by Liz Eeles
* * *
The house is sleeping when I slip out of bed at dawn the next morning and sit at the window with my chin in my hands.
Josh is snoring gently behind me and I’m dead tired but my mind is full of images from yesterday: the church filled with flowers, Storm and Amanda hugging, Kayla doing the hokey-cokey, my dad giving us thirty thousand pounds. I crane my neck to make sure Barry’s cheque is still safely tucked under the lamp on the chest of drawers. First thing on Monday morning, that’ll be deposited in the bank and Tregavara House will have her new roof.
We’ll have to be careful with our day-to-day finances, but the B&B option is still a possibility and I just know we can make this place work. We’ll stay in Salt Bay and life will go on as normal except for Kayla not being around. I’ll miss everything about her – except the way she uses paperclips as dental floss. But it’s right that she’s leaving with Ollie, and Keswick isn’t as far away as Sydney.
Plus, don’t forget, chips in my inner voice, everything changes eventually and even difficult change is often ultimately for the best. Blimey, that’s the most profound thing my inner voice has ever said. All it does normally is hurl personal insults my way. But I’ve never felt this peaceful before or so much at home.
Ooh, this is all a bit heavy for seven o’clock. I lean out of the window and take a deep breath of fresh Cornish air to clear my head. The sun is a pale lemon ball just above the horizon and only a few wispy clouds are scattered across the translucent sky. There’s a September nip in the air, but it’s going to be another gorgeous day in Salt Bay and ideal for our post-wedding picnic on the beach. Anyone who wants to come is invited and Peter and his friends are primed to ferry us there and back in their rowing boats.
The sun hits my window as it creeps up the stone of Tregavara House and I shield my eyes from the sudden glare. There are people on the cliffs even though it was dark just a short while ago.
I squint through the bright light at the fuzzy outline of three people – a woman with long fair hair and an older woman with white hair holding the hand of a small child. Suddenly I can hardly breathe. The younger woman raises her hand as though she’s waving. But when I blink to clear my vision, they’ve gone. It must have been a trick of the light.
Epilogue
Two years later
‘You’re so lucky to live in such a beautiful place. Have you owned this house for long?’
‘Only a couple of years but it’s been my family’s home for over two centuries.’
Stephanie, a tax inspector from Milton Keynes, stretches out on the steamer chair under the apple tree and gives a deep sigh of contentment. She was so stressed out when she arrived two days ago she could hardly speak but Salt Bay is working its magic on her already. By the end of the week she won’t want to leave. None of our guests do.
Emily wanders into the garden in Alice’s old apron and places a frosted glass of lemonade on the side table next to Stephanie. Her attentiveness is one of the reasons why our B&B visitors are so keen to return and we couldn’t run the business without her.
She pushes hair from her eyes and waves at Josh, who’s sitting on a rug at the back of the garden, where the shadow from the cliff provides shade from the sun.
‘It’s such beautiful weather today, a real Indian summer. Shall I get Millie a drink?’
‘That would be lovely. Thanks, Emily.’
Josh beckons to me as Emily heads for the kitchen and I walk over in bare feet, enjoying the feeling of grass between my toes. It’s been hot recently though temperatures haven’t topped the heatwave summer we had two years ago when we took wedding photos on the cliffs and the garden was filled with family and friends. So much has changed since then but the important things have stayed the same.
I bend down and brush my lips against Josh’s before sweeping a giggling Millie Alice Joanna Trebarwith Pasco into my arms. She’ll curse us when she starts school and kids find out how long her name is, but I’ll explain how proud she should be of her names and her heritage and she might forgive me.
‘This dreadful child thinks I’m a climbing frame,’ says Josh, lying back with his hands under his head. ‘I thought she’d settle down and sleep back here where it’s cooler but she’s stubborn like her mother.’ He grins when I play-kick him in the shin and closes his eyes. ‘I think I might have a little snooze if you’re on monster duty.’
Millie throws her chubby arms around my neck and snuggles into my shoulder. Her last bottle was a while ago, but she has a sweet milky smell and I take an extra deep breath to drink it in.
Enjoy every moment because they don’t stay babies for long, says Maura, and I’m trying though it’s not always easy when she’s yelling the house down while guests are sleeping. And as for cracked nipples, don’t even get me started. Florence is disgusted that I’ve given up breastfeeding, but she’ll get over it.
I wander with Millie towards the front garden so she can see the bright blue of the ocean and, if we’re lucky, the stray black cat she adores that stretches out on the harbour wall. ‘Cat’ is likely to be my daughter’s first word and Josh and I are well aware of where we come in the pecking order.
‘Hey there, can I come in?’
The gate squeaks when it swings open and Millie starts bouncing up and down in my arms. She’s always the same when she spots her Auntie Kayla.
‘I was out for a walk and thought I’d check how my gorgeous goddaughter’s doing. Still causing you grief in the early hours?’
‘Oh, yeah. She had us up twice in the night and the last nappy just before dawn was a right belter.’
Kayla wrinkles her freckled nose and squeezes Millie’s bare feet. ‘I did warn you about the joys of parenthood. Having spoken to the Smug Marrieds about kids the other day, just be grateful you have any pelvic floor left. Have you heard anything from Freya?’
‘So far so good. She rang her mum yesterday and said she was having a wonderful time and Toby was about to take her to an ice rink.’
‘No way! I can’t imagine Toby on skates.’
‘Me neither but at least he’s trying and having Freya to stay with him in London is a big step. I’m sure he’s mellowing a bit.’
‘You always do think the best of him, though he doesn’t deserve it.’
Kayla starts waving frantically at Jennifer and Roger, who are about to go for a walk across the cliffs. They’ve reached the foot of the winding path and appear to be arguing if Jennifer’s body language is anything to go by.
‘Those two are seriously weird,’ says Kayla, pushing her sunglasses into her hair. ‘There’s definitely no hanky-panky going on, but they spend loads of time together and seem devoted to each other.’
‘In their own grumpy, complaining way.’
‘Yeah, maybe it’s the mutual moaning that turns them on.’
‘Talking of which…’
Storm is coming out of the front door lugging an art case the size of a small country. She drops it with a clatter onto the path and it falls against a shrub that’s already been partly flattened by summer winds and squalls.
‘There’s no way I can carry this about in London without taking out a few tourists,’ she announces. ‘They’re all going to hate me on the Tube – the passive-aggressive staring will be legend. Do you know Millie’s trying to shove her entire fist into her mouth? That kid is messed up.’ A soppy smile spreads across her face. ‘But I’m gonna miss her apart from the appalling smells.’
Millie’s going to miss her aunt too. We all are when Storm leaves for London in a few days’ time to stay with Barry in his swanky new flat and study art at college.
I thought Amanda had lost it when she sent Storm an easel and painting kit a couple of Christmases ago. But it turned out to be the best present ever – Storm started sitting on the harbour wall with her paints when she got bored and produced some breathtaking pictures. One of the best – a riot of broad grey and green brushstrokes that captures the changing sea and brooding sky – is
hanging in the sitting room and often admired by guests.
‘Do you need a hand with your packing later? I can help this evening when Millie’s asleep.’
My daughter starts wriggling in my arms at the sound of her name and I sit her down carefully on the grass. She mostly stays upright these days but has the occasional topple when we’re not looking. And so far, she’s not fussed about crawling.
‘Nah, you’re all right. I can’t take too much ’cos Barry’s car is so ridiculously small. It would make much more sense for Mum to pick me up and I don’t know why Barry’s insisting on driving down.’
No doubt because he’s keen to snatch time with the granddaughter who’s stolen his heart. He doesn’t get to Cornwall much these days now his song-writing talents are in demand – Weirdo Wayne has shedloads of contacts in the music business and Barry has taken full advantage of them. But when he does pay us a visit, he turns into a besotted granddad the minute he kicks off his trainers.
‘Anyway, I’m off to say goodbye to Serena and will be back later. I was going to show her my latest pictures, but I can’t be bothered to take the case on the bus so put it back in my room, will you?’ Storm hurries past us and calls out as she’s scooting up the road: ‘Bye, Kayla. Are babies allowed to eat flowers, by the way?’
Probably not. I stick my finger in Millie’s dribbly mouth and pull out a masticated daisy. This baby lark took me and Josh by surprise – we weren’t expecting me to get pregnant so quickly after we started trying – and we’re still feeling our way through it.
But Marion is a brilliant babysitter and everyone in the village seems more than happy to give us advice when we’re out and about with Millie in her pushchair.
‘Hey, Kayla. I didn’t know you were here.’ Josh is wandering across the grass, waving a feeding cup. ‘Tom brought this out for the bubs. Here you go, sweetheart.’ He stoops down, places the lidded cup in Millie’s tiny hands and strokes her wispy fair hair before getting to his feet. ‘Mum just called and offered to babysit on Monday night if you fancy seeing the new Bond film. Our last chance of freedom before school starts again and you go back to work.’
‘Sounds great,’ I say, pushing down a flutter of anxiety at the thought of leaving Millie. I’m only going back to the charity part-time and she’ll be well looked after by Marion and Emily but it’s going to be strange.
‘Why don’t you and Ollie come too?’ asks Josh. ‘We can double-date and snog in the back row.’
Kayla grins. ‘You know what a Bond freak Ollie is. He’ll love it so count us in. Ooh, it’s so brilliant to see you all and be back in Cornwall.’ She links her arm through mine and takes a deep breath of fresh, sea air.
She and Ollie moved back to the area a few weeks ago after Ollie made such a success of boosting sales for his company up north, he was asked to do the same in the south-west. I doubt they’ll stay around for long because Ollie’s got the travel bug and is talking about working abroad, but I’ll enjoy their company while I can.
‘Right, I can’t stand here chatting all day. I have things to do, people to see and Roger to annoy,’ says Kayla, bending down and kissing Millie’s soft cheek. ‘So I’ll see you on Monday if not before and you must come and have a meal with us soon in our tiny hovel.’
The cottage they’re renting in Trecaldwith is small, admittedly, but it has a sea view and a back garden that slopes up towards the moors so calling it a hovel is pushing it.
Kayla waves before walking off towards the village and I turn my back to the blinding sun to watch her go. She put on weight after moving to the Lake District – apparently extra calories were essential to cushion her against the bitter climate – and it suits her. The green sundress she’s wearing complements her auburn colouring and looks fabulous.
‘Do you think the monster will drop off if we take her out in the pushchair?’ asks Josh, stifling a yawn. ‘If she doesn’t sleep soon, we’ll have to try and keep her awake until bedtime which’ll be a nightmare for all concerned.’
* * *
Millie grizzles when she’s strapped into her pushchair but her eyelids droop and have closed before we reach the village green. The sun is starting to sink towards the horizon and cottages are bathed in gorgeous golden light that reflects off the windows and sparkles in the rushing river.
‘Cyril’s still out and about,’ says Josh, steering the pushchair towards the wooden seat near the telephone box where he often sits on a sunny afternoon.
Cyril spots us and gives a wave when we get closer but doesn’t try to get up. He’s become increasingly frail since a bad bout of bronchitis last winter and moving hurts. Pain has etched its mark on his lovely old face, but he uses a walking stick and still manages to get to choir rehearsals. Roger and Gerald have promised to link arms and give him a chair-lift if he ever can’t make it.
‘How’s the bonny babe?’
He smiles and strokes Millie under the chin while Josh and I pray she won’t wake up. She shuffles slightly in her pushchair and sighs but carries on dreaming of milk and cuddles and cats on harbour walls.
‘She’s doing fine,’ I tell him. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m not so bad and looking forward to choir starting up again on Wednesday. Have you sorted out what we’ll be practising for the Christmas concert?’
‘We’re coming up with some options at the moment though it seems ridiculous thinking about Christmas when the weather’s so gorgeous. We’ve got some potential new members coming along which is exciting – the young couple who’ve moved in to Enid’s old house and a bloke from Trecaldwith who’s impressed by our prize-winning reputation.’
Cyril chuckles. ‘It’s good to have new blood to take the place of us oldies who are dying off.’
I bend and kiss his wrinkled cheek because the thought of Cyril not sitting here on sunny afternoons watching the river rush to the sea is so sad. But the cycle of life and death goes on in Salt Bay. Villagers die and new ones take their place – like Millie and two-year-old Henry, who’ll soon have a new brother or sister. Pippa told us she was pregnant again in the pub last week.
After spending a few minutes with Cyril, we push Millie past the church where she was christened and Maureen’s Tea Shop where we take her for tiny cubes of Madeira cake that she mashes into her mouth. Then we head past Jennifer’s shop and the pub for the rising fields that mark the end of the village.
Pushing Millie over rough ground is risky. But she’s so deeply asleep the rhythmic bumping doesn’t disturb her and we park her pushchair in the shade of a windblown tree when we arrive at the bench.
Technology is gradually creeping into Salt Bay and even Jennifer has computerised her stock system, but you still need to stand on this bench and wave your mobile in the air to get a decent signal if your landline goes down. It’s mad – and yet strangely, peacefully wonderful.
‘What are you thinking about?’ Josh shuffles his backside close to mine and puts his arm around my shoulders.
‘I’m thinking that we’ll need to go and visit Storm sometimes when she goes up to London.’
Josh groans. ‘If I must but I’m worried you’ll realise what you’re missing and insist we all up sticks and move up there with her.’
‘I think I might miss this place rather more. Aren’t we lucky!’
‘We are,’ says Josh and there’s no need to spell out why because our good fortune is laid out here in front of us.
I glance at Millie, who’s snoring softly as a warm breeze tickles her toes and push my hand into Josh’s. Then we sit in silence for ages, looking across the valley while his thumb caresses the back of my wedding ring.
Salt Bay is the same as it’s been for generations. Cottages are clustered together around the green and the squat tower of the church and there, where the village ends, is Tregavara House with its shiny new roof. Beyond it, the sun is glowing red as it sinks towards the silver sea and streaks of orange and pale gold are painted across the sky.
‘Come on,’ sa
ys the man I love with all my heart. ‘Let’s go home.’
* * *
Did you miss the start of Annie and Josh’s love story? Find out how Annie really felt about Salt Bay when she first arrived in Annie’s Holiday by the Sea, out now!
Annie’s Holiday by the Sea
‘An idyllic, beautifully written, heart-warming story that made my heart swell with joy… Absolutely beautiful; I love everything about this book.’ The Writing Garnet Blog, 5 stars
* * *
Get it here!
* * *
When twenty-nine-year-old Annie Trebarwith receives an unexpected letter from a great-aunt she’s never known, she leaves her shoebox-sized flat in London and catches a train to the rugged Cornish coast.
* * *
Salt Bay is beautiful and Annie begins to kindle a bond with her great-aunt Alice. Even though there is zero phone signal and the locals – including the gorgeous but brooding Josh Pasco – can be decidedly grumpy at times, Annie starts to feel at home in Salt Bay.
* * *
Soon Annie’s love of music leads her to relaunch the Salt Bay Choral Society, and she’s surprised to see just how much the choir means to the community – and she even starts to break through Josh’s surly exterior…
* * *
But London is calling Annie back, and she has to make a decision. Give up her old life completely, or leave Salt Bay, her new-found family – and the choir – behind?
* * *
Annie’s Holiday by the Sea is a heart-warming story about family, belonging and the healing power of music, perfect for fans of Jo Thomas, Holly Martin and Carole Matthews.
