Chapter 5
Peter and Sarah meet in their first week at University College London. Peter is studying French, Sarah Law, and they are in the same corridor in their first year hall of residence. They spend three years together, and then move together into a small rented flat. Peter starts working as a journalist, on the international desk of a news organisation, struggling, with some help from Charlie to support them both while Sarah works for her law finals. Peter proposes the day Sarah gets her final results, and they marry the next year.
Now Sarah works long hours as a corporate lawyer in a London firm. The work is demanding but the pay is good and she knows her bosses like her. They have decided to put off having children until her career is secure. When she gets home she is tired, and Peter is working irregular hours, so she doesn’t see him as much as she would like. Peter’s job sends him to France for a few days every month. Without either of them noticing they are drifting apart. They don’t argue, they enjoy each other’s company, but the spark is going.
Charlie has retired and divides his time between Maple Cottage and the house in London. It is five years after Peter and Sarah married and this year they have decided not to go abroad but to spend a week at Maple Cottage, with an unspoken plan to spend some quiet time together trying to recreate something that they lost while they were working out where their careers were going.
“You must ignore me,” says Charlie. “Just do what you want, I don’t need entertaining. I can cook for you if you like, but don’t feel that you have to eat with me.”
“Thanks Dad. We’ll play it by ear. We are going to Rye later in the week, I have booked the Mermaid, but otherwise no fixed plans.”
“And you must say hello to Emma, she is working back in the shop.”
“Who’s Emma?” says Sarah.
“Oh, just an old flame of Peter’s,” says Charlie, smiling at Peter’s embarrassment. “They used to play on the beach together as kids.”
“You never mentioned an Emma.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” says Peter. “She’s just an old friend. I used to know her brother well, but we’ve lost touch.”
“Well, she’ll be pleased to see you,” says Charlie. “And there’s some good stuff in the shop. They have bread delivered fresh every day now.”
For two days all is well. It is windy, but not wet, and they walk miles each day, stopping at pubs for lunch and cafes for tea. Not talking much, just comfortable with each other.
On the next day Peter is up early and heads down to the shop to buy bread for breakfast. It is warm already, and the air still and clear. Emma is in the shop. “I wondered when you would be coming in,” she says. “Charlie told me you were coming down. And that you’re married. Who is she? Can I meet her?” Emma smiles. “Any kids yet?”
“Hi Emma. News travels. How are you? Still living on the Green?”
“Yup. Dad died a couple of years ago and it is just me and mum. Liam’s moved to Dover, he works at the ferry terminal. I’ve done a few things, but ended up here. It’ll do for now.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your dad, I think Charlie mentioned it. Is your mum OK?”
”She’s fine, just getting older. She doesn’t go out much now.”
There’s an awkward pause. “I should get back, but we must meet up for a proper chat. Perhaps one evening?”
“Sure. And I’d like to meet Mrs. Peter.”
Peter looks at her. “OK. Let me have your number, I’ll give you a call.”
He heads back to Maple Cottage, but without thinking about it he walks past to the end of the green and climbs over the sea wall. It is a glorious morning, too good to miss, and he walks along the wall for a while. Emma hasn’t changed, and he realises that she is still a part of him. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he saw her, but he didn’t expect to have any feelings for her. He realises that he has walked further down the beach than he planned, and he turns and goes back across the green to the cottage. He sees Charlie drive off as he approaches, it is almost 9.00 and he remembers Charlie saying something about a dentist appointment this morning. He walks into the cottage and heads for the kitchen. Sarah is on the phone in the living room and he sticks his head round the door.
“Breakfast is here, I’ll make tea.”
“Shush,” she points at the phone in her hand and turns away form him. It sounds as if she is talking to the office, something to do with equity restructuring. Peter closes the door, puts the kettle on and sorts out the breakfast things.
Sarah is still talking in the next room while he works his way through two rolls with honey and a pot of tea. Half an hour later Sarah comes into the room.
“All well?”
“I’m really sorry, something cropped up.”
“That’s OK. I’ve eaten, but I’ll make you some more tea. Anything important?”
“Yes,” she pauses, ”I’ll need to go into work.”
“Now? You’re on holiday. Tell them you can’t. Couldn’t you ignore your phone for one day?”
“They still expect me to answer it.” Sarah was cross, and it was easier to be cross with Peter than with her boss. “A deal that had gone quiet before we came away has suddenly come back on. They want to sign next week.”
“Let someone else do it. You’re on holiday.” Peter repeated.
“I can’t. I’m the only person who knows all the details. I have to go in.”
“Rubbish. Just explain it to someone else. Let them read the file. You’re not indispensable, let someone else do the grunt for a change.” Peter pauses, and then looks at Sarah more closely. “That isn’t it, is it? You want to go back in. You don’t really want to be here while a deal is going through.”
“Of course I do. I just can’t leave someone else to pick up the pieces. It’s my deal.”
“You’re glad the deal’s back on. You thought this might happen, this is why you didn’t want to go abroad.”
There is a small, quiet but hostile space between them, as if the air and the sound had been sucked out of the room. Uncomfortable, suffocating, neither speaking. They have never had a row before, don’t know how it works. Peter doesn’t want to find out.
“When do you need to go?”
Was that it? Sarah wants him to say more. She expects more of a fight, feels that they need to clear the air. Peter had talked for years about spending some time with her here, and somehow she had always found excuses not to come. They had managed Sunday lunch with Charlie, and a couple of weekends, if she goes now it will ruin Peter’s plan. She is torn between not wanting to upset Charlie, not wanting to damage her marriage, and the buzz of excitement that she felt when she answered the phone.
“I need to go back this morning; I’ll get the next train. I’ll stop at the flat and change and shower and go straight into the office.”
“Don’t be silly, we‘ll drive back up.”
“No, you should stay here, enjoy your holiday. I’ll be working long hours anyway. Maybe even over the weekend. Otherwise I’ll come back down on Friday evening if I can.”
Peter says nothing, and then he sighs. “When is the next train?”
“There’s one in about an hour. I’ll pack now, it won’t take long,” and then she pauses, and comes over to give Peter a hug. “Thank you. Say sorry to Charlie for me.”
They don’t say much in the car on the way to the station, and it is raining when they get there so Sarah climbs quickly out, grabs her bag and runs across the forecourt into the station building without looking back. Peter drives slowly home and sits down. He isn’t sure what to think, isn’t sure what to do. Charlie won’t be back until the afternoon so Peter decides to drive into Rye. He has promised to help in the garden, which is starting to get beyond Charlie, and needs to pick up a few things in the garden centre.
On an impulse he calls Emma. “Hi, do you want to come round after work?”
“Sure, does that mean I get to meet Sarah?”
“No, Sarah has had to go back to London for a few days but she’ll be back at the weekend. But Charlie will be here.”
“Why has she gone back – fed up with the place already? Have we scared her off?“
“Some crisis at work. Come at about 5.30?”
“That’s fine, see you then.”
Emma hasn’t been into the cottage for a number of years, but she remembers everything just as it was, Charlie hasn’t changed anything. She wanders round, touching old toys, fishing rods, old beach things. Childhood memories come surging back. She joins Charlie in the living room and looks out of the window towards the sea. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I still see the ghost boy sometimes, he haunts the beach.”
Charlie looks up. “What ghost boy?”
“The one on the beach. I saw him with you and Peter once, and again since.
“When did you see him with us?”
“Oh, years ago when we were playing with Liam. You were there with Mum I think. But he vanished. Have you seen him?”
Charlie feels cold and shivers. And he remembers. For a moment the feeling of sadness that he felt once before comes back. He feels as if someone is watching them and looks out of the window as if expecting to see the boy; but there’s no one there. He feels unsteady and his hands find the edge of the table. “I don’t know. There are always kids about, there’s no ghost. He was just some kid who happened to be on the beach that day. He’d have grown up by now. You’re just seeing other boys about the place. I haven’t seen him.”
“No, I’m sure it’s him” says Emma. “I haven’t seen him close up, but it’s the same boy, the same age, the same clothes. Looking for someone. You can feel it, he’s sad, like he’s been abandoned. I think he is looking for his father. Perhaps he got lost and was left here? Or abducted. There must be a story there, something happened to him. Did you ever hear of a boy dying here? An accident on the beach.”
“No, nothing like that.” says Charlie.
“I am going to research the history of this place. There must be old stories. Storms, shipwrecks.”
“You could start with the museum in Rye,” says Peter who has come in and overheard them. “There’s tons of old stuff there, we went there once. A project for the summer. But not for now, this isn’t a time for ghost stories. Let’s have a drink.”
But Sarah isn’t back at the weekend. The timetable on her deal is brought forward and they are going to work through the weekend to try to close it early in the next week. Sarah rings Peter a few times, but each call is shorter than the last. Peter spends the days helping Charlie sort out the garden, and they have supper in the local pub, tired and hungry. A couple of times Charlie asks about Sarah, but Peter doesn’t want to talk about her. “Leave it Dad, it’s OK”.
Friday Emma has a day off, and comes round to Maple Cottage. Charlie has gone out, and she comes for lunch, bringing fresh bread and a bottle of cold wine. They sit and talk, about when they were kids, what they have done since, talking like old friends who have never been apart. The afternoon drifts on and after a while they stop talking, enjoying the silence, enjoying the space. Peter has never been unfaithful, nor ever imagined that he could be, but suddenly those days and nights with Emma when they were teenagers come back to him, and in Sarah’s absence they find each other again.