Page 93 of One Golden Summer

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Besides the fact that I don’t want to go to prison because I may bash her brains in if I’m in the same room with her?”

Kirsty started to speak, but stopped, letting Saffron continue.

“I don’t want to make movies anymore.”

“Not at all?”

“My solicitor is crafting a suit to get me out of Pearl’s clutches. I’ve put an offer to buy the beach house. Tomorrow I have an appointment to see a dog I want to adopt.”

“Wait.” Kirsty put her arms out as if trying to stop herself from spinning. “You’re not going back to London?”

Saffron shook her head.

“Or LA?”

Another shake of the head. “I’m putting both places on the market. I realised I hate both places. Sandy Cove makes me happy. Being near Ginger. And the sea.” Saffron pointed the rainbow stick at Kirsty. “But there’s no ifs, ands, or buts, it’s you who makes me the happiest.”

“But… we were tested and we both failed.”

Saffron bobbed her head, taking that onboard. “It’s true. The question is: will we learn from it or will we fail every other test?”

“I don’t know, Saff. The fact that we’re having this conversation the night of your sister’s divorce party speaks volumes, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“Then why are you smiling like that?”

“Because you’re still talking to me and we’re getting our feelings out.” Saffron used her hands to demonstrate unburdening herself. “That also has to mean something. I know a simple apology won’t wipe away my mistake. But—I want to show you something.” Saffron dashed for her bag and pulled out a sketch. “I want to paint this for you.”

“It’s my shop.” Kirsty squinted one eye at Saffron.

“Yes.”

“It’s incredible.”

“And, here’s one of the beach house.”

Kirsty took the paper from Saffron. “Oh, wow. Look at the detail.” She brought the paper closer. “Is that me?”

“In the garden, yes. I never would have finished either of these sketches before coming to Sandy Cove. I’d start one, but would get busy, losing steam. Sometimes, I’d misplace the scrap of paper. I want to slow down. I want to learn to appreciate the small things in life. I want to always stroll on the promenade. Most of all, I don’t want to be miserable anymore.”

“Were you?”

“Yes. You helped me see just how trapped I’d let myself become.”

“I fear I’ve made things even worse, though.” Kirsty tucked her elbows into her sides.

“Yes, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. I’ve decided all of it was necessary. Okay, maybe not necessary… sorry, Ginger has been encouraging me to communicate more to avoid trouble, but…”

“Go on…” Kirsty prodded.

“Are you busy next week?”

“Like every day next week?” A cloud of confusion overtook her face.