The Saved by Liz Webb

Author:Liz Webb [Webb, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A huge Christmas tree has been erected in the square, ringed with circles of multicoloured lights. As I walk up from the dock, I hear fiddle music and see the light from the pub spilling out into the darkness. The faces of the drinkers idling outside swivel towards me as I approach. I nod at some half-recognised faces, but I don’t see Calder.

‘Nancy,’ calls Janey, walking over. ‘Everything OK?’

‘Have you seen Calder?’

‘He’s here somewhere, has something happened?’

‘No, it’s fine. Everything’s fine now. But I have to find him.’

I step through the low pub door and into the reek of beer, the cacophony of noise and the throng of people, all drinking, talking and laughing. The walls between the original rooms of the knocked-together cottages have been removed but without losing the supports, creating semi-walled-off areas. I turn endless corners, where people stare up at me, wide-eyed.

Calder’s nowhere to be seen.

‘Nancy,’ I hear and turn to see Hamish, looking flushed.

‘Where’s Calder?’

‘D’you want a drink?’

‘No. Is he here?’

‘Yeah, he’s somewhere about – he seems OK tonight. Life and soul of the party.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. He’s on top form.’

‘Oh … good.’

I’m suddenly shoved up against Hamish by the throng and remember that night of drinking in London.

He pushes a strand of hair out of my face.

‘Nancy,’ he murmurs.

‘Hamish, I’ve got it all wrong about Calder. I need to tell him, to help him. You and I – there is no you and I.’

I catch sight of Arran across the other side of the bar, staring at me standing so close to Hamish.

‘I have to find Calder,’ I blurt as I twist away from him. I push myself through the crowd. ‘Sorry, excuse me.’ It feels like the entire island is squashed into this place. How different they all are here from when they’re in church. There, it’s all clean lines, lowered eyes and silence. Here, it’s chaotic merging shapes, leering looks and a wall of noise. I move into the rear of the pub and step out into the back garden. It’s a freezing night, stars ridiculously clear in the inky sky. I miss the murky London skies, no stars, the blanketing of my old safe world.

And then I see Calder.

He’s holding a pint aloft. Laughing. Huge full-body belly laughs. His beer is sloshing out of his glass. He’s sweating, hair slicked back from his face, his body so relaxed and fluid. Seeing him like this is breathtaking. I step back into the shadows. It’s like going back in time. Like the film of our lives has reversed: back through this last week of horror, the hospital stay, the accident, the move up here, my night with Hamish and now I’m landing slap back in London, in All Bar One in Oxford Street and Calder’s meeting me after work, laughing uproariously about some shared joke. Calder and I loved to laugh, till drinks would spill and tears would pour down our faces. I’d totally forgotten that Calder, even though he existed only a few weeks ago.

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