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Authors: Santa Montefiore

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BOOK: The Mermaid Garden
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“I broke off with Joe.”

“Come and sit down, darling. I think you need a drink, don’t you?”

asked Grey, getting up to find her a glass.

“I should never have left in the first place.”

Marina noticed the heavy cloud that usually accompanied her

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everywhere was no longer in evidence. She had put down her sword

and come in peace. “I’m so pleased you’re back,” she said truthfully. “I’m sorry you and Joe didn’t work out. That must be a great disappointment.

But I’m happy you’re home.”

“It’s not a disappointment at all. I never cared about Joe. I never

really cared about myself. But I do now.” A smile crept onto her face

like a smug cat. “I see the world through different eyes. I’m never going to settle for second best again.”

Marina didn’t have to ask who was behind the change of perspective.

Grey, however, was oblivious and frowned quizzically. “That’s good,” he said, and poured her a glass of Pinot Grigio.

“Marina, I’d like to talk to you alone. Do you mind, Daddy?”

“I’ll give her some fortification, then,” he said, replenishing Marina’s wine. The two women stood up.

“Let’s go outside,” Clementine suggested.

Marina refused to give in to temptation and catch her husband’s

eye. She could feel his baffled stare. She assumed Clementine wanted

to talk about Rafa and felt her heart swell with pleasure that the child was at last looking to her for guidance. She’d tell Grey later when they were alone.

“I’ll just get my coat,” she said, striding into the hall.

“Me, too. It’s a chilly evening, but it’s so beautiful. I want to sit under the stars.”

Grey did notice the change in her tone of voice, however, the way

she said “beautiful” was different, as if she said it with her heart and really meant it.

The night was deep and dark but as soft as velvet. A brisk wind swept

off the sea, but it was a warm wind that smelled of salt and damp grass, and the roar of waves crashing against the rocks below was a distant,

friendly rumble. The moon shone brightly, every now and then hidden

from view by swift clouds that rolled across the sky. Clementine and

Marina walked down the lawn to sit on the bench. They were quite

exposed there, overlooking the ocean and far-off peninsular where the

lighthouse shone its warning light through the inky blackness. They

wrapped their coats around them and sat down.

“I never understood why you loved it here so much,” said Clementine

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with a contented sigh. “I was a town girl, happier on pavement than on

grass. Yet now, it’s as if a veil has been lifted from my eyes, and I see the extraordinary beauty of this place.”

“You do?”

“Yes, and it makes me feel good inside.”

“Nature is a wonderful healer. If ever I’m unhappy, I come out here

and absorb it. I always return feeling better.”

Clementine took a gulp of wine. “Marina, I want to apologize for

being such a cow.”

Marina took a gulp, too, astonished by her stepdaughter’s admission.

She didn’t think she had ever heard her say sorry in all the years she had known her. However, she wasn’t entirely convinced and decided not to

say anything until she was sure that there wasn’t an ulterior motive to her apology.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Clementine continued. “And I de-

serve it. If I was in your position, I wouldn’t believe me either. But

I really feel sorry. I do. Ever since I was little I’ve believed that you broke up my family and stole my father from under Mummy’s nose.

And I felt that you stole him from me, too. But there are always two

sides to every story, and I want to hear yours, if you’ll tell me. I’d like to understand from your point of view and put an end to my childish

interpretation. I’m adult enough to know that nothing is ever black and white.”

Marina felt her throat constrict and blinked back tears. She took her

stepdaughter’s hand. “I don’t know what to say. I never thought we’d

ever have the chance to sit alone like this and be honest and open with each other. You have no idea how long I have wished to talk to you,

woman to woman, and beg your forgiveness.”

Clementine was surprised how tender her heart felt. For a moment

she wondered whether it was the wine that had turned her all soft, but

then she felt the warmth in Marina’s hand and realized it was love that had thawed the ice there and opened it up like a tulip. “You don’t need my forgiveness,” she said softly.

“I do. When I fell in love with your father, he was married with

two small children. I could have walked away and left him in his un-

happiness, but I didn’t. I don’t suppose your mother ever spoke of the

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acrimony. According to your father, you were a family intact, but so

broken.

“Grey and I found each other because I, too, was lost. I recognized

the loneliness in him because I felt it so profoundly myself. There was a big difference in age, and he was very well educated, while I was not.

But we shared something, and together we found we had the power

to heal one another. I never set out to steal him, and I certainly never wanted to destroy a happy family. But, Clemmie, you
weren’t
a happy family, and in the end our love eclipsed everything else. I carry that on my conscience.

“What we did wasn’t right, but we felt it was best for everyone, in-

cluding you and Jake. I don’t know whether children are better off with unhappy parents, or with happy stepparents. I don’t have the answer.

But you can be sure your father has always loved you and Jake above all others, including me. You might not have felt it; as a little girl you were always so angry you pushed him away whenever he reached out to you.

I expected you to push me away, but I tried all the same. You must know that his love for you is unconditional.”

She drained her glass and swallowed hard, though her throat was so

tight it hurt as the wine went down. She stared out over the sea, and

Clementine felt a chill ripple across her skin from the inside.

“As you know, Clemmie, I cannot have children. It is my deepest

sorrow and something that claws at my heart every day and every

night. Sometimes, I can barely function because the desire to love is so strong. Most of the time I throw myself into the hotel and give that all the care and nurture I would give a child. It is a poor compensation, but it is all I have. You and Jake will never be mine, I have inherited you, and I thank Fate for that blessing. We haven’t had it easy, you and I. But I understand. I can never be a mother to you, and I wouldn’t expect to

be. But I do very much want to be your friend.”

Clementine began to cry. She realized then that she had so misun-

derstood her stepmother. The facts of her parents’ marriage breakup

were irrelevant, as were the facts of Marina and Grey’s affair—
they
had never been the issue. When the artichoke of her life was peeled away,

petal by petal, the core was love and the fact that Clementine had felt she had not been given enough.

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“I’ve been so selfish,” she sniffed. “I’ve only ever thought about my-

self and how little attention I’m getting. That’s all it is. I feel such a fool.” She thought of Rafa and how he had seen past the prickly petals

to the core all along. “And, Marina . . . ?”

“Yes?” Her stepmother put her arm around her and drew her close.

“What is it?” Clementine was crying so much now she was unable to

speak. “It’s okay, you mustn’t feel bad. It’s only natural to feel like you do. Every child wants their parents to love them above all others, and

marriage breakups—”

“It’s not that.” Clementine wiped her face with her sleeve and sat up.

“Oh, I see. There’s something else.”

“Yes. I’m in love. I’m desperately in love, and I don’t know what to do about it.” Her breath caught in her chest.

“Rafa?”

She nodded. “I don’t know how he feels about me. One moment

I think he’s going to kiss me, then he pulls away. I don’t know whether he leads everyone on like that, or whether I’m special. It’s been such a short time, but I’m crazy about him.”

“I can’t say I haven’t noticed that you’re keen on him. But I haven’t

seen you together enough to tell you how I think he feels.”

“Today he told me that I’m special. He took my hands and told me

I’m beautiful. Then, when I asked him if he said that to all the girls or if it’s just me, he said that it was just me. I could have sworn he was about to lean over and kiss me. He looked at me so intensely. But we got up

and drove back into Dawcomb, where he dropped me off outside Joe’s

flat. He knew I was going to break up with him.”

“And he didn’t suspect that he’s the reason?”

“I don’t think so. He said he could tell that I wasn’t in love with Joe.”

“I think we all worked that out.”

“So, what shall I do?”

Marina didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely nothing.”

Clementine was surprised: she was expecting a long lecture on how

to play hard to get.

“You’re lovely, Clemmie, just the way you are. He’d be a very stupid

man to let you go.”

Clementine wanted to cry again, with gratitude. “Thank you.” She

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put her arms around her stepmother’s small shoulders and hugged her

tightly. “I’m so happy we’re friends.”

“Me, too,” Marina agreed, closing her eyes.

When the two women returned to the stable block, Grey was still

up, watching a documentary about sea creatures on Sky. He was sur-

prised to see them both red-faced and shiny-nosed. Without a word of

explanation, Clementine marched up to him and put her arms around

his neck. She gave him a long, hard squeeze and planted a kiss on his

cheek. “I’m going to have a bath—my feet are freezing.” He watched,

amazed, as she walked lightly out of the room.

“What’s she taken?” he asked Marina.

“Come upstairs and I’ll tell you. I need to warm up, too.”

“What the devil have you been up to?”

“Long story, but I feel wonderful.” She sighed heavily, unburden-

ing years of pain, and grinned at him broadly. “You’re never going to

believe it.”

“The hotel’s heaving,” said Bertha the following morning, settling onto the kitchen chair like a nesting hen. “Shame it’s in such trouble.”

“What do you mean, trouble?” Heather asked, hugging her mug of

coffee.

“I’ve heard they’ve run out of money,” Bertha said in a low voice.

“Though you didn’t get that from me.”

“Who did you get it from then?”

Bertha pulled her earlobe. “Ear to the ground. Apparently, some

bigwig is coming down from London to make them an offer.”

Heather’s jaw unhinged. “Are you sure?”

“He’s Jewish.” Bertha raised an eyebrow.

“So?”

“Jake says Jews are clever.
Very
clever.”

“Clever won’t get them to sell the hotel if they don’t want to.”

“Well, I heard Jake talking to his father in the stable block, and it

sounded to me like they don’t have much choice in the matter.”

“They’ll have to bury Marina first. She won’t give in without a fight.

What’ll happen to us?”

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“I don’t know. They might get rid of some people, but not us. We’re

independable.”

“You mean indispensable?”

“That’s what I said, indispensable.”


You
might be, Bertha, but I’m not so sure about me. Anyone could do my job.”

“It’s not anyone they’d want, now, is it? They’d want experienced staff who know their way around.”

“Hope you’re right. Keep your ear to the ground and let me know if

you hear anything else.”

Clementine was no artist, but the only way to spend time with Rafa

was to join his class. He was pleasantly surprised when she appeared

on the cliff top to paint the lighthouse with Pat, Grace, and Veronica.

“I’ve got nothing else to do this weekend,” she said, sitting on a blanket with Biscuit.

Rafa gave her a sketch pad and some watercolors.

He bent down and whispered in her ear, “You’ve made it more fun

for me.”

“I’m really bad, though,” she replied, smiling at his compliment.

“Don’t stunt your ability with your negative attitude.”

“Well, I haven’t painted since school.”

“You’re here to have fun and to enjoy this peaceful place. I bet you

haven’t sat and observed every wave and every cloud, every blade of

grass and flower?” She looked at him quizzically. “Most of the time we

race through life with our eyes closed, absorbed in endless thought.

We miss the simple magic of a buttercup hidden in the grass. Now you

can really take the time to look around you with your eyes wide open

and enjoy the beauty of nature. You can fully exist in the present.” He grinned and stood up.

She dipped her brush into the water. “Very well, I’ll exist in the present. But I’m not sure my picture will be any better for it.”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “But
you
will be.”

BOOK: The Mermaid Garden
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