Page 24 of Snow Falls Over Starry Cove
‘And what have you got against books?’ Judging by his diction, he hasn’t spent too much time anywhere near books – in other words a school, let alone a library.
‘Me? Nothin’.’
‘Good. Because I could recommend a few good ones.’
‘I don’t have much time to read.’
Too busy drinking your life away, probably.
‘Well, maybe you could find the time and enrich your life with some proper words. Belonging to the English language. There are so many books you could read.’
He grins. That same arrogant grin he gave me while assessing me in the toilets.
‘Yeah?’
‘Yes.’
‘What about?’
‘Anything you like. There are books on practically everything.’
‘Can you recommend one on how to disappear?’
I baulk. ‘Well, that’s rather rude. But I must assume you don’t know any better. Goodbye.’ I huff, turn my back and march away.
I don’t know quite what it is, but I have to admit that his mere presence is somewhat unsettling. Or rather, unbelievable. It’s a good thing he’s a loner, as I can’t see anyone wanting to spend time with him. Because beyond the physical presence – or, as Maisie had put it, the ‘hunky looks’ – he has literally nothing else going for him. And in a way, I feel sorry for him. But whatever he’s done to alienate the rest of his fellow villagers, he’s undoubtedly brought it upon himself.
‘Stop,’ comes his voice from behind me. ‘I meant for me. I meant thatIwant to disappear.’
I turn. ‘You?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why do you want to disappear?’ I blurt before realising it’s none of my business in the least. His passing comment on his parents belies the fact that he can’t remember them. Did they fall out? Or did he lose them when he was young? Either way, he’s not a happy camper and the root lies deep in his childhood. I recognise the engrained sadness in his eyes. I see it in the mirror every morning.
‘It’s what people do,’ he says with a simple shrug, lingering, as if debating whether to strike up a personal conversation with a complete stranger or not.
My best bet is that he may have already exhausted his chances in this tiny village of any real friendships and that he must be lonely to talk just for the sake of it with someone he doesn’t know. Or like, as a matter of fact.
‘Abandonment is their favourite sport,’ he says.
Ah. So he was left behind. Abandoned as a child, perhaps. I understand where he’s coming from. But I can’t ask, even if I recognise a kindred spirit. We abandonees do have that sixth sense.
‘Isn’t it simpler to move away?’ What’s the difference between being a bum here or in the next county comes to my lips, but I clamp my mouth shut.
He smirks. ‘Moving away ain’t gonna solve anythin’. It never does, in case you were hopin’. Troubles have a habit of followin’, wherever we go. And believe me, I’m trouble. SoI’mgonna head this way and you do yourself a favour and head that way.’
And just like that, he lifts his collar against the stiff breeze, turns his back on me and stalks off back in the direction from which he came.
One hundred people in this village, if that, and I’ve already met the weirdest one.
And now to find my grandparents’ home. It’s so sad to think that I could have met my grandfather, had anyone bothered to tell me I had one. They certainly knew about me.
The Heatherton residence is at the opposite end of the village and, as it turns out, difficult to locate for one particular reason: it’s not next to anything. Because it’s not evenonRectory Lane but in a close of its own. I stop at the wrought-iron gates and peer through with a gasp. Beyond the bars lies a lavish, luxuriant park and a Tudor mansion. I check the address again from my Post-it note: Heatherton Hall, 1 Rectory Lane, Starry Cove.
It’s the right address, but it doesn’t make sense. There must be some mistake, because my mother’s family aren’t wealthy. I take a deep breath as I suddenly realise I’ve come here blindly, without so much as doing any research into the family. And now that I have this extra piece of information, I’m even more intimidated.
I can’t just show up on her doorstep unannounced, can I? And say what, exactly? ‘Hi. Sorry, got your letter but I thought I’d come and check you out in the meantime. And by the way, nice digs.’ I should have found out beforehand what I was getting myself into. But who googles their own family, albeit an estranged one? I’d purposely not looked for anything about them because I’d wanted it all to be fresh, like starting over on a new slate. But this? Far from it. If Audrey makes me feel inadequate with her London home, you can imagine how tiny this historical mansion makes me feel.
