Eleanor Jones - A Home For Her Baby

Ali sipped her cappuccino slowly, still trying to process what she’d seen.

“So...” Jake asked. “Are you going to tell me what’s up or is this purely business?”

Putting down her cup she looked up at him, smiling. “Sorry...right now it was about me taking pity on a homeless boy this morning and giving him way too much money. I just saw him now though, down a side street, obviously buying drugs, and it sickened me... I thought I was helping but I’ve probably just made his situation worse. What if he ODs and it’s my fault?”

Jason laughed. “Oh Ali, you really have been out of the city for too long. You can’t help people like that. They’re on a road to destruction I’m afraid. I see it every day when I’m driving home.”

“But he’s someone’s son,” Ali cried. “And surely everyone deserves to have some help.”

“When you put it like that,” Jason responded. “I guess they do. Anyone’s kid can go down the wrong road I suppose... But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there, Ali. Look, we’re friends aren’t we? Tell me what’s been happening to you first and then we can discuss work.”

Ali shook her head slowly. The thought of unburdening herself to someone outside of the tragedy in Jenny Brown’s Bay was so tempting...and yet. “It’s my problem, Jason,” she said. “I’m here to see if you have any work for me...that’s all.”

Jason folded his arms across his chest, stroking his neat brown beard. “I have plenty of time today and as I just said...we can discuss work when we’ve talked about you. We go back a long way, Ali, why, you knew me before I was a hotshot editor.”

“Well you’re certainly that now,” Ali remarked, lightening the mood.

Jason grinned. “And proud of it, too. Anyway, back to you... I want to help and so would Laura if she was here. Look how you were there for us and the kids when our house got flooded, not to mention all the other times. I’m not taking no for an answer I’m afraid. I’ll go get us another coffee and then you can tell me all about it.”

By the time Jason came back with the coffees he’d obviously given his approach some thought. Sitting down opposite her he looked Ali in the eye.

“Why don’t you tell me about your dad first,” he suggested. “Last time I saw you you’d just met up with him again as I remember...”

“He died,” she blurted out and suddenly the floodgates opened. “Sorry...it’s all still a bit raw. He was ill when I found him you see...with cancer. He lived alone in a little fishing village in the northeast; he had friends to help him of course but no one close. We talked, a lot, about his life and why Mum left with me when I was small, but he didn’t bear a grudge. In fact he was sorry to hear that she’d died and he blamed himself for her leaving him all those years ago. I really got to know him in those last few weeks and I came to understand something of the fisherman’s passion for the sea—it’s a way of life, a vocation, I suppose, and it causes rifts in so many marriages. He loved it though to his dying day and he opened my eyes to the magnificence of the sea... That’s why I ended up at Jenny Brown’s Bay.”

“Jenny Brown’s Bay,” Jason repeated slowly. “Is that a fishing town then?”

Ali nodded. “It’s just a village really. I still have a cottage rented there. Jake and I split you see...”

“Well I’m not surprised at that,” Jason cut in. “Never did like the guy.”

“But you only ever met him a couple of times.”

“Two times too many then. You’re well rid of him.”

“I’ve come to realize that,” said Ali sadly. “Anyway, I was still cut up about my dad when Bobby, a student of Jake’s who I’d gotten to know, suggested I stay at his parents’ pub for a while. I’d decided to write an article on fishing, in memory of my dad. He thought I could do some research there.”

“And did you?”

“Oh yes,” she nodded eagerly, remembering. “I used to have long chats with Bobby’s brother Tom, he was passionate about fishing just like Dad... In fact all Bobby’s family were. And I talked to some of the old fishermen, too, they used to come to the pub in the evenings. I learned a lot from them...except perhaps about the danger.”

Jason leaned toward her, speaking in a gentle tone. “So what happened there?” he asked. “Obviously it was something traumatic...or is this all just about your dad?”

For a moment Ali went quiet. “In a way it’s about Dad,” she began, struggling to keep her voice steady. “But there’s more.”

Jason waited for her to go on, saying nothing.

“Bobby suggested I go on a night fishing trip with him and his brothers, you know, for my research. Tom was dead against it...they had a row. He said he wasn’t prepared to take a rookie on a night trip, especially a woman, as it was far too dangerous. You know me, I was furious and, bottom line, he gave in and said that although he didn’t approve, since his father, Jed, didn’t seem to mind, I could go along. After he’d agreed, in fact, he found me some waterproofs and gave me advice about the trip... I was so looking forward to it—it was important to my dad that I scatter his ashes in the sea.”

“And I’m guessing it went wrong,” Jason said.

Ali looked at him ashen-faced. “There was a storm, Bobby drowned and it was all my fault. I took a stupid risk, didn’t listen to orders. When I went overboard he jumped in to save me...”

He reached across to place a sympathetic hand on her arm. “Accidents happen, Ali...you can’t take all the blame.”

“I can this time,” she said quietly.

“You must have liked it there if you rented a cottage,” Jake said “You should go back...face your demons I suppose you could call it.”

Ali nodded. “I’ve thought about it. I was considering writing a book instead of just an article, and maybe make it about Bobby. I could still dedicate it to Dad, too.”

“It’s a lovely idea,” Jason agreed. “Tell you what, why don’t you come and stay with us for a couple of days. Laura would love to have a chat with you and the kids will cheer you up and bring you down to earth. Then you can decide whether to come to work at The Times or go back to your fishing village and write.”

“Deal,” Ali cried, holding out her hand to shake his. “And, Jason...”

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

With a broad grin he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll ring Laura right now,” he said. “She’ll be over the moon...and, Ali...”

“Yes?”

“If you do decide to stay and work here for a while then you’re welcome to our spare room you know.”

“I might just take you up on that. It will give me time to get my head straight and let things settle down a bit before I go back to Jenny Brown’s Bay.”

“Or not?” Jason responded.

Ali shrugged. “Who knows.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE SEA WAS already rough when the boat set out across the bay in the crisp light of dawn. “Are you sure about this?” Ned called above the chugging of the engine.

Tom looked up at the rolling gray clouds; ice-cold spray splattered across his face and gulls screamed overhead as The Sea Hawk cut through the waves. “What do you think?” he responded, looking across at his brother.

“That we should have done it sooner.”

“Then let’s go fishing,” Tom cried, feeling more alive than he had since they set off on that fateful fishing trip. Deep down he’d been dreading going back out onto the water but now he realized he’d been wrong to delay it, for the ocean still felt like home, just as it always had before.

As if trying to make up for the tragedy it had caused, the sea was abundant with its offerings. When they got to the fishing ground both men worked hard and fast, hauling in cod after cod, delighting in the job they loved and exhilarated to be back out on the open waves.