Ottercombe Bay, Part 1

by Bella Osborne

  She turned around to see a tall man approaching her, with the streetlamp behind him it was difficult to see. She got ready to lob the toolbox at him if necessary.

  ‘Excuse me, can I help you with those?’ he asked, which wasn’t at all what she was expecting.

  ‘Er, no, thanks,’ she said, wondering what his game was.

  ‘It’s no problem. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.’ Daisy hesitated. ‘It’s okay. I might not be in uniform but I’m a police officer.’

  ‘My dad told me not to get in cars with strange men,’ she said and he laughed.

  His laughter evaporated. ‘But you know me, we went to school together. Played together in the holidays when you came home, Daisy.’

  Something about the way he said her name rang a bell. She tried to get a good look at his face but it was dark. An embarrassing silence followed.

  Daisy quickly scanned her memory for boys from primary school. It was all a haze of oversized uniforms, bad haircuts and playing tig. Something Tamsyn had said glued the puzzle pieces together in her mind.

  ‘Jason,’ she almost shouted it as recognition struck. ‘Of course. I’m sorry. You’ve got a lot taller since I last saw you.’ Jason had been one of those boys who was picked on by the others. If she remembered correctly, Max had looked out for him when they were younger.

  Jason looked happy with her response as he took the heavy boxes from her with annoyingly little effort but then he hadn’t been carrying them for half a mile. ‘It’s lovely to see you again, Daisy. I hear you’re staying for a while.’

  ‘Bloody hell, the grapevine here spreads faster than a Kim Kardashian selfie.’ This was one of the major downsides of a close-knit community. ‘And no, I’m afraid I’m not staying.’ She followed him to the car and waited whilst he put the boxes in the boot.

  ‘Oh,’ Jason looked downhearted. The short trip was conducted in relative silence, just the odd clink coming from the toolbox in the boot. Jason pulled up outside the cottage and got out. Daisy got the feeling she was upsetting a lot of people tonight.

  She met him at the boot of the car. ‘I’ll take the toolbox back to Tamsyn’s dad.’

  ‘I’ll take this one inside then,’ he said, picking up the railway box and having a sneaky peek inside.

  ‘Feel free to have a look through if you’re interested. And thanks for the lift, I do appreciate it, Jason.’ She hauled out the toolbox and headed next door.

  After saying her thank-yous and politely refusing their offer to come inside three times Daisy finally escaped Tamsyn’s parents. She could see Jason and Aunt Coral were standing just inside the porch chatting. Daisy tugged on the door, it swung open and Bugsy made a break for freedom. She tried to make a grab for his collar but what he lacked in aerodynamics he made up for in speed as he dodged her like a professional rugby player and disappeared into the darkness.

  ‘Bugsy!’ shouted Aunt Coral as she lurched past Jason. Daisy wasn’t sure which way Aunt Coral was going to go and in the split second she had to make a decision. She made the right one so they didn’t collide but Daisy managed to leave her foot jutting out slightly. Aunt Coral was moving at speed, she caught her toe on Daisy’s foot and fell spectacularly through the open doorway, landing with a thud.

  ‘Are you all right?’ asked Daisy, crouching down at her side. Jason joined her and together they helped her up.

  ‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she said brushing herself down. ‘Where did he go?’ she asked, looking about frantically. Aunt Coral stepped forward and seemed to stumble. ‘Ow, my ankle!’

  Jason put an arm around her and guided her back inside. ‘Let’s get you sat down and we can have a look at your ankle. I’m trained in first aid.’

  ‘But we need to catch Bugsy,’ said Aunt Coral hobbling inside.

  Jason looked at Daisy and there was a slight pause before she realised she needed to do something. ‘Yes, of course. I’ll go look for him.’

  ‘Thanks, love,’ called back Aunt Coral.

  It was late and it was dark. Not just average town or city dark, no this was middle of nowhere, no light pollution, Ottercombe Bay dark. Only the main streets had lighting, so in Trow Lane it was blacker than the inside of the old railway building.

  Daisy wasn’t exactly sure what she was meant to do. Standing there in the dark on her own she felt a complete idiot. ‘Bugsy,’ she called half-heartedly. It was unlikely he was going to come back because she’d called him, they hadn’t exactly warmed to each other. She stopped and listened. She could hear something. It could’ve been the sound of small paws on gravel or perhaps a bird in the hedge. Daisy wandered off into the night but it was pretty pointless looking for a small black dog in almost total darkness.

  She decided to walk to the end of the lane and back again to at least show willing. Every few steps she called his name feeling like a total idiot. He hardly knew her so he wasn’t likely to come running. When she reached the end of the lane she took a moment to look out over the few rows of houses to the sea beyond. The moon was casting its jewels on the surface of the water and painting a halo over the cottages. Daisy had to admit it was a sight to catch you unawares. She watched the jewels sparkle for a while until a faint bark drew her attention away. When she got back to the cottage there was still no sign of the dog.

  Inside Jason had a first-aid box out, presumably from the car, and had done a good job of bandaging up Aunt Coral’s ankle, which was now resting on a cushion on the coffee table.

  ‘Did you find him?’ asked Aunt Coral, looking hopefully at Daisy.

  ‘Sorry, it’s hard to see out there.’ Daisy was just about to flop onto the sofa when Aunt Coral replied.

  ‘Take the torch from the kitchen then. He likes to go up onto the headland so take care.’

  ‘The headland? That’s gotta be over a mile away.’

  Aunt Coral frowned. ‘It’s his usual walk. He’s probably just gone off on the route he’s used to.’

  ‘In which case he should come back then,’ said Daisy, hoping this was her get-out clause, but Aunt Coral’s pleading look said different as did Jason’s slight headshake of disapproval.

  ‘Right, I’ll walk up to the headland and look for him. I’ll stop for chips on the way back, do you want anything?’ She hadn’t eaten so at least it wouldn’t be a completely wasted trip.

  ‘No thanks, I’ll be getting off,’ said Jason. ‘Doctors tomorrow if that’s still swollen, Coral, okay?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Jason.’

  ‘Bye then,’ said Jason to Daisy, somewhat frostily.

  ‘Thanks again for the lift,’ she said and she went to find the torch.

  An hour and a half later she was walking back eating her chips having not seen any sign of the dog. She had had a proper look for him and even called his name numerous times up on the headland but it had been met with silence. As she munched her way back along the lane she thought she heard something. She stopped and for a second the sound continued and then stopped. She ate another chip, walked two steps forward and then stopped and the sound repeated and then halted moments after she did. There was someone behind her. She spun round quickly with the torch but there was no one there – until she shone the torch on the ground. A couple of feet behind her was Bugsy. He blinked when the torchlight shone in his eyes.

  ‘Great, how long have you been following me?’

  Bugsy ignored her, stuck his squat nose in the air and strutted up to her, sat down and looked hopefully at the last chip. Using the chip as bait Daisy coaxed him back to the cottage, threw it in the porch and he thankfully followed it, devouring it quickly while Daisy pulled the door closed and heaved a huge sigh of relief.

  ‘I found him,’ she called feeling quite pleased with herself. That was one point she could chalk up to herself in the Bugsy versus Daisy battle and it felt good.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning Aunt Coral was still thrilled to have Bugsy back and was fussing over him, the fact that his escape had caused her ankle stra
in seemed not to have registered with her. Daisy, on the other hand, was well aware and was watching the dog closely. He wasn’t as daft as he looked, and to her mind he did look daft. The pug was just about as far removed from the origins of the wolf as any dog breed could possibly be. He reminded her of a cork piglet she’d made at school, which still sat on the kitchen windowsill. The squashed face and the curly tail made it a good likeness. The only difference was the piglet was painted pink and had tiny eyes whereas Bugsy was completely black with disproportionally huge eyes like two eight balls stuck in his face. He gave her a smug look when Aunt Coral gave him another small piece of bacon.

  Yeah, I’ve got the measure of you, thought Daisy, she wasn’t going to be outsmarted by a tiny bug-eyed dog.

  ‘Jason says you can get some money for the railway memorabilia you brought home. He knows some specialist who can get you the best price, if that’s what you want.’

  Daisy munched on her toast. ‘Sounds good. The place is just a shell. I don’t know what Reg expected me to do with it.’

  ‘You’ve got a whole year to work that out; you don’t need to trouble yourself right now. And of course you’re welcome to stay with me. I’d be glad of the company but if you wanted to get your own place I’d understand.’ Coral patted her hand.

  ‘Thanks.’ Daisy knew now probably wasn’t a good juncture to explain her imminent departure. She couldn’t walk out now Aunt Coral was laid up with her ankle. Daisy was lots of things but she wasn’t unkind or callous. She was still set on leaving but she couldn’t dispel the mixed feelings she seemed to be experiencing. Daisy blamed it on Great Uncle Reg’s letter and what Tamsyn had said about her mother – both were playing on her mind. She’d stay for just a couple more days, which would give Aunt Coral’s ankle a chance to recover and her an opportunity to speak to Tamsyn’s mum, Min, and lay that particular ghost to rest, then she could leave.

  Seeing as she was here a bit longer than planned she decided she’d call it a holiday. Holidays were what people came to Ottercombe Bay for. She would write it off as a vacation and then at the end she would depart just like all the other tourists. She took a deep breath; she knew leaving also meant walking away from a share of Reg’s money, and money was something she was lacking. But, no, her mind was made up. No amount of cash was worth being trapped for, especially not for a whole year. Daisy finished her toast, ignoring the dog’s whiny pleas for her to share.

  Daisy’s bedroom was currently doing a good impression of a bombsite. She amazed herself at how quickly she could turn an ordered space into a chaotic jumble – perhaps it was a skill. She didn’t know anyone else as talented at being untidy as she was. She only had the one rucksack but it was enormous and when she’d left Canterbury she’d had to ram everything in to get it all to fit. She had since had to pull everything out to get to the things at the bottom and now the contents were strewn about the room. Luckily Aunt Coral wasn’t the nosey sort, so Daisy could shut the door and know it would be fine. Well, nobody was perfect after all.

  It was mid-afternoon when Daisy found herself lying on the pebble part of the beach on a rather thin towel while she waited for Tamsyn to finish her shift at the beach café. Every summer the council tipped a few tons of sand onto the top half of the bay making it perfect for the holiday crowd, but unless you were there super early you got relegated to the pebbles further down. Despite her bumpy bed she was enjoying herself. The sun was warming her body gently whilst she listened to the sound of the sea washing the shore and parents arguing with small children over sun cream and ice-lollies.

  On a summer’s day Ottercombe Bay was a hive of activity, all the rental properties would be full and all the second homers would be maximising their investment, and days like this were ideal for making you feel good about yourself and your decisions. A couple of days of sun and relaxation was going to do Daisy good. She hadn’t had a proper break for months, let alone the chance of a holiday so an opportunity to do nothing was one not to be missed because soon she would be back on the road hunting down her next job.

  ‘You’ll get a well weird tan line if you leave your necklace on,’ said a voice above her, throwing her into shadow.

  ‘If you stand there, Tams, I’ll get no tan at all.’ Daisy instinctively put her hand to her locket.

  Daisy shuffled over to make room on the towel and Tamsyn bunched up her long flowery skirt and sat down. Daisy gave her the abridged version of the previous evening’s events.

  ‘How’s Coral now?’ asked Tamsyn.

  ‘Cheesed off mainly, I think. The painkillers are working but it’s a bad sprain. She’ll be hobbling about for a while.’

  ‘I’m sorry about her ankle but if it means you’re staying, yay.’ Tamsyn clapped her hands together.

  Daisy hauled herself up onto an elbow. ‘It’s only temporary while Aunt Coral recovers.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Tamsyn despondently. She looked about her. ‘You could’ve brought Bugsy to the beach. He loves it down here.’

  Daisy pulled an unimpressed face. She had forgotten about walking the dog, although he’d probably had enough exercise last night to last him for a while. ‘He doesn’t like me much,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, don’t be silly. Bugsy is totally adorable isn’t he?’

  Daisy’s expression didn’t change. ‘He’s totally untrainable.’

  ‘But he’s the cutest thing imaginable,’ said Tamsyn.

  ‘He’s ugly.’ Daisy’s face was full of scorn.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oh come on. He looks like he spends every day smacking himself in the face with a frying pan. And those bulbous eyes – they’re way too big for his head.’

  Tamsyn was shaking her head. ‘I can’t believe you’re saying that. He has gorgeous eyes and I think he’s beautiful. Maybe it’s your attitude he doesn’t like.’

  Daisy took a sharp intake of breath. ‘My attitude? That dog is 99 per cent attitude.’ And one per cent pig she thought to herself as she flopped back onto the towel and was reminded it was lying on a bed of stones; but she wasn’t going to let on to her discomfort.

  ‘Well, Reg loved him and Reg loved you. It kind of makes you related,’ said Tamsyn, settling herself down.

  Daisy shot bolt upright. ‘No, it doesn’t.’ She shook her head at the ridiculous suggestion. ‘I am not related to a bloody pug.’

  ‘I think you’re in denial,’ said Tamsyn shutting her eyes.

  Daisy opened her mouth to argue further but realising it was pointless she shook her head and lay back down, a little more gently this time.

  ‘I hear you met Jason last night,’ said Tamsyn.

  ‘Is there some sort of live feed or webcam I don’t know about? Or am I actually part of a TV programme like The Truman Show – The Daisy Wickens Show?’ She was amazed how everyone seemed to know what was going on almost before it had happened. This was the problem with small towns. To the untrained eye, Ottercombe Bay probably seemed an average-sized town but take out all the holiday lets, all the camp sites, the second homers and day trippers and the core of locals was actually a lot smaller. It was most definitely a village and a peculiar one at that.

  ‘No, silly,’ giggled Tamsyn. ‘There’s a hole in the wall between our cottages.’

  ‘What?’ Daisy was outraged and found she was covering her precious areas with her hands.

  ‘Only kidding, but you should have seen your face. No, Jason told me he’d seen you.’

  Daisy heaved a sigh of relief. It wouldn’t have surprised her if there were a hole in the wall. She gave up on lying down and sat up. ‘Are you and Jason together?’

  Tamsyn gave a tinny laugh. ‘Noooo, he’s not my type. Too geeky.’

  Daisy scrunched her face up. Given Tamsyn’s interesting dress sense and love of fantasy novels she thought perhaps she shouldn’t be throwing stones at someone else’s glass house. ‘Okay, who would be your type?’

  Tamsyn’s gaze drifted off to sea. Daisy was moments away from waving a hand i
n front of her face when she eventually spoke. ‘I like my men beefy and broad shouldered. Intelligent but not geeky. Romantic, kind and caring, like Flynn Rider.’

  ‘The cartoon character?’ queried Daisy, although she wasn’t sure why this should be a surprise to her.

  ‘Yes, he’s perfect and Tangled is my favourite film ever.’

  ‘Okay, anything else?’

  ‘Someone who likes the same things I do, like fantasy novels, vintage, dragons, crafting, pineapples and buttons. And they have to be an animal lover.’ She shot Daisy a withering look.

  ‘That’s some list. You found anyone who fits your criteria?’

  ‘Not yet. How about you?’

  Daisy felt uncomfortable, she wasn’t big on sharing at the best of times. ‘Nope, no one.’

  ‘Oh, come on, there must have been someone in the last zillion years. Don’t fob me off. All those trips abroad to exotic destinations full of hotties, there must have been a few.’

  Daisy admired Tamsyn’s tenacity. ‘There was one guy.’

  ‘Only one?’ Tamsyn tilted her head. ‘You guard your heart like a dragon guards its hoard.’

  Daisy was momentarily stunned by Tamsyn’s profound insight. ‘Anyway … I meant only one serious one. His name was Guillaume.’

  ‘Gee-om?’ mimicked Tamsyn with a titter. ‘How do you spell it?’

  ‘Trust me that won’t help you. He was very French, olive skinned and utterly gorgeous.’

  Tamsyn bore the expression of the perpetually bewildered. ‘Was his skin like black or green olives?’

  ‘Neither,’ said Daisy with a chuckle. ‘It’s a warm tone, like having a good tan.’

  ‘Okay.’ Tamsyn still looked perplexed but she settled down for the story anyway. ‘What went wrong?’

  ‘We rowed a lot. Mainly about money. He was a huge risk taker. We had a good thing going in France and we lost the lot because of his stupid get-rich-quick schemes.’ Daisy’s voice was tinged with temper.