The Little Bed & Breakfast by the Sea

by Jennifer Joyce

There was really no stopping it now, but at least when Willow burst into tears this time, they were the happiest of tears.

  She headed over to the house as soon as she closed up the shop, stopping for a cup of coffee, a Jammie Dodger and a chat with Liam and the other builders. Willow wasn’t sure what brand of coffee they were drinking, but it wasn’t her usual and it wasn’t very pleasant at all, but she forced it down out of politeness.

  ‘You can move back over when you’re ready,’ Liam said as Willow took another Jammie Dodger from the packet. She nibbled the biscuit, hoping it would take away the taste of the vile coffee. ‘And we’ll get cracking on the foundations as soon as we have the materials. In the meantime, we’ll get through some other jobs. Will you be staying in the same room as usual? Just so we can work around it, or maybe temporarily move you to another room if we need to.’

  ‘I was thinking about staying on at the bed and breakfast for the rest of this week and next,’ Willow said. ‘I’m booked in anyway, and I don’t really want to cancel on Mae.’ Plus, it was so damn cosy over at the bed and breakfast! Why not make the most of it while she could? There’d be plenty of time to slum it over at the work site/house in the weeks to come. Plus, she wanted to introduce Ethan to Mae and Melody as she felt they’d become quite friendly over the past few days and she didn’t want to feel as though she’d lived a separate life from Ethan over that time.

  ‘I’ll keep popping over, though,’ she told Liam. ‘Just to keep you on your toes.’

  She’d also bring a decent jar of coffee over.

  Before she left, she had a little tour of the house, refamiliarising herself with the rooms. She’d only been away for a matter of days, but it felt as though so much more time had passed. She stood in her kitchen, imagining the table, filled with the sweet faces of her children while Willow, heavily pregnant with yet another addition, cooked them a nutritious meal. Ethan was there too, helping the older ones with their homework, and a cat lounged on the window seat, soaking up the sun (because in Willow’s fantasies, Ethan was no longer asthmatic and the sun was always shining).

  She moved upstairs, slipping into the room that would one day become the nursery. She pictured the furniture she would lovingly restore, shelves stuffed with books and toys, the sunshine streaming through the window, curtains fluttering in the breeze. This would be a happy room, full of the love that already made Willow ache.

  Climbing back into her van after her tour, she drove along the seafront towards the bed and breakfast. She wound down the windows, taking in a lungful of salty breeze. The tension of the past week seemed to lift with each deep breath, her shoulders feeling less tense, her head lighter. She hadn’t realised quite how much the house blip had taken a toll on her until the pressure was lifted, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or weep again with relief now she knew everything really was going to be okay. Instead, she let out a loud whoop, startling a woman walking along the pavement. She pulled the child she was with closer to her body while glaring at the passing van.

  ‘Sorry!’ Willow called, but it was too late. The van had trundled past and the woman and child had resumed their journey. Willow giggled. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t find scaring the poor woman funny at all, but out it had popped anyway. And she found it such a stress reliever that she didn’t attempt to stop. She laughed and laughed – and must have looked quite manic to anybody passing by – until the bed and breakfast came into view. The street, as usual, was packed with cars, so she continued on, eyes roaming for a free spot. There was a space ahead, but it wasn’t quite big enough to slip the van between the two cars. But maybe just—

  Thud!

  Willow slammed on the brake as she felt the impact from the front of the van. She wasn’t quite sure what had happened but her heart raced uncomfortably and a feeling of dread sat heavy in her stomach. A tingling sensation spread across her fingers as she unbuckled her seatbelt and tugged on the van’s door handle. She jumped down onto the road and dashed to the front of van, a hand muffling the gasp leaving her mouth as she saw the small body slumped on the tarmac.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Mae

  ‘You and Hugo seem close.’

  With Hannah watching CBeebies in the family room, Mae had joined Melody in the living room with a cup of tea while Hannah’s fishfingers and mini potato waffles were cooking under the grill. Pointless was on the television, though neither of them was really paying attention.

  ‘He’s been a great friend,’ Melody said.

  Mae wrapped her hands around her cup and tucked her bare feet underneath herself as she sat on the sofa. ‘Just a friend?’

  Melody nodded. Then shrugged. And then shook her head. ‘I don’t know what’s going on with us, to be honest. When I got here, there was no way I was looking for a relationship. Or a holiday fling. I just wasn’t interested in men.’

  Mae smiled. She knew the feeling.

  ‘But I like Hugo. He comes across as a bit big-headed sometimes, but he’s not really. He can be quite sweet.’

  ‘And he’s pretty cute,’ Mae said. ‘There’s a definite twinkle in his eye.’

  Melody giggled. ‘There was more than a twinkle in his eye today.’ She giggled again before pressing her lips together to stop it in its tracks. ‘I shouldn’t laugh – no matter how funny it was at the time.’

  ‘What happened?’ Mae blew on her tea and settled down to listen to the story of Hugo and his ill-fated juggling act. Melody couldn’t help giggling again as she relived the tale.

  ‘It sounds like he was trying to impress you,’ Mae said once she’d finished. ‘Showing off. Displaying his skills. Sort of.’ She caught Melody’s eye and they both had a giggle.

  ‘I do like him,’ Melody said. ‘But I’m going home in a couple of days.’

  ‘That is tough,’ Mae said. ‘But there’s nothing stopping you making the most of those couple of days.’

  ‘Apart from me,’ Melody said, but she didn’t elaborate and, from the dejected expression on her face, Mae thought it best not to push. Besides, she was hardly one to be doling out relationship advice.

  ‘I’ll miss having you around when you go,’ she said instead. ‘And Willow, when she leaves next week. It’s been nice having some female company.’ Some company at all, if she was honest. She’d enjoyed being able to unwind during the evening, chatting over a glass of wine rather than staring at the television until it was time to curl up in bed, alone.

  ‘Willow’s only up the road,’ Melody pointed out. ‘You should get together. Let your hair down. You never know, you might just meet the man of your dreams.’

  Mae nudged her playfully. ‘Like you met Hugo.’

  Melody groaned. ‘Never ever let him hear you refer to him as that. His head will never fit through a regular-sized doorframe again. He struggles as it is.’

  ‘So he is the man of your dreams,’ Mae teased. She grinned when Melody kept her mouth firmly closed. ‘Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. I won’t tell a soul you’re head over heels in love.’

  Melody picked up a cushion and thwacked a giggling Mae with it. ‘I am not in love with him.’

  ‘Lust then,’ Mae said, and Melody blushed. ‘Ha! I knew it! You fancy the pants off him!’ Mae leaned in and lowered her voice. ‘Have you kissed him?’

  Melody shook her head. ‘Not properly. He kissed me on the night we met, but it was just a peck. And uninvited, I might add.’

  ‘But you want to kiss him.’ Mae took a sip of her tea. ‘You should go for it, while you have the chance.’

  ‘And so should you.’ Melody gave Mae a pointed look that made her squirm.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  Melody gave Mae another light thwack with the cushion. ‘I’m talking about Alfie. He likes you, you like him. Why not give it a go?’

  Usually, Mae would have been ready with her speech about being happy on her own, but today the words were reluctant to emerge. S
he’d been asking herself the same question ever since she’d spotted Mrs Hornchurch and Tom Byrne heading out for their date. And last night, after she’d removed her mask – the red lipstick and eyeliner flick, the pins from her hair, the outfit – and slipped beneath the cool sheets of her bed, she’d wondered for perhaps the first time since Shane left her whether she could really endure being on her own for ever. Whether she could face this empty bed night after night, whether she could watch Hannah grow up knowing that, one day, her daughter would embark on her own path in life and Mae would be left with nothing but fleeting visits and the memories of a happy home. And for the first time, she admitted – to herself, at least – that she wasn’t happy being on her own, that she was lonely, even now, and afraid of the future she’d mapped out for herself.

  ‘Mae?’ Melody gently probed when she failed to answer.

  Mae shrugged, her brow creasing. ‘I’m not really sure what’s stopping me any more.’

  She placed her cup down on the table and headed into the kitchen to turn the fishfingers and waffles, but paused on the threshold when she spotted Hannah, crouched on the floor. She’d dragged one of the chairs over to the cupboard, climbing up so she could take down the box of Frosties, which she was now feeding to the cat.

  ‘How many times, Hannah?’ Mae sighed as she stomped over, plucking the cat, mid chew, from the floor and carrying him to the back door.

  ‘But Mummy,’ Hannah wailed, little legs scuttling across the kitchen. ‘He’s hungry.’

  Mae tucked the cat under one arm so she could unlock the door, but Hannah used the opportunity to fling herself in front of it, blocking the cat’s exit.

  ‘He isn’t our responsibility,’ Mae said as she attempted to manoeuvre Hannah out of the way one-handed. ‘He isn’t our cat. He’ll never be our cat. So please stop feeding him, especially Frosties.’ She sighed as her attempts to move her daughter failed. ‘Come on, Hannah. He can’t stay.’

  ‘No.’ Hannah’s face was scrunched in anger, her eyes dark and challenging. ‘I love him.’

  Not in the mood for another argument, and with the cat starting to fidget, Mae crossed the kitchen and headed out into the hallway, hurrying as a wailing Hannah chased after her. She reached the front door first and plonked the cat down on the path before returning to the kitchen to wash her hands; she couldn’t bear to even think what that cat was riddled with.

  ‘I’ll just go outside and get him,’ Hannah said. Her face had softened, her cheeks now wet with tears. ‘I’ll bring him inside. You can’t stop me.’

  ‘Hannah,’ Mae said, adopting her most stern voice. ‘Don’t you dare.’

  Hannah’s mouth twisted as words fought to emerge. Finally, with her little hands clenched into fists, she settled on three words that made Mae flinch.

  ‘I hate you!’ the little girl roared before stomping out of the room, but instead of storming out of the house in search of the cat, she thumped her way up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

  ‘Trouble with Chilly again?’ Melody asked when she returned to the living room.

  Mae groaned. ‘She’s told you the name she’s given him?’

  Melody nodded. ‘Yep. They’ve got quite a backstory, the two of them. Apparently Chilly is a talking cat, but only Hannah can hear him. He sneaks into the house when you’re asleep and snuggles up with Hannah.’

  Mae flopped down on the sofa. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if that was true. I swear the furry little fleabag has a set of keys. I don’t know how he gets in here sometimes, apart from a certain little lady letting him in. I don’t know why she even likes him so much. He’s hardly the cutest cat, is he?’

  Melody’s eyebrows lowered. ‘I don’t know. He has a certain… charm.’

  ‘If “charm” is a codeword for scruffy-looking and grumpy, then yes.’ Mae picked up her cup and took a sip. ‘I always feel the need to fumigate the place when he’s been around.’

  Melody’s eyebrows were low again. ‘Aww, bless him. I want to take him home myself.’

  Mae’s eyes lit up. ‘Ooh, good idea!’

  Melody lifted her hands up. ‘It’s not happening. Can you imagine taking him on a train?’

  ‘I can imagine waving him off while he trundles off into the sunset,’ Mae said. ‘I often daydream about it.’

  There was a sudden screech outside the house, the sound of tyres against tarmac. Jumping up, Mae plonked her cup down on the table, not noticing the tea sloshing onto the wood in her haste. She flew to the window and pulled the blind aside, craning her neck to see what the commotion was. Outside, just ahead of the house, she saw a white van, its door flung wide open and a form that looked very much like Willow flying out onto the road.

  ‘What is it?’ Melody, with her ankle still strapped up, wasn’t as speedy at getting to the window.

  ‘It’s Willow.’ Mae made a dash for her shoes, which she’d slipped off earlier, shoving her feet into them before careening out into the street.

  ‘Willow!’ she called as she clattered along the pavement. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Oh God.’ Willow turned to her, eyes wide. A hand went to her mouth, her eyes seeming to bulge from their sockets as she turned towards the road. Mae followed her gaze.

  ‘Shit!’ She flung herself down, a hand reaching out to the familiar shape of the cat that had been making a nuisance of itself for weeks. His eyes, usually glowing green and full of scorn, were closed.

  ‘Is he…?’ Willow shuffled closer. ‘Have I…?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Mae placed a cautious hand on the cat’s side, increasing the pressure slightly when he didn’t stir. ‘He isn’t moving, but I think he’s still breathing.’

  She pulled her hand away. It was smeared with black cat hair and blood. There was a keening noise, and when Mae looked up, Willow was kneeling on the road, her head in her hands.

  ‘It’s okay.’ With trembling fingers, Mae unfastened the tiny buttons on her peach cardigan. ‘He’ll be okay.’

  ‘I didn’t see him,’ Willow said. ‘I didn’t see him.’

  ‘I know, darling.’ Mae shrugged off her cardigan and wrapped it around the cat’s body, lifting him gently off the road. There was more blood underneath.

  ‘Oh God. What’s happened?’ Melody asked, limping towards them. She gasped when she saw the bloodied cat.

  ‘Can you ask Mrs Hornchurch to sit with Hannah?’ Mae asked, pulling the cardigan-wrapped cat closer to her body and cradling him.

  ‘Of course.’ Melody placed a hand on Willow’s shoulder and guided her to the pavement.

  ‘There’s food under the grill,’ Mae said. ‘Hannah’s dinner.’

  ‘I’ll sort it, don’t worry.’

  ‘Where are you taking him?’ Willow asked as Mae moved away from the van.

  ‘To Alfie. He’s a vet. Can you hold Chilly while I grab my keys?’ Without waiting for an answer, she pressed the cat into Willow’s arms and ran to the house, hoping Hannah wouldn’t venture out of her bedroom and spot her beloved cat’s blood on her hands. She grabbed her keys and bolted back out into the street as quickly and stealthily as she could.

  Willow insisted on accompanying Mae to the vet, cradling the broken cat while Mae drove. Luckily, Alfie was still at his surgery when they arrived, bursting through the doors and babbling at the receptionist.

  ‘Mae?’ Alfie popped his head out of his door, eyebrows knotted. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘The cat.’ She nudged Willow, who was still clutching Chilly, towards the vet. ‘He’s been hit by a van.’

  Alfie opened his door wide. ‘Come through.’

  They scurried into Alfie’s surgery, placing the cat down gently on the table as instructed. Willow explained what had happened, her face growing more ashen by the second.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, backing away towards the door. ‘I’m going to be sick.’ Throwing a hand to her mouth, she bolted from the room. Mae looked from the poor ca
t to the door, torn about where she should be.

  ‘It’s probably best if you wait out in reception,’ Alfie said as the veterinary nurse joined them. ‘I’ll come out and see you once I’ve assessed the little fella.’

  Mae backed out of the room, her gaze never leaving the poor cat. What had she done? If she hadn’t been so quick to eject him, he wouldn’t have been in the road. He wouldn’t have been hit and possibly about to die.

  How was she going to break the news to Hannah?

  ‘Will he be all right?’ she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as she paused on the threshold.

  Alfie flashed a smile full of sympathy, but not promise. ‘I’ll do my best for him.’

  ‘His name’s Chilly, by the way,’ she said before she slipped from the room and went in search of Willow.

  ‘Alfie will look after him,’ Mae said, not for the first time, as she and Willow sat out in the waiting room. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been sitting there but the sun had started to dip outside and there were no other people – or animals – waiting to be seen. The only other person was the receptionist, who was busy behind her desk.

  ‘I can’t believe I did this to him,’ Willow said, not for the first time. When Mae had found her, she’d been kneeling on the floor in front of the loo, her face grey and clammy. Mae had gathered her in her arms and Willow had promptly burst into tears.

  ‘It was an accident.’

  ‘I still hit him.’ Willow rose from her seat and wandered over to the noticeboard full of posters for flea and worming treatment, thank you cards from the owners of past patients, and notices about payment methods.

  ‘He’ll be okay.’ Mae nodded, over and over again, hoping her words were true, otherwise she’d have to break her little girl’s heart. Hannah didn’t know about the cat yet; Mae had phoned to update Melody and Mrs Hornchurch a while ago, and they’d told Hannah that Mae had popped out to Nanny’s. Mrs Hornchurch had allowed Hannah to eat her dinner in the family room in front of the television, so Hannah was more than happy with the situation.

  ‘Willow, sweetheart, come and sit down.’ Mae held out a hand, but Willow didn’t take it and instead wandered towards the door, peering through the glass panel. She turned abruptly when the door to Alfie’s surgery opened.