Darla dashed across the flybridge, down the staircase and then came to the same conclusion as Cameron. ‘How the hell do you get off this thing?’
‘You can’t, not for another three hours,’ said one of the crew as he skirted past.
Ros managed to take a breath before her dad came over. She held up her hands. ‘I know. I get it. I’ve done the wrong thing.’
Barry shook his head. ‘I’ve not come to have a go at you.’
‘Thank you.’ It was a huge relief.
‘Only you’re a fool if you’re going to let Cameron go. He’s the best thing to happen to you in years.’
Ros opened her mouth but before she could say anything Uncle Pete was waving Barry over for a photograph. Ros was left standing on one side of the flybridge with the wind in her hair and the ocean ahead of her. The promise of a beautiful sunset tickled the horizon. She’d never felt so dejected and alone in her life.
What was meant to be a happy evening had quickly turned into the night from hell, for her at least, but thankfully Barry seemed to be enjoying himself. Everyone was giving Ros the cold shoulder. Ironically as the breeze picked up people left the flybridge for the more sheltered deck below, leaving Ros alone with her thoughts and chilly shoulders.
She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see her mother ascending the staircase. That was all she needed. She returned to looking out to sea and the twinkling lights of the Isle of Wight in the hope Amanda would get the message.
‘I know I’m probably not who you want to talk to, but seeing as nobody else was offering I thought I should,’ said her mother.
‘It’s fine. Don’t feel obliged.’
‘Oh I don’t. I can see both sides of the issue. And I believe you have been treated somewhat harshly.’
‘Thank you,’ said Ros tentatively. Amanda was the last person who she would have expected to be on her side.
Her mother leaned her back against the rail and looked at Ros. ‘I did what you’re doing.’
‘Getting cold?’
Amanda ignored the quip. ‘I put my career before everything. I thought it defined me and if I took my foot off the pedal for a moment I would slip quickly down the corporate ladder and be lost in the sea of forgotten part-time mothers.’
She really painted a picture. ‘Are you admitting it was wrong to leave me and Dad?’
‘I’m saying I felt it was too much of a compromise to be a mother and a quantitative analyst. I feared trying to do both to a high standard would ultimately mean I would fail at one or both of them. Making a choice seemed like the only sensible option.’
‘Great. That does not make me feel any better.’
‘Your father and I discussed it before we had you. He was desperate for a child but I had a number of concerns. The whole mothering thing somewhat baffled me and still does. I knew I could do the basics and keep you alive—’
‘Goodness, I wasn’t a Tamagotchi, Mother.’
‘Indeed. Perhaps I should have practised with one of those first. You see, your father said he would pick up the majority share of the parenting duties. However, when it came to it he didn’t keep his side of the deal.’
Ros was stunned for a moment. ‘You’re blaming Dad?’
‘Not entirely. I understand that it wasn’t feasible for him to undertake that amount of childcare and if he had, his business would have suffered significantly. I think he wrongly assumed my maternal instinct would kick in and I would become your main carer but that didn’t happen. And he didn’t want you in nursery and childcare all the time.’
‘But that’s where I ended up because he couldn’t manage me and the business.’
‘Ironic really,’ said Amanda. ‘I think some people are not natural parents. Barry was far more at ease with you than I was. We never connected. I don’t know why. I waited until you were settled in school then I turned to the role I knew I could do well and that was being an analyst. I spent less time at home and more time at work until the relationship broke down irretrievably.’
Ros shook her head. ‘I’m sorry but if this little chat was meant to make me feel better I need to report that it’s not.’
‘I was simply explaining what happened. How the decisions I made took me down a particular path.’
‘And our relationship was just collateral damage?’ Ros shook her head at her mother’s lack of tact.
‘I continued to pay towards your upkeep, and we spoke every week.’ Amanda turned around and watched the lights with Ros. ‘Then your father asked me to stop calling because it was too upsetting for you. So I did. That was when I understood how much my job had cost me, because for the first time I realised that I did care a great deal about you. But it was too late to turn back. It seemed like it would be best for everyone if I just kept away.’
Ros wasn’t sure how to respond so instead they carried on watching the dying sunset together. Tonight it wasn’t having quite the calming effect it usually had on Ros.
At last Amanda spoke. ‘There’s the last ferry,’ she said, pointing at the vessel a little way off and following a straight course.
Ros turned her head although she had no idea why, it wasn’t exactly something unusual.
‘You used to love watching the ferries come in and out when you were young,’ said Amanda.
‘Did I?’ Ros had no specific recollection of this.
‘Yes. We used to go to a tiny strip of beach near the ferry terminal and sit on the bench there. Sometimes we’d stay until the sun went down. I don’t expect you to remember. It was a very long time ago,’ said Amanda as they both watched the ferry go by.
***
Darla was hopping mad and trapped on a boat with no escape other than to jump overboard, but worse than that she was hurt. Ros’s announcement had been a shock but it had been the realisation that Ros could simply move to another country without mentioning it to her and without any thought of the impact it would have. Impact was the right word – Darla felt like she’d been barrelled into by an out-of-control St Bernard and she knew exactly what that felt like.
When she left Oxford she’d left family and friends behind and Ros had been a lifeline. Someone cool-headed and calm who had helped her plan her way out of the mess she was in. They’d grown close or at least that was what Darla had believed until tonight. She knew Ros had her quirky ways but she’d always felt that deep down Ros cared and wouldn’t let her down – how wrong she had been. When she really needed her she was buggering off somewhere hot and sunny with no return ticket. Darla felt adrift. She watched the fading sunlight sparkle on the surface of the water like phones at a concert when the slow song is played.
The older partygoers had gone inside and were lounging on the plush leather seating, sipping drinks as their laughter drifted outside. Darla didn’t feel much like partying anymore. She looked around and saw Cameron sitting on the sun pad at the bow of the yacht. She wandered down to join him.
