Christmas passed in a blur with no James, and a heavy aching heart that, however positive I tried to be, wouldn’t go away. I carried it around as if I was wearing a hair shirt. He came by while I was out walking, with a beautifully wrapped present and a card full of loving words, which I can only assume he bought before our break-up. Rose said he looked drawn and upset but was still adamant that I sort things out with Blake before we see each other again. I knew he was right to instigate this separation, but I was hurt, and I missed him, even though I thought of Blake too, and knew that the time to confront him was getting nearer and nearer. The New Year was looming, and a visit to St. Malo, where I was pretty sure I would find him, was definitely on the cards.
In total contrast to how I was feeling, my brand new stepbrother, Michael, was on a high. The solicitor had tracked down Priscilla, who was found holed up in a crummy flat in Swansea with Leah and a new guy, somebody called Ray Lewis. The case was going to court the first week in January, with the assurance that visiting rights were a definite and that soon he could expect to be seeing his little girl on a regular basis. He went at his job behind the bar at the Coal Exchange with renewed vigor, the smile on his face as wide as the expanse of sea between Portsmouth and St. Malo, and, my God, that is wide!
To Rose’s great excitement, she got the job at Butcher & Steele, so she wouldn’t be returning to school in January. The decision to apply for the library job or not was pressing, and for the life of me, I couldn’t think what I wanted to do. I didn’t remember ever being in such a turmoil about so many things. So one day, over the Christmas break, I tracked down Mum, who was lounging in the sitting room watching It’s a Wonderful Life, and plonked myself down next to her on the settee for a talk. Luckily Mum had the whole Christmas break off from work too.
We were alone in the house, Rose having gone out with Steve—they were definitely becoming a serious item—and Dad, to Mum’s great pleasure, was paying a visit to the Coal Exchange to have a beer or two with Michael, at Michael’s invitation. From what Michael had said to me and Rose, I thought he was trying to pay Dad back for sorting out his bill at the pub after Priscilla had bled him dry.
The room was cozy with the glow from the wood-burning fire and the twinkle of the Christmas tree lights. The smell of burning wood and oranges hung in the air. “Now then,” Mum said, looking full at me. “I suppose it’s been a strange Christmas for you without James?”
“Yes,” I said sadly, nodding my head. “But I had to tell him about Blake, especially after we saw him on the telly with his band.”
“Yes, of course, you did. Blake’s done well, hasn’t he? A famous musician—wow! And from the pictures I’ve seen, he’s a very attractive young man.” Glancing at the television screen, I saw James Stewart rushing around in a demented frenzy, eyes almost bursting from his head. “I do love this film,” Mum told me.
“I do too. Yes, if I wasn’t so mad with Blake, I’d be really proud. And yeah, you’re right, he’s very handsome.”
Mum smiled as James Stewart gave Donna Reed a big hug and kiss and, as the whole cast smiled at the camera, the closing credits scrolled slowly down the screen. She turned to me, giving me her full attention. “It’s got to be said, though—James is very attractive too.” I nodded in agreement, and then she said, “What do you want from this, Ruby? How do you feel about these two? Have you discussed it with Rose?”
“Well,” I said, thinking hard, concern furrowing my brow. “I’m extremely…extremely fond of James. In fact, I can’t really imagine my life without him.” Then I shook my head. “No, I haven’t said anything to Rose. She’s really caught up with Steve now, and we don’t seem to spend as much time together as we used to.”
I glanced at Mum, who said, “Rose has got her own life now too, I suppose, and she seems fond of Steve.” She smiled at me. “Yes, James is a very nice boy. Your Dad and I are upset at your splitting up, but obviously, we can see the reasons. What about your feelings for Blake?”
“I’m angry with Blake for not getting in touch—for hurting me so bad—yet I’m glad for him that he’s made the big time.” I paused for a minute and then said, “I told James that if I hadn’t seen Blake on the telly, I could have let it go. I was enjoying being with James, but it brought it all back and…. Well, I know what I’m going to have to do, Mum.”
“Yes,” she said. “Confront Blake—go to St Malo? But what about holiday from school? When would you be able to go?”
“Look.” I showed her the screen of my phone where a new website, “Tickets are Good,” was selling The Pilgrim’s concert tickets. “They’re touring the UK in March and April, so I thought, okay, I’ll go see them in concert, maybe in Portsmouth. Hopefully, I’ll be able to go backstage, but it’s not guaranteed I’ll be able to. He might say no, or say he doesn’t know me, or never heard of me! After all, if he really did want to see me, he’d have gotten in touch, wouldn’t he?”
“Yes, I see what you mean.”
“But look.” I showed her some earlier dates that were featured on the website. “They’re doing an ‘Up Close and Personal’ mini-concert at La Bar in St. Malo in February, for Valentine’s, I think, which coincides with the February half-term. And no need for backstage passes or anything like that, because the concert is happening in the bar—voila!”
“I don’t know why you wanted to talk to me, Ruby. You’ve got it all worked out anyway.”
“I need to know if you think I’m doing the right thing, Mum. Going all that way, spending all that money, to confront Blake. And I can’t go, like, now anyway, which puts my relationship with James at risk. And not knowing whether to apply for the library job…I need your advice.”
“Okay, this is what I suggest. First thing, yes, go and confront Blake. At least you’ll know the score. Second, James has refused to see you until you’ve sorted things with Blake, not the other way around. And thirdly, go for the library job. It’s what you always wanted to do. And as for when you go to France, February half-term is the first opportunity you’ll have!”
“Okay, but what if there is a genuine reason that Blake hasn’t been in touch? I forgive him and move to France. What about the library job then?”
“Yes, that could happen, but if you move to France to be with Blake, you’ll have made your decision, and you won’t see James again. And as for the library job, so be it—there are other jobs here or in France.”
“Oh, God! Dilemma, dilemma!” I wailed, falling back into the soft cushions of the settee, my head in my hands.
“All that aside, just apply for the job, Ruby,” urged Mum. “Apply for it. You might not get it, and even if you do, there’s a strong possibility you wouldn’t even start until after the February half-term because of DBS checks and references, so you’ll have confronted Blake by then.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “As long as the ‘Up Close and Personal’ concert isn’t cancelled, I’ll definitely catch up with him then, and he’d better watch out!”
“Good,” said Mum, raising an arm high above her head and shaking a fist. “Fighting talk…Warrior Woman!”
Giggling, we cracked open a bottle and toasted my decisions, or should I say Mum’s, with a flourish.
Taking a sip from her glass, Mum said, “Oh, by the way, Ruby, changing the subject, I know, but….” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Michael met up with Nick, his Dad.”
“Wow, that’s great. Does Dad know?”
“Oh yes,” Mum assured me. “I haven’t mentioned it to Rose yet, though.”
“When did they meet?”
“Last week in Horndean. Michael went to his house, met Julie, his wife—not the daughters yet, I don’t think. They seemed to get on okay.”
I frowned and said, “Why didn’t you tell us about it before?”
“Michael wanted to see how it went first. And he was keen to tell his dad about the impending court case and that soon he might be able to see his granddaughter.”
I nodded and then said carefully, aware that I was treading on thin ice, “What about Nan and Grandad—do they know about Michael yet?”
Mum shook her head. “No. I’m not sure what to do about that, Ruby.”
“I suppose you’ll have to tell them, won’t you?
Mum, her eyes downcast, carefully studied her nails. “Why should I tell them?” she said sadly. “They made me give him away—they don’t deserve him.”
“Mum!”
“No, Ruby, please.” Glancing at me, tears hovering in her eyes, she said, “Just go and fill in that application form. That’s what you should do next.”
I knew I shouldn’t pursue the subject any further, so I backed off. Hugging her, I said, “Thanks, Mum,” and went from the room, rushing upstairs to my laptop.
~*~
I didn’t have to sneak out of the house this time because everybody knew when I was going, why I was going, and what I was going for. Rose told me to go for it, but I was aware that she was worried I might track down Blake and finish with James for good. Although, really, James had finished with me just before Christmas on that cold frosty day when we’d had coffee together in Café Mocha. He’d texted on Christmas Day and a couple of times after that, and I’d told him I was going to St. Malo, but so much time had gone by with nothing resolved that I’d be very surprised if he’d be waiting for me when I got back. Nobody had said anything, but I thought maybe there was a new girl on the scene and that James had found the courage to move on.
It was a dank, dismal day, the sky arching above, grey as iron, speckled with mournful cawing gulls. Gazing from the window of the bus as it trundled along, I glimpse Langstone, the tide a long way out and the sea just a thin line, the stony beach deserted. Even on the bus, the smell of mud was very strong. But then, thank God, it disappeared as we neared Cosham and then finally trundled into the city of Portsmouth. I shuffled in dense chattering crowds, my rucksack on my back, onto the swaying ferry, and then stood at the rail, clinging on with gloved hands, a stiff sea breeze slapping at my face until it shone bright red.
I couldn’t believe it had been more than six months since I’d last been on the ferry. That I’d travelled alone all the way to St. Malo with hope in my heart of a great adventure. So now, a seasoned traveller, I felt confident enough in the future to go further afield on my own. Well, it was very unlikely I would meet another Blake to entertain me on this particular journey, so as it was so cold on the deck, I wandered inside to the same little café to warm up. With a surge of excitement, I thought of the booking I’d made at La Petite Amelia for a whole week and how glad I would be to see Amelia and Georges again.
Drinking creamy hot chocolate and gazing out the window at the glassy green sea rolling and heaving, the day of the library job interview came to mind. I was thrilled to finally get the job. Talking about my starting date with Katie, going over my duties and responsibilities, and just sitting in the library with the students and chatting about books and reading made me realize just how much I’d given up for Rose, and I was over the moon that she’d finally found a job that suited her and that I’d finally found mine. I was looking forward to starting the job properly when I returned to school after the break.
Now all I had to do was sort things with Blake, and everything would be plain sailing—pun intended, seeing as I was on a ferry rolling its way across the sea to France! What a year last year had been—all the dilemmas we’d been through as a family, and the most important thing, of course, Michael seeking us out. Really, he’d turned Mum’s life around, and now that she was able to see her granddaughter, Leah, that was just the icing on the cake.
My thoughts turned to the day of the court case but were quickly gone when suddenly there was pandemonium as people began to stand up, gulp down their drinks and swallow last morsels of food while collecting belongings and making their way out onto the cold deck. I realized with a jolt that we were arriving in St. Malo. The journey had flown by, so I quickly put my rucksack on my back and began to follow the slow-moving crowds.
The grey sea tipped with white rose and fell, sharp pointy little waves peaking and troughing, peaking and troughing. A great flock of pesky seagulls squawked and dived as I made my way down the creaking gangplank, shuffling along as if I was shackled with a chain gang until once again I was standing on French soil. I smiled to myself, looking forward to another adventure and The Pilgrim’s concert at La Bar. All I could say really was, “Look out, Blake Edwards, here I come!”