Page 55 of And Then There Was You

Forty-Seven Merryn

This evening is quieter than our previous openings. Some empty tables remain between those occupied by our regular customers. It was always going to happen, the momentum of our first few weeks of the new hours impossible to maintain long term.

I’m not worried, even though Murph and Jenna keep shooting concerned glances in my direction as they serve food.

Tonight, I’m glad of the calm. There’s a soothing, laid-back atmosphere in the café and courtyard, helped by Thorsten, one of our newest customers, playing soothing classical pieces on Merlin.

It feels like the first time I’ve been able to breathe during evening service since we began.

I haven’t heard any more from Zanna since she called me to say the search was being moved down the list of Cornwall Daily News priorities.

It was inevitable, given the dead end we’d found at Mariner’s.

I won’t beg Luke to tell me where Grant is – that’s if he even knows. So that’s it. Nothing more I can do.

When the summer is over and the half-term weeks are done in October, I think I might go away for a few days, somewhere quieter, away from St Ives. I haven’t taken a holiday for three years and it’s time I changed that. I need space and time to process everything this summer has brought.

For now, I’ll focus on the last of the summer trade and making the evening hours the best they can be. They’ll stop at the end of September, so we should make the most of them.

‘He’s good,’ Murph says, nodding at the piano player.

‘He’s hot ,’ Jenna says, bursting into giggles as soon as she’s said it.

Murph nods. ‘No denying that.’

‘Maybe you should ask for his number, Jenna.’

She receives my suggestion with shock. ‘No way! I wouldn’t know what to say to him.’

‘You say, “You’re hot. Give us your number?”’ Murph replies, as no-nonsense as ever.

‘I can’t do that!’

‘Well, unless you’re using telepathy, how else will he know?’

‘I have an idea,’ I say, going behind the counter and fetching two of our empire ocean biscuits. ‘Take these to Thorsten, say they’re on the house because you love his playing and see what happens.’

‘I can do that!’ she squeaks, hurrying out to the courtyard.

Murph and I watch as she reaches the piano, Thorsten smiling up at her as she delivers the biscuits.

‘Ah, young love,’ Murph observes.

‘Or, the power of two free empire oceans.’

‘That’d swing it for me.’

It’s good to see more people finding – or contemplating – new happiness in Sweet Reverie. Even if my own chance was lost in the fight that damaged Merlin and the silence with Zach that followed.

I wonder what he’s doing tonight. I hope he’s finding something that brings him peace as much as playing the piano did.

We reach the end of the evening, the final stragglers lingering over the dregs of their drinks as we start the end-of-day tasks around them. I’m tired, looking forward to having the place to myself at last.

The bell above the door chimes, making me look over from the table I’m cleaning – and my heart sinks to the newly swept floor.

Luke offers an apologetic grin as he walks over to me.

‘We’re about to close,’ I say, quietly. I could tear him to pieces for his betrayal over Grant, but I don’t want any of our remaining customers to sense any kind of tension between us.

‘I know. I thought we might chat?’

‘I’ve got a ton of jobs to do.’

‘Then I’ll wait? Please, Merryn, I just want to talk.’

I catch Jenna and Murph watching us with interest, eyes like saucers. Of course they don’t know. They just see a new, good-looking man talking to me, not my ex-husband who just betrayed me all over again with what I’ve discovered.

The final group of customers leave, Luke stepping back with that super-friendly smile of his as they walk out. He isn’t going until we’ve talked, is he? Thinking on my feet, I call over to my assistants.

‘You guys can head off, if you like.’

‘Really, boss? We haven’t done the bins or stacked the chairs.’

‘It’s fine, Murph. Go. Thanks for tonight.’

Neither Jenna or Murph need any more coaxing, both rushing to collect their things and hurrying out.

The door closes – and we’re alone, the final rings of the bell echoing around the café.

‘Turn the sign, please.’

He does as he’s told. A ghost of a similar sign returns uninvited, stuck to a restaurant door in the heart of Fore Street, where he’d promised me the risk was worth taking.

I’m still stunned by the speed with which he abandoned that business – and me.

I don’t wish him back, but I regret ever agreeing to that place.

The memory of the fallout from his selfish decision still haunts me – facing angry staff, suppliers and landlords with no answers to give them. I’ll never do that again.

Anger burns my stomach, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it. Whatever he wants to say to me will be more lies piled on the rest. He’ll dig a hole ten feet deep and never realise.

‘You’ll have to make this quick,’ I tell him, busying myself with upending chairs onto the tables. ‘I’ve got a lot to do.’

‘Of course.’ He picks a piece of pale green seaglass from the filled jar I keep on the counter, holding it up to the light. ‘This is cool. You always loved this stuff.’

I stiffen, memories I don’t want springing back.

Our hands reaching for the same piece of smoothed beach treasure five years ago, then our eyes meeting .

. . ‘It’s for the customers,’ I rush, packing my response away.

‘Visitors take a piece and regulars bring their finds from the beach to refill the jar.’

‘Mermaid treasure.’ His eyes meet mine, a world away from the first time. ‘For luck.’ He smiles, the piece of seaglass dancing between his fingers. I don’t want to see it, but I do. ‘I remember you loved the green pieces most. But the one that brought you to me was deep blue . . .’

I’ve heard that soft, suggestive tone of his voice too many times, burned by its lies too often to be fooled now. ‘What do you want?’

‘I just wanted to see how you were.’

‘Why?’

‘You know – after that piece in the Cornwall Daily News . Ending the search and all that.’

I would be completely naive if I thought Luke hadn’t heard about that, however much I hoped the news might pass him by. ‘I’m fine.’

‘I’m just wondering why you decided to look for that guy now.’

Is he serious? The chair in my hands pauses, midway from the floor to the table. ‘I’ve been looking for him for three years.’

‘Well, I . . .’ He falters, the veneer slipping. ‘It just took me by surprise. I mean, we talked about it before and you didn’t look for him then.’

You didn’t talk to me about it, Luke. You lied through your white veneered teeth and kept on lying . . .

I say nothing, resuming my work.

He sits pointedly on the only chair at the table that I haven’t stacked yet. ‘Anyway, I read the news about the search being scaled back today and, I don’t know, I thought you might need a friend.’

‘I don’t need you.’

He laughs. ‘No, you probably don’t. But I thought I’d offer.’

‘What do you want, Luke?’

‘Just to say that I’m sorry, for the record. Finding the piano, as you did, and it being the one you had as a kid – that’s got to inspire a load of hope. To have it dashed . . .’

‘It isn’t dashed,’ I retort.

‘Actually, I got all the details from an employee of mine. Zach Trevelyan? I believe you know him?’

I breathe hard against the stab of pain. ‘He’s a good friend.’

‘Sounded like more than that, the way he talked about you.’

What is that supposed to mean?

‘He’s been a great support,’ I state, willing it to be enough to stop Luke mentioning Zach again.

‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the bloke was in love with you.’

‘Which is none of your business.’

He holds up his hands as if I’ve trained a gun on him. ‘I never said it was.’

I regroup, not wanting to give my ex any more ammunition he can use against me. ‘Thanks for your concern, I’m fine. Now, if you don’t mind?’

He glances at the door, then back at me. ‘Look, I just wanted to say, I think it’s a good job you didn’t find Grant.’

‘What?’

‘I always thought there was a good reason he wasn’t part of your life.’

‘Well, what you think doesn’t matter,’ I shoot back.

He leans back in his chair, looking too comfortable to consider leaving. ‘That’s as may be. But I think I was right. He always struck me as the sort who made a ton of promises he couldn’t keep. He said he’d look after your mother, but then he left at the first sign of trouble.’

‘Mum threw him out. He didn’t have a choice.’

‘Okay, maybe not then. But giving you all that time and energy and then just leaving you behind? Doesn’t sound like you were a priority to him.’

‘Oh and you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?’ I don’t want this conversation. I never invited Luke’s opinion and I don’t need this.

‘ And back to that.’ He raises his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Because it’s always about what I did, isn’t it?’

That’s it. I can’t be civil any longer.

‘What you did? I thought I knew what you did, but it was the tip of the iceberg, wasn’t it?’

‘What?’

‘You lied to me. You knew Grant was working for your uncle all along.’

His mouth flaps open, but I don’t give him the chance to reply.

‘You knew where he was. And yet you belittled me, every time I mentioned him. You made me feel like a silly child for even wanting to look.’

He reaches for me. ‘I wanted to keep you safe . . .’

I swat his hand away. ‘Don’t give me that! You didn’t want anyone else in my life!’

‘Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I knew you needed me more than some waster from your past.’

The truth. Spoken after so long as if it never mattered at all. He wanted control of me. I didn’t have family to interfere, so he hid the only other person who could influence my life. ‘He was my stepdad. I had a right to find him.’

‘He left. And didn’t bother trying to find you. Fact is, you don’t know him. He’s not the saviour you make him out to be.’

‘I should be the one to decide that. Not you.’

‘Merryn, sweetheart, you don’t know what you’d be getting into.’

‘Oh? Like I didn’t know I’d married a lying bastard? How is Holly, by the way? The great love of your life you trashed mine to be with?’

He blanches. ‘I’m not – we’re not . . .’

It should feel like a victory, knowing she’s kicked him to the kerb. But I’m floored by the pointlessness of it. ‘Get out.’

‘I care about you!’ he blurts. ‘I never should have left you . . .’

‘No. You don’t get to do this. Get out!’

‘Please? You don’t need Zach Trevelyan. And Grant doesn’t want to be found. He never did. Every promise he ever made you was a lie. I knew what was best for you then and I know it now . . .’

‘Where is Grant?’

‘I . . . can’t . . .’

‘Where is he?’

‘I don’t know. He left – Graham says he moved away.’

I’ve heard enough. ‘Go away, Luke. I don’t need you. I never did.’

I stand my ground, dizzy with adrenaline, as Luke moves to the door. He doesn’t look back as he leaves.

I take a moment to catch my breath before I return to the end-of-day tasks, each one a meditation now, the familiarity soothing. I lock the door, wipe down the counter and carry the rubbish sacks through to the bins hidden behind a fence panel at the end of the side passage.

Luke isn’t right about Grant. He never promised me anything he couldn’t give.

There were plenty of promises he could have made to the bright-eyed kid sitting beside him at the piano.

He could have promised to make things better with Mum, or to come back to fetch me.

But Grant did none of those things. All he promised was that the piano connected us, and that I’d never be forgotten.

But as I return to my flat and try to settle before bed, doubts creep in.

He said the piano connected us, then abandoned it in a house due for renovation.

He promised he’d never forget me, but when he had the chance to see me again, he didn’t come forward. Does he even remember the child he only knew for a while?

I’m here, with the piano he didn’t care enough to keep.

And I feel more alone than I ever have.

Luke is wrong. So why can’t I shake what he said?