feel any better. In fact, I’m pretty sure that an excess of bodily hair in unwanted places would only add to my woes.
Then her face softens. ‘Have you been through a rough time? I thought as much. Sure as eggs are peas, there’s some man behind it. I know these things. Why else would you come here on your own? You’re a beautiful young thing, but you look all frail and forlorn. There’s no light in those lovely emerald eyes.’
The tears that are never very far from my eyes these days spring up afresh. I swallow down the emotion that’s lodged in my throat. ‘I just need some time alone,’ I reiterate. ‘Completely alone.’
Marilyn reaches out and pats my hand. She crinkles her eyes and says kindly, ‘Don’t you worry, lovely. You can be alone with me.’
Chapter Four
Marilyn tells me about things to do on the island while I hurriedly finish my tea. She rattles them all off in a manner that the tourist board would be proud of. Apparently, as well as the must-see garlic farm, there’s Osborne House – one-time seaside home of Queen Victoria – the Needles lighthouse and many other essential touristy experiences that Marilyn insists I must do. They all pass through my brain but don’t stop. I’m not intending to spend my time sightseeing – although I’m not sure what exactly I’m planning to do with my time here. While she has a brief pause for breath, I seize my chance to speak.
‘I must unpack,’ I say, standing from the table. ‘And I need to pay you for the shopping.’
She waves a hand. ‘Oh, don’t you worry about that. I’m to send the bill to Bill.’ She laughs. ‘See what I did there?’
I do. ‘Well, thank you again for the tea.’
‘I could make you some lunch?’
‘I’m not hungry just yet, thank you. I think I might go out for a walk later while it’s still light.’
‘There’s a nice café on the beach at the end of the next bay, Sandy Cove. Tiny place. Outside and all that. Lovely food. Everyone goes there. It won’t take long to walk there. It’ll be a bit chilly today, but it will put some carnations in your cheeks.’
‘I’ll have a wander when I’ve sorted my stuff out.’ In truth that won’t take long as I’ve brought very little with me.
‘Right.’ Marilyn stands. ‘I must get on too.’
‘It really isn’t necessary. The place is immaculate. We’ve used two mugs. I can manage to wash those up.’
Marilyn ushers me towards the stairs. ‘I’ll do that, young lady. You unpack and rest for a while. I’ll be as quiet as a sausage. You won’t even know I’m here and I’ll close the door behind me when I’m gone.’
Resistance is clearly futile, so I say, ‘Thank you.’
‘Nothing is too much trouble.’ Marilyn frowns at me with concern. ‘You only have to ask.’
I take my leave while Marilyn is heading to the sink and retreat to my bedroom below deck – if that’s the right term.
As I lift my bags onto the bed, for the second time, I catch sight of myself in a mirror. This time it’s the one on the dressing table. Marilyn’s right, I do look frail and forlorn. My face is pale wan, and I realise that my grey shirt does nothing to enhance it. I’ve never dressed quite like Marilyn, but even I realise that I could do with a bit of colour in my life. No wonder Marilyn looked at me with such pity. I turn the mirror round to face the wall.