Melody nodded as she picked up her cup of tea, though she didn’t commit verbally. She didn’t want to appear rude, but she really was pushed for time and had a lot of work to do. She drank her tea quickly and then she, too, was on her way, her camera around her neck at the ready. The sun wasn’t quite as intense now the afternoon was pushing on, but it was still hot as she made her way towards the cliffs. She found the path easily and followed it to the top, gulping down water due to the heat and steepness, until she reached the top.
The clifftop was covered in a carpet of grass, thistles and wild flowers, with a path worn through to the cliff’s edge. As predicted, the view from was amazing as she looked down onto the beach and the sea, with its frothy waves lolling towards the sand. The stretch of sand wasn’t as busy now, but there were still plenty of families making the most of the good weather. She couldn’t see the donkeys from earlier, but took a few shots of the beach, capturing the pier in the distance, before turning her attention to the town, snapping the rooftops, clusters of trees and cobbled streets. Once she felt she’d caught the essence of Clifton-on-Sea on a sunny late afternoon, she wandered to a bench set a safe distance from the cliff’s edge and flicked through the photos, deleting any obvious duds before moving on to the next. There were some pretty decent shots already, but Melody knew she’d have to return to the clifftop to see the view at nighttime or before dawn. A shot at sunrise would be incredible and might be just the moment she was hoping to catch.
She’d scrolled back through her photos of Fleetwood a few days earlier, scrutinising the shots as best she could on the small screen of her camera, when a dog’s bark made her look up. The clifftop had been deserted since her arrival but it seemed she now had company.
The bark came again before a small body bounded into view, the small golden ball of fluff hurtling towards her. It barked when it saw her – twice, in quick succession – and picked up speed until it stopped suddenly, plonking itself at her feet and giving a quieter woof of greeting.
‘Hello again.’ Melody reached down to stroke the dog on the head, giggling as he twisted his head so he could lick her hand. She recognised the dog from outside the fish and chip shop earlier, though he’d swapped his red tartan bandana for a bright yellow one. ‘Aren’t you a friendly chap?’
‘He loves the ladies, the old charmer,’ a voice said and, when Melody looked up, she groaned inwardly. It was the bloke from the ice-cream van. The bloke she’d spoken to briefly outside the fish and chip shop. The one who’d caught her talking to a dog. His dog, it transpired, judging by the lead dangling from his fingers. His dirty blond hair had been tied back earlier, but now the longish curls were free and dancing around in the breeze.
‘Don’t fall for it, though. He looks all adorable and sweet now, but wait until you find him with your favourite, expensive trainers in his gob.’ He gave the dog a reproachful look before sitting down on the opposite end of the bench to Melody. ‘Taking photos again? How do you want me?’ He flicked one long leg up onto the bench and leaned back, pouting at her and, though she tried hard not to, Melody heard a giggle escape.
‘You’re not quite what I’m looking for,’ she said.
‘No?’ He righted himself and leaned down to scratch the dog’s ear. ‘What are you looking for?’
‘Just this.’ She swept a hand out to indicate the view. ‘The town. The seaside. The Britishness, I guess.’
‘Got anything good?’ he asked, nodding towards the camera, and she shrugged. ‘Can I see?’
Melody switched the camera off and pulled it closer towards her body. ‘I’d rather you didn’t.’
He gave a lazy, one-shouldered shrug and leaned back against the bench. ‘Fair enough.’
‘It’s just…’ She frowned, wondering why she was explaining herself to this stranger who was managing to get on her nerves despite doing very little to justify it. ‘I don’t really show my photos to people.’
‘Blimey, what kind of photos do you have on there?’ He grinned at her, still lounging against the back of the bench. ‘Now I’m even more intrigued.’
‘Get stuffed.’
‘Hey, I was only kidding,’ he said as Melody rose from the bench. ‘Don’t go. I’ll shut up, I promise. I won’t say another word.’ He mimed zipping his lips and Melody was annoyed further as she felt her lips pull up into a hint of a smile.
‘Sorry, I’m not usually this touchy. It’s just…’ Melody lowered herself back onto the bench, her fingers fiddling with the camera as she tried to find the right words to excuse her grouchiness. ‘My photos are sort of private. Not in that way. I just find it difficult to show people. It’s daft, I know, and I’m working on it, but…’ She shrugged. ‘It isn’t easy.’
She dragged her gaze from her camera to look at her bench companion, but while he was watching her intently, he was true to his word and didn’t open his mouth.
‘Your dog’s very cute,’ she said, blatantly changing the subject. She reached down to stroke him again and he sneaked another doggy kiss onto her hand. ‘What’s his name?’ She scratched behind his ear, but looked up when she received no reply. Her companion raised an eyebrow at her and pointed at his closed mouth.
Crossing her arms, Melody sighed. ‘Are you telling me your lips are still zipped?’ He nodded and Melody rolled her eyes. ‘Fine. You can unzip them now.’
Giving a closed-mouth smile, he reached for the corner of his mouth with a pinched-together thumb and index finger, but instead of sliding the fingers across his mouth, he gave a couple of short tugs before widening his eyes at Melody. He gave a few more tugs before he gave up and threw his hands up into the air.
‘The zip’s stuck, isn’t it?’ Melody asked, suppressing a sigh. He nodded before pointing first at Melody’s hand and then at his mouth. ‘You want me to help?’ He nodded again and so, giving another eye-roll, Melody reached towards the guy’s mouth, feeling like the biggest fool as she made a pincer movement with her finger and thumb. Grabbing her hand, he helped ‘tug’ the zip back across his mouth.
‘Thank you,’ he gasped, slumping against the bench.
‘You’re an idiot,’ Melody said, but she was smiling.
‘You’re not the first to make that observation,’ he said with a grin. ‘Luckily, I’m also thick-skinned.’ He reached down to give the dog some fuss. ‘His name’s Scoop Dog, in case you’re still wondering.’
The giggle erupted without warning and Melody pushed a hand to her mouth to muffle it. ‘Scoop Dog?’
‘Scoop to his friends. He seems to like you, so Scoop it is.’
‘Scoop as in ice-cream scoop?’ Melody asked.
‘We’ve found ourselves a clever one here, boy,’ he told the dog, giving his head a good scratch.
‘Hey.’ Melody folded her arms across her chest. ‘I could always zip you back up, you know.’
‘Sorry.’ He picked the dog up and sat him on his lap, giving his head another scratch. ‘Let’s start again. Meet Scoop, the bravest dog in Clifton-on-Sea, perhaps even the world.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Scoop.’ Melody gave the dog a stroke and received a lick in return. ‘What makes him so brave, other than being seen out in public with a madman?’
‘I’ll ignore that last comment,’ Scoop’s owner said. ‘And launch straight into the story of how Hugo – that’s me – met Scoop Dog.’
Scoop, Melody learned, was a rescue dog who’d been found cowering in a bush, bloody and collarless, five months ago. He’d been savaged so badly by another dog – perhaps more than one – the vet wasn’t sure the poor fella would make it. But after lots and lots of TLC – plus surgery and numerous stitches – Scoop had surprised the vet by making a full recovery.
‘He has a bit of scarring,’ Hugo said, lifting Scoop to show his underside. ‘And his fur is only just starting to grow back on his neck.’ He popped the dog back down and lifted the yellow bandana to show the patchy fur underneath. ‘But other than that, he�
��s on top physical form.’
‘So how did you come to own him?’ Melody asked.
‘The vet’s a mate of mine from the pub,’ Hugo said. ‘Scoop wasn’t tagged and nobody came forward to claim him, so once he was ready to be rehoused, I asked to meet the little guy and that’s how we became buddies.’
‘You are brave,’ Melody told the dog, stroking his golden fur. ‘And lucky to have found a good bloke to look after you.’
‘I thought I was an idiot,’ Hugo said.
Melody shrugged. ‘Against all the odds, you seem to have redeemed yourself.’
Chapter Ten
Willow
Willow had been eighteen when she met Ethan in a bar close to the university where they were both studying. She was in her first year, Ethan in his second, and they’d hit it off immediately, though just as friends. Willow had a boyfriend back home and Ethan was seeing a girl on his course, but even when she split up with Alex, the boyfriend from back home, it was Ethan’s housemate she started seeing, beginning a not-very-serious five-month relationship. Through the relationship and subsequent break-up, Willow and Ethan remained good friends, and the friendship lasted until they went their separate ways after university. It was four or five years later that they met up again after one of the guys from their group of uni mates set up a reunion on Facebook. Willow hadn’t really thought about Ethan all that much, to be honest, but as soon as she saw him again in the arranged bar, she knew they were meant to be together.
It was supposed to be simple from that moment on. Both single this time round, they started dating, fell in love and got married. But fairy tales were for children’s books, and real life didn’t have a guaranteed happy ending. Willow was painfully aware of this fact as she looked up at her poor, scaffold-clad house, its fate unknown. They’d had such high hopes when they’d bought the house, when they’d moved their essential possessions into the little room at the back, the one requiring the least work that would become their living and sleeping quarters during the renovation. The little room Willow couldn’t wait to decorate and fill with furniture she’d lovingly upcycled.
But now?
Maybe we shouldn’t have bought this house. We should have thought about it more. Thought about us, our future.
Willow didn’t know what was in their future now. She’d been so sure, naive perhaps, but she’d assumed their wedding day was the start of the life they both wanted, this house the setting, the anchor, a place to fill with beautiful memories.
At the moment, we don’t even know what’s in the future for us.
Pushing Ethan’s words from her mind, Willow pulled away from the house, moving away from the dream home that was turning into a nightmare, and drove towards the harbour, where the new owners of the Monopoly table lived.
The shop had been pretty quiet for the rest of the afternoon, so Willow had managed to finish off her repurposed jam jars, though she’d really wanted to get stuck into the chest of drawers she was planning to update, as sanding it down would have been a great stress reliever. However, she couldn’t commit to any of the bigger jobs without Gary around to keep an eye on the shop. She’d also used the quiet time to scour the local newspaper for any houses – or even single rooms – up for a short-term lease in the next couple of weeks but hadn’t had any luck. She’d keep looking – she had little choice as she couldn’t stay at the bed and breakfast long-term. She’d been lucky to secure the room for a couple of weeks in the first place.
Once she’d closed up at the end of the day, she’d loaded the Monopoly table and chairs into the van with the reluctant help of the bloke from across the road (who’d complained about missing his gaming time non-stop, right up until the moment Willow handed over a fiver for his help). She’d taken a massive detour to catch a glimpse of the house, desperate to cling on to a tiny shred of hope, to feel the same elation as when they’d bought the property. Instead, she’d been left feeling lost, confused and slightly sick.
The family were delighted with their new purchase and the children set up a game of Kerplunk as soon as the table was set down in the playroom. A smile twitched at Willow’s mouth as she watched them thread the straws through the holes, little tongues poking out from their lips in concentration, the smile spreading slowly across her face until her cheeks started to ache.
‘I think they approve,’ the mum said, also smiling as she watched her children. ‘Thank you so much.’
Willow cleared her throat and nodded, already backing out of the room. ‘It was a pleasure. I hope you have lots of fun with it.’
Saying goodbye to the family, Willow hopped back into the van and headed to the bed and breakfast. She usually kept the van near the shop, preferring to walk to and from work, but she was tired after a day of running around, and the thought of trekking through town didn’t fill her with any sort of enthusiasm. She’d go back to the B&B, enjoy a soak in the bath, phone Ethan and then have an early night. She yawned at the thought of crawling into the sumptuous bed at Mae’s place, at snuggling beneath the smooth sheets and sinking into the soft pillows.
Mae was in the kitchen, singing quietly to the radio as she stirred a pan of something delicious-smelling on the stove, when Willow arrived back at the bed and breakfast. Willow’s stomach growled at the hint of food and she suddenly realised she was ravenous. When was the last time she’d eaten? She’d had a pastry that morning during her walk to work, but had she eaten since? She thought back over the day and realised she hadn’t, so it was no wonder her stomach was protesting.
‘Oh, hello.’ Mae stopped stirring and placed a hand on her chest. ‘I didn’t hear you come in.’
‘Sorry, didn’t mean to make you jump,’ Willow said. ‘I was just wondering if it was okay to commandeer the bathroom? I could do with a soak after the stressful day I’ve had. I won’t hog it for too long, I promise.’
‘Of course,’ Mae said. ‘Would you like to join us for dinner first? It’ll be ready in a few minutes.’
‘That’s really kind, but I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.’ Willow ignored her stomach as it roared in protest.
‘It’s no trouble at all. It’s only spaghetti Bolognese and I always end up making way too much. I don’t know how it happens: I put the right amount of spaghetti in the pan, yet enough comes out to feed Italy.’ She shrugged and picked up the spoon to give the sauce another stir. ‘It’ll be nice to have some adult company, actually. That’s if you don’t mind eating with me and Hannah. I must warn you – she can be a bit of a chatterbox at times.’
‘I wouldn’t mind at all. It sounds lovely.’
‘Then sit down and relax.’ Mae indicated the table. ‘Shall I open a bottle?’ She grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack integrated into the kitchen units and held it up.
Willow waved her hands in front of her. ‘Not for me, thanks. Red wine always gives me a terrible headache.’
‘I can open white instead,’ Mae said, already slotting the red back into place.
‘I’m fine with water, really.’ Willow sat down at the table. ‘You go ahead, though. Don’t let me spoil your evening.’
‘I’m probably better sticking to water too, actually.’ Instead of reaching for the bottle of white, Mae moved across the kitchen and grabbed three plates from a cupboard. ‘A hangover with a child who seems to think jumping on your bed before dawn is acceptable isn’t such a good idea.’
‘No, I’d imagine not.’
‘She’s great, though,’ Mae said, opening a drawer and grabbing three sets of cutlery. ‘Drives me up the wall sometimes, but I wouldn’t be without her.’ She placed the cutlery on top of the plates and carried them over to the table.
‘Let me do that,’ Willow said, rising from her seat. She took the plates and cutlery and set them out on the table while Mae grabbed glasses and filled them with water, still chatting away.
‘I never really thought about having kids before Hannah came along. I was happy being free to
go out there and do what I wanted, when I wanted. I suppose I thought I’d have a family one day, just so far into the future I didn’t have to think about it. I never thought for one minute I’d end up having a baby, on my own, at twenty-six.’
‘So Hannah’s dad isn’t around?’ Willow asked and Mae shook her head.
‘I haven’t heard from him since I broke the news I was pregnant.’
‘What a tosser,’ Willow said. She didn’t know the man, but she despised him immediately. How dare he leave Mae – or any woman for that matter – to shoulder sole responsibility for a child he helped to create. And what sort of scumbag abandons their child?
‘I’m probably better off without him,’ Mae said as she added the glasses of water to the table. ‘But it isn’t fair on Hannah. She doesn’t really understand why some of her friends live with their dad and she doesn’t.’
‘You’re doing a great job, though.’ Willow didn’t really know Mae, but she seemed to have her life sorted. Her house was immaculate, her little girl was delightful, judging from the brief encounter they’d had earlier, and Mae herself was so poised and polished.
‘I have a great support network,’ Mae said as she returned to the stove. ‘My mum is fantastic. I don’t know what I’d do without her, to be honest. She’s a school librarian, so luckily she can look after Hannah for me during the school holidays and at weekends. And then there are Hannah’s godparents, who are amazing, and Mrs Hornchurch from next door is happy to step in and help in an emergency. I’m so lucky to have them.’
Mae did sound lucky, despite her useless ex. For a moment, Willow imagined what it would be like switching places. Would she be happier in Mae’s shoes? Her slingbacks didn’t look particularly comfy, but then Willow was more used to ballet pumps and trainers. She wasn’t glamorous like Mae – the lovely dress she was wearing now would be ruined after a day in Willow’s workroom – but there were aspects of Mae’s life that Willow was sure would be a perfect fit.
The doorbell ringing nudged her out of her musings. Mae headed for the door while Willow took a sip of her water. She didn’t really want to switch lives with Mae, but sometimes the grass did seem lush and green on the other side, especially when you were feeling low.
The Little Bed & Breakfast by the Sea Page 7
