her into the buggy. Tess felt low. She'd suddenly felt desperate to leave Swallows, couldn't get out of there quick enough; she'd felt claustrophobic, unwell, but now in the fresh air she felt wretched. For the first time in weeks, she longed for someone to talk to. She wanted to say, Christ, let's go and have a coffee and a cake. She wanted someone with whom she could share the unexpected emotion of the visit. Will we too grow so old? Will you choose your hair to be blue? Will my toes knit like that? Will our chins get whiskery? Will we not mind if our teeth are in or out? Might that be us – waiting and waiting for no one to visit us? Will we sit and wait to die?
She pushed the buggy along the clifftop and stood awhile looking down the path leading to the cliff lift. There was no one around.
‘I'm lonely,’ she said quietly. ‘I'm really really lonely.’ She was immediately ashamed of the emotion.
She took Em home, cursing herself for destroying her SIM card, cursing SIM cards for damaging her memory for numbers in the way that a computer spell-check had compromised her ability to spell. She didn't even know Tamsin's number by rote. Then she wondered about her mobile handset itself. Did it have a memory of its own? She switched it on. And found that it did.
Tamsin didn't recognize Joe's landline number so she didn't take the call. Tess, though, rang again and again until she answered curtly out of frustration.
‘Tamz?’
‘Tess? Jesus freaking Christ, where the fuck are you?’
‘Hullo.’
‘You can't send me a text out of the blue saying you're fine and going away for a bit without telling me the whys and wheres, and then go completely off the radar for – what is it now – a month!’
‘Sorry.’
‘Where are you? I even went round to your flat and tried to break in. I thought – I don't want to tell you what I thought but it was grisly. Don't laugh. It wasn't bloody funny at the time.’
‘Tamsin – sorry. I didn't think.’
‘Where. The fuck. Are you?’
‘Saltburn.’
There was a pause. ‘Where. The fuck. Is Saltburn?’
‘In Yorkshire.’
‘In Yorkshire.’
‘Yes, in Yorkshire. On the north-east coast. It's gorgeous.’ Another pause. ‘I'm so glad you're enjoying your extended holiday.’
‘Tamsin, don't sound like that.’
‘Look, lady, people have been worried sick.’
Tess paused, racked her brains. ‘Who?’
‘Don't pull the “I don't have any friends” stuff on me. I've been worried. Geoff too. And I bumped into that girl you worked with – she said it was the gossip at the salon.’
‘But I told them.’
‘You didn't tell them why or where.’
‘I couldn't.’
They both paused. ‘When are you coming back? And where are you going to live when you do? I'm moving in with Geoff next month – otherwise, if I'd only known – And I saw your landlord, bizarrely, when I went round to find your corpse – he had a face like thunder saying you'd done a runner.’
‘I have.’
‘So I said he should calm down and there was probably an explanation and maybe there'd been a family crisis – what did you just say?’
‘A runner. I have done a runner, Tamsin. I've run away. I'm not coming back.’
Tamsin didn't dare pause. ‘I sort of want to hang up on you, but if I do I'll risk you never calling me again.’
‘Don't hang up, Tamz. Please don't. You have this number now.’
‘Don't hang up on me either – I just need to know if you're OK?’
‘I think so. I will be.’
‘Tess, were things really that bad? Why didn't you turn to me? I know Clapham is the other side of the world to Bounds Green – but Yorkshire's even further.’
Tess paused. ‘I had to go.’ Memories came back and she shuddered. ‘People made it seem that things were very bad for me.’
‘So you're hiding? How the hell can that help? You can't hurl your secrets out to sea and hope they'll disappear into the deep depths.’
‘Actually, I'm house-sitting, not hiding, and it can help. It already has. It's the most beautiful, beautiful place. And the man is called Joe – he builds bridges. And there's an old lady – Mary. I've just found out she's his mother. And there's a surfer called Seb. And a dog called Wolf. And a garden, the size of which you just can't imagine.’
‘It all sounds charmingly Mary Wesley, Tess.’
‘I had to leave, Tamsin. I know it's cowardly. But it was the only option. I was really starting to panic.’
‘I kept telling you to go to the Citizens Advice Bureau.’
‘I don't want advice. I know what they'll say. All I want is to bury the bad stuff. I just want a new start.’
‘Tess Tess Tess.’
‘I know,’ Tess said, ‘I know, I know.’
‘Don't you think you might be burying your head in the sand?’
‘I don't do beaches, Tamsin.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘I don't think so. I'm not actually hurting anyone.’
‘But you – are you OK? And my goddaughter – is she OK too?’
‘We're both very OK. Em's really blossoming. It's just that today I felt a little – I don't know. Lonely. I don't want to cry –. Shit.’
‘Oh, Tess, come back – I'll help you work things out.’
‘You can't.’
‘Well, what can I do? Who knows you're there?’
‘Just you. And my sister.’
‘And I bet she's really interested.’
Tess considered this. And she realized that her sister hadn't even sounded surprised to hear from Tess, let alone to discover she had packed up her life and left London for a seaside town in the North. Tamsin's initial fury at Tess was different. It came from genuine concern. It came from love. And that helped. Tess didn't feel quite so lonely. She might not have Tamsin to hand, she might not see her for quite some time. But the fact that she was there for her, in spirit and now, at the end of the phone, was a comfort.
‘Please
