The whole island was a special place. Sally had been sceptical about her son's plans, but when she visited the island during construction, she started to see the potential, and she could certainly see the beauty. She could see the positives for the boys too. The old house was so sombre since the loss of Lucille, every part of it a reminder of what they had lost. A new house would help them through, allow them to see a new future. Yes, the pain would still be there and felt, but Lucille wouldn't have wanted them to live the way they were.
Sally had followed the natural trails, after Jeff had finished the tour and gone off to consult with the builders. These were the trails Scott now jogged down, John took to his favourite stargazing spot, and Alan and Gordon took down to the small beach which appears at low tide. But it was the trail that lead off behind the house, and through the island valley, which Sally loved the most. It wasn't scenic and she'd had to level it out because it had been quite treacherous at points. When she looked up at the foreboding towering cliffs, that occasionally rained down rocks when a Thunderbird or two took off, a shiver always ran down Sally's spine.
But once through the valley, it was a short walk to a natural plateau, which Sally had made her own. It was her little garden, away from the hustle and bustle of the house, with a fantastic view of the ocean. It was sheltered from the wind, and she had made raised beds which she had filled with her favourite flowers. There was a bench in a small crevice, with pillows hidden in its seat, as well as a portable display so she could keep an eye on the boys without having to head back to the house.
There was a raised bed reserved for growing food. She may not be able to cook, but she could certainly grow things, not that the island grown food made it to the house that often. Sally would nibble on it as she sat with a good book, especially the tomatoes and strawberries. She'd once caught Alan and Gordon literally red-handed eating them. Let's just say, a week of cooking for just the two of them, and they had never touched her plants again. Virgil was the only one who would frequently come and sit with her in the garden. Sometimes he would sit with an engineering book or look at the latest paintings of an artist he liked. Other times, he would bring his easel and Sally was quite content to watch his masterpieces form.
Today, she picked the last of the strawberries and washed them in the tap Jeff had installed. Pulling up a small table, Penelope placed the teapot and cups down, along with the sandwiches and cake. Sally filled a bowl with water for Sherbet, who lapped it gratefully, before settling down beside Penelope for afternoon tea. It was Jeff's birthday and it had become a tradition between the two women to have afternoon tea on the island together. Last year the tide had been in their favour and the beach had been a beautiful spot. This year they decided on Sally's garden, both wanting to enjoy the secluded area where they wouldn't feel the emptiness of the island as much. Neither woman wanted to admit that this year was different. It was less sombre, and they both held on to the hope of being reunited with Jeff. With no communication from the ship, the women were in the dark, and the two had grown ever closer with the shared fears over the boy's and Kayo's safety. They had already agreed that they just wanted them all back safe, with or without Jeff. Sally looked up at the sky, her heart telling her that this time next year, she wouldn't be having afternoon tea with just Penelope.