Page 116 of Somewhere Only We Know

I wasn’t sure I believed this myself, but the conversation felt like it needed a positive spin.

‘I guess you’re right,’ he said wistfully, ‘but I’d sure like to have known my daughter.’

‘And she would have loved to have known you too.’

We pulled into the airport car park, and he slowed down while we looked for a parking spot.

‘Well,’ he said, reversing smoothly into an empty space. ‘I’m not too scared to talk about my feelings anymore. So let me say how happy I am that you’re here.’

My heart could have burst with joy. ‘I’m happy to be here too.’

My phone buzzed with a message. It was from Harry’s friend, Lola, to say she had landed. Brontë’s book was finally in Bali.

Chapter 42

Bali

We’d arranged to meet Lola outside the terminal where the taxi drivers wait for their passengers. We found a space at the barriers and scanned every face. Scout sat down good-naturedly between us, Jackson keeping a tight hold of her lead. The flow of passengers pouring out of the doors was fast and furious. I’d met Lola once in the coffee shop in Leura but even so I wasn’t sure I’d be able to pick her out in a crowd.

‘Maggie?’ called a voice eventually.

Scout jumped to her feet and began wagging her tail.

A petite girl in linen dungarees stood at the opposite side of the barrier, waving. Her hair was arranged in two long braids; a layer of frizz had escaped, revealing little curls all along her hairline.

‘Yes! Lola, lovely to see you.’

She shrugged off her rucksack and pulled out Brontë’s book.

My eyes welled up with tears at the sight of it. ‘I thought I’d lost this for good.’

She handed it to me immediately. ‘You have no idea how scared I was in case I got my bag stolen. I mean, can you imagine the pressure to return this amazing book to you in one piece? Well, of course you can – you were the one who lost it in the first place.’

‘Thanks for reminding me.’ I clasped it to my chest. I was never letting it out of my sight again.

Jackson hooted with laughter. ‘Brutal.’

Lola blushed. ‘Sorry. I’m nervous.’

‘It’s fine, I’m nervous too. Thank you, thank you.’ I closed my eyes for a brief second, overwhelmed with relief. I’d got my girl back. I couldn’t wait to immerse myself back in her world again.

Lola looked at Jackson and back to me.

‘This is Jackson,’ I said. ‘And his dog Scout.’

‘I’m Brontë’s father,’ he added. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

There was the slightest crack in his voice as he said it. It would have been the first time he’d introduced himself as that and it looked like the experience had really moved him. Seeing his reaction moved me too.

Her eyes widened. ‘That is so cool. So you managed to find him without Brontë’s guidance? That is so … so romantic.’

‘You’ve read her book?’ It was so personal to her and me. And then of course, there were my own journal entries, words written from the heart, a love letter to my daughter, meant only for her.

‘Yes,’ she squeaked, slapping a hand over her mouth. ‘I’m sorry, but it was a long flight and I read the whole thing. Brontë is amazing; you must be so proud of her.’

‘We are,’ said Jackson gruffly, squeezing my hand.

I loved that he’d said we. All through my pregnancy and throughout Brontë’s life, there had been no we, only I. Whatever happened now, even if I left Bali and never saw him again, I’d know that we were both her parents; we shared a special connection.