by Liz Eeles
‘It’s hardly a dump. It just needs some tender loving care.’
‘A bit like you, babe.’
Matt swept her up into his arms and Rosie relaxed into his embrace. It was good that he was here, to support her and help her pack up what she needed to in the house.
‘Did you miss me?’ he whispered in her ear.
‘Of course.’ She had. Quite a lot. And she’d have missed him even more if she hadn’t been so focused on her grief and saving this house and unravelling secrets. She hugged him tight. ‘Thank you for coming. Were you getting lonely in Spain without me?’
‘Lonely and overworked, though Carmen is showing a great deal of promise. We’ve all been working overtime since you left at a moment’s notice.’
Rosie stiffened in his arms. ‘I didn’t have much choice. My mother died.’
‘I know,’ murmured Matt, stroking her hair. ‘Everyone understands and you need to stay until you’ve seen things through. It’s a bit of a bombshell, this dad thing.’
‘It certainly is.’ Rosie pulled away, not keen to talk about it so soon after Matt’s arrival. She picked up his suitcase. What on earth had he packed? It weighed a ton. ‘Come inside and I’ll show you around.’
Matt banged the front door shut and gazed around him, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the gloom.
‘The place could do with a new front door, but this entrance hall is a decent size and the original tiles and coving would be catnip to a buyer. Is that damp?’
‘Afraid so. The walls are a bit porous in places, though Liam says it’s easy enough to fix where the water’s getting in.’
Rosie suddenly remembered Liam’s gentle touch when he pushed her hair behind her ear. For a moment, she’d thought he was coming on to her, like the Liam of old, especially after that weird moment on market day. Teenaged Rosie would have been appalled, and just a tiny bit thrilled. But then he’d dropped his hand anyway. Of course he had. And Matt had arrived – a man who truly wanted her for herself.
‘I’m so glad you’re here, Matt,’ she said, launching herself into his arms. ‘Everything feels right now you’re here.’
‘Of course it does, babe. Of course it does,’ he murmured. ‘Come on. You can give me the Driftwood House tour later. Why don’t you show me the bedroom first?’
An hour later, Rosie lay with her head on Matt’s chest while he snored softly. Pale light filtered through her childhood bedroom, settling on dust in corners and Matt’s grey underpants on the floor. She hadn’t slept in here since arriving back at Driftwood House, but Matt sleeping in her mother’s bed wouldn’t have felt right.
Quietly, Rosie got up, slipped on her dressing gown and sat by the open window. A gentle breeze billowed the curtains while she studied Matt lying spread-eagled under the duvet.
She’d told him downstairs that everything felt right because he was here. But right now she felt more unsettled than ever. It was wonderful of Matt to – eventually – make the journey to support her, but he seemed out of place in Heaven’s Cove, as though he’d washed up by mistake in sleepy Devon.
Somewhere in the house, a door slammed as a draught snaked through an ill-fitting window. What was she doing here when her life was now a thousand miles away? She was settled there, kind of. She had an apartment, a boyfriend, two jobs, friends to drink with in the local bar, and the weather was amazing. She looked through the window at the dark clouds massing on the horizon.
But sometimes she missed the passing seasons, the unpredictable weather and the sense of being rooted. She and Heaven’s Cove hadn’t always seen eye to eye, but this village, this view, had anchored her recently while grief and secrets swirled around her. Most of all, she missed her mum, whose presence could almost be felt within these walls.
‘You all right, babe?’ Matt yawned and stretched his arms above his head.
‘Fine, thanks. I was getting some air.’
‘What were you thinking?’
Rosie tensed. She hated that question. ‘This and that. Mostly, I was thinking about Heaven’s Cove and about Mum.’
‘I am sorry about your mum.’ He raised himself up on one elbow. ‘She was quite a one for secrets, wasn’t she? Lying about this house and not saying a word about your mysterious father. What a woman! Do you really think that Epping man is your dad?’
‘I don’t know. I think it’s likely but I don’t have any proof.’
‘You could get it.’ When Matt sat up, the duvet slipped down his hairy chest. ‘You could force him to do a DNA test.’
‘I don’t think anyone could force Charles Epping to do anything.’
‘I bet you could. There must be some legal way of forcing the issue.’
‘I don’t want to force anything, and Mum obviously didn’t want me to know him.’
‘Yeah, but your mum’s dead.’
Wow, that was blunt. Rosie winced but Matt was too busy getting out of bed and pushing his legs into his pants and trousers to notice. ‘I don’t understand why you’re so reluctant to pursue this.’
‘I don’t know. Everyone in Heaven’s Cove hates the Eppings so it won’t do much for my popularity round here if they think we might be related.’
‘What do you care? You’ll be back in Spain in a few days’ time. Have you said anything to him about it?’
For one moment, Rosie thought he meant Liam, before realising Matt was talking about Charles. She shook her head.
‘Well, you have to tell him that you might be his daughter.’
‘Why?’
Because if he’s your dad, Rosie, he might want to know. Because you deserve to know who your real father is. Because you must have a million questions about how he and your mum got together and why they parted.
Please say something like that. Rosie stared at Matt, willing him to say the right thing.
Matt pushed his arms into his I love Málaga T-shirt. ‘Because if he’s as rich as you say he is, you need to make sure you’re in his will. In the meantime, you can get him to gift you this place so you can sell it to a property developer and make some serious money. He owes you that much.’
Cold disappointment flooded through Rosie. Did Matt understand her at all? When she stayed silent, he padded over in his bare feet and put his arms around her. ‘I realise how difficult this all is, Rosie, and I want you to know that I’m here to support you. Always. Oops, I’d better get that.’
Matt pulled his ringing phone from his trouser pocket and glanced at the screen. ‘It’s work. Speak to you in a bit.’
In the doorway, he paused to blow her a kiss before wandering along the landing and padding down the stairs.
Rosie pulled her dressing gown more tightly around her and drew her feet up onto the wide window sill. She used to sit here as a child with her fingers in her ears when her mum and dad were arguing downstairs. The man she thought of as her dad.
Rosie blinked to clear the tears that were blurring her view of the sea and the sky. She knew exactly why she was reluctant to say anything to Charles Epping about her suspicions. His appalling reputation in Heaven’s Cove was a part of it, but mostly she was scared – scared that having been rejected by one father at the age of ten she would be rejected by another at almost thirty.
Lots of people lose one father, said the little voice in her head. But two? What would that say about you, Rosie?
CHAPTER 23
Matt stood on the quayside, still as a statue, peering out across the water.
‘Where did you say it was?’ he asked.
‘Over there, on the right.’
‘I can’t see it. Mind you, I can’t see anything much in this weather.’
‘It juts out into the water in a kind of heart shape. That’s why the locals call it Lovers’ Link.’ Rosie stopped pointing. ‘It’s really pretty,’ she added for his benefit, because there was no way Matt could glimpse it through the misty haze hugging the waves. ‘It’s a prime, unspoiled location that would sell for a fortune to a property developer.�
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Matt perked up at that, as Rosie knew he would, and started squinting into the distance, a deep furrow between his eyes.
Damn it. Rosie wanted to show off Heaven’s Cove at its best: quaint whitewashed cottages pretty against a china-blue sky, narrow cobbled lanes filled with happy people in shorts, and excited children with buckets and spades heading for the beach.
Instead, a sea fret was rolling in, the sky was steel grey, and any tourist daft enough to visit the village today looked miserable as sin.
‘Nope, I definitely can’t see it.’ Matt turned to her and shivered. ‘Is it always so dreadfully cold here? No wonder you’ll be so happy to come home.’ He pulled Rosie into a bear hug. ‘Now what else did you want to show me before we head back to the relative warmth of your draughty childhood home?’
‘Maybe the church?’
‘The church?’ She may as well have suggested a visit to a local abattoir from the look on his face.
‘It’s a gorgeous little church: fifteenth century with beautiful stained glass and… buttresses.’
Did it have buttresses? She wasn’t quite sure what a buttress was, but old churches probably had them.
‘That sounds totally riveting, babe.’
Rosie did not appreciate his sarcasm. ‘Come on, it won’t take long, and I can show you where Mum is buried.’
‘All right. The church it is,’ huffed Matt, making Rosie feel that she was using her mother as a bargaining chip.
It really was hopeless trying to get Matt to like Heaven’s Cove, and she wasn’t even sure why she was bothering. She’d moaned about the village often enough, but the last few weeks had opened her eyes to its beauty. What was the old saying: You don’t appreciate what you’ve got until it’s gone? Soon Driftwood House would be gone and she’d be gone from Heaven’s Cove too, with little reason to return.
‘I think my toes have got frostbite,’ whined Matt, stamping his feet on the pale, wide stones of the quay. He didn’t half moan a lot, but Rosie knew when she was beaten.
‘How about we give the church a miss and have a hot chocolate instead? I know a nice little café on the High Street.’
‘Now you’re talking.’ Matt smelled of menthol when he bent to kiss her nose. ‘Lead the way.’
The Heavenly Tea Shop was heaving and Pauline hardly acknowledged them when they stepped inside.
‘Find yourself a table,’ she shouted from the counter, raising her fleshy arm to her hot, red face. ‘If you can.’
‘The whole of Heaven’s Cove is in here,’ moaned Matt, squeezing past a pushchair to sit at a tiny table near the back of the café.
‘Most of the people in here are tourists,’ replied Rosie, disappointed that the table was too far from the window to take advantage of the fab view of the High Street, down to the sea. Though little was visible today because the plate-glass window was opaque with condensation.
Matt picked up the menu. ‘Right, let’s get those hot chocolates down us.’ He glanced across the café. ‘Isn’t that the woman who nabbed me when I first arrived in this godforsaken place?’
‘Where?’
By the time Rosie had swivelled in her seat, Belinda was upon them, crumbs of cake scattered across her ample bosom.
‘What good fortune! I’m so glad I bumped into you and your young man. We’re taking five minutes to have a cup of tea before we start rearranging the village hall, ready for this evening.’
Rosie waved at Jim, who gave her a rueful smile back.
‘Now, Rosie,’ said Belinda, frowning when the child behind her started squealing. ‘I’ve been bursting to find out how it went with the Eppings the other day.’
‘I don’t know for sure, Belinda. They had a look around Driftwood House and then left.’
‘Did they make any decision about the house’s future?’
‘Nothing official, but I’m not very hopeful, to be honest.’
‘That’s a shame. Have you been in touch with them since their visit?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Don’t tell anyone but apparently I was right to suspect they’re not quite as well off as they used to be. Bad business decisions, according to my mole.’ She winced as the child’s squeals reached a crescendo. ‘Frankly, I’m amazed that you’ve been able to establish any sort of rapport with the Eppings. It’s very surprising.’
‘Not really,’ interrupted Matt. ‘Rosie and Charles Epping probably have more in common than you realise.’
Rosie’s foot connected with Matt’s shin under the table. Was he about to spill her secret, to Belinda of all people, in a busy café?
‘Is that right?’ There was a zealous glint in Belinda’s eyes. She licked specks of glazed sugar from her lips. ‘Tell me more.’
‘There’s nothing to tell,’ said Rosie, loudly, giving Matt’s leg another kick for good measure. ‘We have Driftwood House in common but its fate lies in Charles and Cecilia Epping’s hands. It’s lovely to see you, Belinda, but we don’t want to keep you from your work at the village hall.’
Belinda glanced between Rosie and Matt, her eyes narrowing. ‘There is rather a lot to do. I suppose I’d better leave you to your refreshments, but maybe I’ll see you at the dance this evening?’
‘Maybe,’ said Rosie, running her finger down the menu. ‘I think I might go for a cream tea, Matt. What about you?’ She dropped the menu and leaned across the table when Belinda scurried off, back to long-suffering Jim. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Don’t come over all innocent, Matt. You were hinting big time about me and Charles Epping. That’s why I had to get rid of her. Belinda is the biggest gossip in town. If she ever gets the slightest wind of my suspicions, it will blow her mind – and then it will be all round the village in no time.’
‘Would that be so bad?’
‘Of course it would. Everyone would know that… he might be…’ She couldn’t say the words out loud. Not here.
‘Indeed,’ said Matt, smugly, ‘and that would force Charles Epping’s hand, which would be good.’
‘No, not good. Bad, very bad. And what hand would it force? There is no hand because I haven’t spoken to him about it.’
‘Exactly. But if he heard the rumours, he’d have to speak to you about it and confront his past.’
‘Which I’m in no hurry for him to do.’
‘I know, and I don’t understand why when he should make reparation for what he’s done.’
Because I’m frightened of opening yet another can of worms. Because my normal life has become a swirling soup of secrets. Because my mum must have had a good reason to lie to me for so long.
Why couldn’t she say any of that to the man she was supposedly in love with? Rosie sighed. ‘It’s my secret which means it’s mine to keep. Please, Matt.’
He stared at her through the hot fug of the café for a few moments before giving a curt nod and returning to his menu.
One cream tea later and Matt was in a much better mood. He even started humming under his breath when the two of them walked, arm in arm, towards the church.
This is nice, thought Rosie, as the sun finally burned through the mist and lit up the old buildings around her. This was how she’d hoped it might be when Matt had arrived out of the blue – the two of them, together, enjoying time in one another’s company. She had missed him.
‘Thanks again for flying over to support me.’
‘You’re welcome. You know, I—’ Matt paused, distracted by his phone, which had been ringing almost constantly since he’d arrived in Heaven’s Cove. And usually – yep, Rosie glanced at the screen before he answered – the calls were from Carmen.
‘Do you need to answer it? I’m sure Carmen could ask someone else in the office for advice.’
‘I know, babe, but she looks up to me as a mentor.’ He shrugged in an ‘I can’t help being fabulous’ kind of way. ‘And it’s her birthday today so I can’t give her the brush-off.�
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‘Hey, Rosie. Wait up!’
Out of the corner of her eye, Rosie caught a flash of bright pink and spotted Nessa approaching in a fuchsia T-shirt dress, with Lily’s hand grasped in hers.
Matt had seen Nessa too and gestured that he’d take his call elsewhere before retreating into the doorway of Maria’s Rock Shop which, in addition to selling striped sticks of sticky Devon candy, sold every sweet you could feasibly think of.
‘Is that your boyfriend?’ asked Nessa, puffing to a halt in front of Rosie. ‘Very nice.’
‘He won’t be a minute. He’s taking a work call.’
‘Good-looking, flies across the continent to support you and he’s in demand. Sounds like a very sexy combination to me.’
‘Behave! Hey, Lily, how come you’re not on your bike today?’
Rosie grinned at the young girl, who sucked her thumb and eyed her warily.
‘Jake was supposed to be picking her up this morning to take her out for lunch but he’s bailed on me at the last minute so Lily’s disappointed, aren’t you, love? We’re on an outing to Maria’s to cheer her up. There’s no heartache that a pineapple chunk can’t ease, and I speak from experience.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind. Shouldn’t you be at work?’
‘Scaggy has given me an actual Saturday off, which is a miracle. He’ll use it against me and make me go in every single summer Sunday, but whatever. I had a pampering day planned, to get ready for the dance tonight, but Lily can help me get myself tarted up. We might even fit in a trip to the beach if the sun ever properly comes out. What about you?’
Rosie didn’t reply because she’d just had a thought. If today was Carmen’s birthday, she wasn’t likely to be at work. It was her twenty-fifth – she’d been going on about getting ‘old’ for months – and she’d told anyone who’d listen about the fabulous day she had planned at a water park with friends. Rosie glanced at her boyfriend, who was laughing into his phone, more animated than he’d been all morning.
‘Earth to Rosie! Is anyone there?’
‘Sorry, Nessa. What were you saying?’
