The following week Nellie moves into Channel View, in a room next door to Lena’s. It’s interesting to see what she’s brought with her from the cottage: on a shelf I spot the Christina Rossetti poetry book, a brass door handle, and something I’d not seen before – a yellow plastic ring. There’s also an old leather armchair that, Nellie says, was the one her mother used to sit in to read at Hadfield Hall, and was left by Captain Farley in his will. He left her an awful lot more too – everything, in fact – though it’s Jessie who tells me this. Apparently, Nellie gave a big chunk of the money to a sanctuary for Clydesdale horses, and the rest went to an environmental charity for flood victims.
Despite having her own lovely room, Nellie sleeps in 290with Lena every night. It’s like it used to be all those years ago at Combe Grange. And every morning, catchphrase at the ready, the first thing they hear is each other.
*
Meanwhile, in my world, our baby sister arrives. She’s born on a cold day in January, officially ten days overdue. Her name is Rowan, like the tree. We’re thrilled to bits to meet her at last, all three and a half red, angry kilos of her, and try not to be offended that she doesn’t seem to feel the same about us. She’s a very ‘screamy’ baby. Yet the thing she loves more than anything is dancing with Joel. The second the music comes on and my brother picks her up, Rowan grins and dribbles and bobs along to the beat.
Just before Easter, my brilliant brother is accepted, on his scholarship, to the dance school in London. This time he’s done it with Mum and Dad’s approval, references from teachers, forms filled in. It means he’ll have to stay in London during the week. I’ll miss him, of course, but he’s promised to come back at weekends. And I’m okay with that because he’s happy. Plus, I’ve got a sister now, so it’s not like I’ve been deserted. 291
‘Look at this, Pol.’ One afternoon when he’s packing his stuff, Joel shows me a ‘Congratulations’ card that’s signed: ‘You deserve this, Megan’.
‘That’s good, isn’t it? It sounds like an apology, really.’
‘Yeah,’ Joel agrees. ‘It does.’
*
When summer comes round again, this year Jessie visits us. It’s another hot one: the flat is stifling, noisy, cramped, and I overhear a conversation about Nellie’s empty cottage.
‘She wants someone living there, keeping an eye on it,’ Jessie says to Mum. ‘It’s got a decent garden for growing your own veggies.’
‘We’ll think about it,’ Mum replies.
But she’s smiling more and is definitely worrying less, and Dad’s been browsing the tomato pages in his seed catalogue again. I like the idea of moving to the countryside. Though it would mean leaving Sasha, and Nellie and Lena, I’d be going somewhere I feel I’ve known for years.
The next morning, I catch Jessie out on our balcony, Rowan grizzling on her hip.
‘Hey, I’m your auntie so listen to me, okay?’ she coos. 292
Amazingly, Rowan goes quiet and takes a fistful of Jessie’s super-long hair.
‘Follow your dreams, by all means, baby girl, but don’t forget you’re not the only human on this planet wanting bigger and better, yeah?’
Rowan gurgles.
Jessie kisses the top of her head. ‘Tread lightly, that’s all.’
It’s sound advice. She’s my favourite auntie for a very good reason.
*
Later that day when the temperature drops a little, we go to the beach for a family picnic. I’ve decided to wear my costume under my clothes. Everyone’s covered in sun cream and wearing floppy hats. Nellie and Lena are sitting in the shade under a parasol. Joel, me and Sasha are taking it in turns to help Rowan build sandcastles. The grown-ups are discussing how we’d originally thought Lena’s surname was Gee.
‘Names are funny things,’ Lena agrees.
I catch myself thinking about the reservoir.
‘Why did the water board call it Truthwater Lake?’ I ask. 293
‘It wasn’t the water board’s idea,’ replies Nellie.
‘Really?’
‘Wasn’t it?’ Like me, Lena is confused.
‘No,’ Nellie says, firmly. ‘The villagers decided it – the Blackwells, Captain Farley, Mrs Lee, Miss Setherton and everyone. The water board wanted to call it Clatworthy Lake, but we protested. It was amazing, really: after all we’d been through, all the lies and the cheating us out of our homes and proper compensation, we put up a real fight, and the water board backed down.’
‘So the truth bit of the name—?’ I ask.
Nellie glances at Lena. ‘Is a reminder not to hide things, I suppose. To live an honest life.’
I’m suddenly reminded of that old homework task from last summer.
‘What would you say you’re most proud of in your life?’ I ask them both.
‘Oh, Lena,’ says Nellie without hesitating. ‘Definitely. Without a doubt.’
‘Likewise, Nell,’ Lena replies.
Dad looks sheepish. ‘Cripes, I said tomatoes when you asked me!’
I laugh.
‘What about regrets?’ I ask Lena first. 294
She screws up her nose. ‘Probably how I rushed off at the station that day when I left Nellie to go home.’
I turn to Nellie.
‘No regrets, although I wish I could’ve kept Perry.’ She notices my reaction. ‘What? Are you surprised? Did you think I’d say losing Syndercombe or my mother?’
I consider it.
‘No,’ I decide. ‘It makes sense.’
After all the things they’ve done with their lives – all the travel, the fame, the achievements – the one sure thing for both is each other – and a Clydesdale horse. It makes me think of what Jessie said to Rowan on the balcony earlier, that we all have dreams and it’s okay to follow them, but to tread lightly in the world.
I’ve worried far too much about not being good at anything, about being laughed at, and not having a talent like Joel or Nellie. Yet Dad’s tomatoes don’t seem such a silly answer any more, because for people who’ve lived a lot, it’s the everyday things that mean the most. We don’t have to leave our mark on the world: in fact, wouldn’t it be kinder to the planet not to?
And, if that doesn’t feel quite satisfying enough for an ending, let’s not forget what happened to me last summer. There aren’t many people who can say they’ve time-travelled to the past. Or maybe they’ve just kept it 295to themselves: I didn’t tell anyone – well, only you.
Nellie holds out her hand. ‘Get me up, Polly.’
I help her to her feet, and she starts unbuttoning her dress.
Lena laughs. ‘You really did put your costume on underneath, didn’t you?’
‘Old habits die hard,’ Nellie answers.
Following her lead, I take my dress off too. The urge to swim, like that first night at Jessie’s, is sudden and overwhelming. Nellie and I stand there, in our costumes, clutching each other’s hands.
‘Ready?’ she asks me.
‘Ready,’ I reply.
We walk a trail of footprints into the sea. And when the tide comes in and washes them away, it’s as if we’ve never been here, on the beach, but were born in the water, already swimming.