by Hannah Ellis
Chapter 6
For a while, she was caught up in a surge of adrenalin. She couldn’t believe she was actually going alone. Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, she hummed along to songs on the radio. It definitely felt like an adventure and she grinned from ear to ear as excitement pulsed through her.
When traffic slowed to a stop on the M5 it became less exciting. On the radio, she heard too late about the tailback caused by an accident. After ten minutes, the traffic began to crawl and an hour later she passed the flashing lights of emergency vehicles and a wrecked transit van. She picked up speed and the journey continued at a decent pace. Then the rain began and everything slowed again. When she stopped at a service station three hours after her journey had started, she was only halfway there. Sipping a coffee in the café, she got out her phone to call Phil.
“You made it?” he asked.
“No. Traffic’s been awful.”
“Driving down on a Friday afternoon was probably a bad idea,” he said.
Bloody know-it-all. “There was an accident,” she said defensively. “And now it’s pouring. I’ve just stopped for diesel and a coffee.”
“Good idea. I’m glad you decided to go anyway. I don’t need to feel so guilty now!”
“You should still feel guilty,” she said. “So far I’m having a terrible time.”
“You’ll be fine when you get there. You’ll enjoy it.”
“Maybe. Anyway, how are you getting on?”
“I’m snowed under,” he said. “Everything’s in a bit of a mess.”
She should probably have been more sympathetic, but it was difficult. The ridiculously long drive would have been much easier if she weren’t alone. The decision to go by herself already seemed like a bad one, but she was trying her best to stay positive. Phil was right: when she got to the cottage she’d feel much better. She’d be able to relax then.
“I’m sure you’ll sort it all out,” she said. “I’ll leave you to get on.”
“Send me a message when you get there.”
“Will do,” she said, then ended the call feeling unreasonably angry with him. Maybe it wasn’t unreasonable. Maybe he was a weasel like Karen said. She sighed. She knew she shouldn’t listen to Karen when it came to men. Besides, she wasn’t angry with Phil; she was angry that her excitement at her trip had only lasted half an hour and then fizzled into frustration at a terrible journey. Hopefully her journey wasn’t indicative of the week to come.
Getting back in the car was unappealing, so she ambled round the little shop in the service station while she psyched herself up. It was only when she started the engine that hunger niggled at her. She should have eaten while she’d stopped, but there were limited options in the service station. She’d go a bit further and stop again, she decided.
Her eyes grew heavier the closer to Hope Cove she got, and her body was stiff and aching from sitting for too long. By the time she passed Exeter, it was dark. The unfamiliar roads were hard to navigate. The expected four-hour drive had taken over seven.
She didn’t find anywhere to stop for food, but her mood lifted when she finally reached Hope Cove. She was exhausted and hungry, but the dimly lit village had a charm about it that made her feel hopeful. Hope Cove, indeed.
The village streets were narrow and dotted with bright white cottages with neatly thatched roofs. When she reached the bay she stopped the car and gazed out. A full moon hung over the water, and the sea sparkled beautifully in its reflected glow. It was quite a sight. She couldn’t wait to see it in daylight.
Setting off again, she soon found the little road she was looking for. She crawled along, searching for the cottage. Streetlights were few and far between. When she finally spotted her accommodation for the week it was eerie and foreboding: a cottage standing alone in the darkness. Arriving so late at night wasn’t ideal.
The owner had told her the place would be unlocked and the key on the kitchen table. She’d thought it quaint and romantic at the time but she hadn’t expected to arrive alone at night, and it suddenly felt dangerous and irresponsible. Anyone could be lying in wait for her.
Ignoring the niggling worries, she marched confidently up to the front door. It was locked. Panic seeped slowly through her. She was tired and irritable and this had been an awful idea. She could be at home now in her lovely warm bed, having eaten a delicious meal.
Finally, she switched on the torch on her mobile and ventured round the back of the house. Thankfully, the back door was open and the key on the table as expected. She must have misunderstood the owner’s instructions.
Poking her head into the living room, she saw that everything seemed to be in order. It was nicer than she’d expected, actually. There was a fireplace and the room was furnished with classic oak furniture. She couldn’t believe her luck when she found a few supplies in the fridge. While she sat at the kitchen table and devoured the pre-packaged chicken sandwich, she made a mental note to email the owners and thank them for their attention to detail. It’s the little things that make a big difference, she thought. With some food inside her, she felt much more positive.
After sending a quick message to Phil to say she’d arrived safely, she went up to bed, exhausted after the gruelling journey. She was just dropping off when something startled her. A noise somewhere. She wasn’t sure what it was but listened intently, waiting for it to come again.
Old houses always made noises, she told herself, trying to stop her imagination running away from her. It unsettled her, however, and it took her a while to fall asleep.
Chapter 7
When she woke, she was vaguely aware of the sound of running water. Her sleep-fogged brain told her she must have left a tap on the previous evening. The bed was wonderfully big and comfy, and she didn’t want to leave its warmth, but eventually the sound of the water roused her enough to get up.
Weirdly, the bathroom was all steamed up, and the shower was running. She couldn’t have left the shower on, she thought; she hadn’t been near it. When she pulled the shower curtain back, she gasped at the sight of a naked man. Her eyes went wide and for a moment she stood staring at him.
“What’s going on?” he shouted, whipping the shower curtain back into place. Elizabeth retreated, unable to find appropriate words. Why was there a man in the house? A naked man. Very naked.
The water stopped and his toned forearm reached for a towel. He glared at her as he stepped out of the shower. “Why are you in my house? Who are you?”
“I’m—” She stopped. He was still fumbling with the towel, which didn’t quite cover him. “Sorry,” she said, her gaze darting to the safety of the ceiling. “I rented the cottage for a week. I arrived last night. Who are you?”
“I’m Max,” he said. “The cottage isn’t for rent. Have you been here all night?”
“Yes.” She squinted until she’d checked his towel was safely in place. “Sorry about that,” she said, pointing vaguely at his towel area and then blushing. “I’ve got an email confirming that I’ve rented the cottage.”
“I don’t think so,” he said, his voice calm but adamant.
“I have. I’ll show you.” She rushed to the bedroom to get her phone and opened the email. “See,” she said, holding the phone out. He reached for it and scanned the email. Slowly, his features relaxed. There was laughter in his icy blue eyes when he looked at her. “Well, Elizabeth Beaumont, it seems like you booked into Seaview Cottage for a week.”
“That’s what I told you,” she said, snatching the phone back. “And I know I got the dates right.”
“You’ve got the wrong place.”
“No! I can’t have.”
“This is Seaside Cottage.”
She covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my goodness.”
“Seaview Cottage is next door.”
“But it was unlocked,” she said quickly. “The key was on the table like it was supposed to be.”
“That’s just where I threw it,” he said. “And
Hope Cove isn’t the sort of place where people worry too much about locking doors. Although I might have to rethink that!”
“I am so sorry.” The realisation of what she’d done suddenly hit her with full force. “I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe I slept here and I walked in on you in the shower.” She blushed again. “I’m mortified.”
“No harm done.” His eyes crinkled as he stifled a laugh. “I might put some clothes on now…”
“Yes, of course.” Backing away, she bumped heavily into the wall. Just when she thought she’d reached her limit for embarrassment. “I’ll get my things together.”
She scurried around the bedroom, getting dressed and throwing things back into her suitcase then hurriedly making the bed. On the landing she met Max appearing from another bedroom in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He rubbed his dark blond hair with a towel and then ruffled it into place.
“I’m so sorry,” she said again, feeling as if she might burst into tears through sheer humiliation.
“Really, don’t worry about it.” He took the case from her and carried it downstairs.
Elizabeth followed him. “This probably happens all the time?” she asked hopefully.
“I think it’s a first.” His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Seaview Cottage is set back from the road so it is harder to find.”
“Whose clever idea was it to give them such similar names?” Elizabeth said.
He looked at her for just a moment too long. It made her uncomfortable.
“Come with me,” he said, beckoning for her to follow him.
Hesitantly, she followed him through the kitchen and out into the back garden. It was slightly overgrown but a good size and bordered with a high hedge.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
She followed him to the end of the garden. There was a door in the hedge which she only noticed when they drew near it. It was green and blended right in. Max opened it and stood aside to let her through.
They were on the coastal path. Her shoes crunched on the mix of sand and gravel underfoot. Straight ahead, a few stone steps and an uneven path led the way to a small sandy cove. Beyond, the sea stretched in an almighty and breath-taking display.
“Wow,” she whispered. “That’s…” It wasn’t often that Elizabeth was lost for words, but the sight was so fantastic it was hard to find words to do it justice. “It’s…” She scanned the shore, then inhaled the glorious mix of salt and seaweed that floated on the breeze. There were wild flowers growing beside the path, and their gentle beauty seemed at odds with the fierceness of the sea and the rocks bordering the sandy cove.
Her mouth hung open until she felt Max watching her. “Wow,” she said again, smiling as she gave up on finding anything more meaningful to say.
“Not a bad view, is it?” Max said, his low voice startling her. He was close beside her.
The view had her captivated. “It’s stunning.”
“This path leads into the village,” he said. “There are a few houses along the way, but it’s pretty quiet.”
The salty air filled her lungs and the sound of waves breaking gently on the shore drifted like music. “I feel like I’ve just stepped through to Narnia. It’s magical.”
“It’s the best view in the world,” Max said. “In my opinion.” He moved past her towards the beach and then looked back to the house. “There’s your place,” he said, pointing to a cottage off to the right, partly hidden by trees. “You can see how they got their names.”
“Seaview and Seaside. I suppose they are quite aptly named.” Automatically, she slipped off her shoes and wandered onto the beach. “It’s like something from a fairy tale.” She turned in a circle, taking it all in. It was a beautiful place for a holiday.
They stood in silence for a moment, then Max’s features scrunched into silent laughter. “Should we get you moved, Goldilocks?”
She couldn’t help but laugh.
Chapter 8
They were walking back through the kitchen when the front door burst open and a young man barrelled in. He had the same striking blue eyes as Max and looked about twenty, if that.
“Hi,” he said, grinning at Max. Then his gaze landed on Elizabeth and he frowned in confusion. His eyes darted to the suitcase in the hallway. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you had someone here with you. Gran told me to come and help you out for the weekend. This is awkward.”
“It’s not like that,” Max said, smiling.
“No, no,” Elizabeth chimed in, embarrassed. “I’m not someone. I mean, I am someone, of course. Just not…” She waved a finger between herself and Max, then felt like a complete fool. When had she become such a babbling idiot?
“This is Elizabeth,” Max said confidently. “Elizabeth, this is my nephew, Conor.”
She reached out and shook Conor’s hand, but he still seemed confused.
“Elizabeth’s staying next door,” Max explained. “She got the wrong place.”
“Oh!” Conor said, relieved. “That’s good.”
“Thank you, though,” Max said, slapping Conor lightly on the shoulder, “for assuming I’m cheating on Jessica. Good to know how highly you think of me.”
“Sorry,” Conor said, looking sheepish and raising his eyebrows at Elizabeth.
“I’d better get out of your way,” she said, picking up her suitcase.
“Do you need help?” Max asked as she struggled out with the case.
“No, I’m fine, thanks.” She glanced up and down the road, trying to get her bearings.
Max pointed. “The driveway is just a bit further down.”
“Thanks,” she said. “And I’m sorry again.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He closed the door slowly. “Enjoy your stay.”
The suitcase juddered as she dragged it down the uneven road. She soon found the driveway, clearly marked with a sign for Seaview Cottage. How had she missed that?
She felt disappointed when she got in and had a nose around. There was nothing in particular to complain about. The place was clean and functional, but it lacked the charm of the neighbouring cottage.
After she’d lugged her suitcase upstairs and unpacked a little, she got out her phone and called Phil.
“How’s the cottage?” he asked.
“It’s lovely,” she said, choosing not to bother mentioning the little mix-up. She was embarrassed enough without Phil teasing her. Actually, he probably wouldn’t tease her at all; instead he’d give her a lecture about safety. She didn’t need that either.
“I was thinking,” he said, slowly. “Why don’t I drive down tomorrow for the day?”
“Really?” she asked, surprised. He’d been so consumed by work the last couple of weeks. If he could manage to take a day off, she’d have thought the last thing he’d want to do would be drive to Devon.
“I feel bad that you’re there all alone,” he said. “And I know I’ve not been paying you much attention recently.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “I understand.” And deep down she did understand. Her own job could also be very demanding. That didn’t mean she couldn’t also be annoyed at the situation.
“So shall I drive down for the day?”
“You know it’s about a four-hour drive, if there’s no traffic?”
“You know I love you enough to do it…”
She chuckled. “I know how stressed you get driving!”
There was a pause, and she realised he was only offering to lessen his guilt about working. He expected her to let him off the hook and, honestly, she didn’t want him to make such a trip. “I know what will happen: you’ll arrive in a bad mood, then you’ll be stressed about work and checking your phone every two minutes. And after about an hour you’ll start panicking about how long it’ll take you to get home. And after another hour you’ll leave…”
“But I would do that for you!”
“You’re offering me two hours with a grumpy fiancé?”
“It’s up for grabs.”
“I’ll pass,” she said. “You should stay home and relax.”
“I love you!” he said cheekily.
“Love you too,” she said. “I’m going to go out and explore. I’ll talk to you later.”
She hung up and wandered around the cottage again. It was basic, but the view from the upstairs windows was magical. She could happily sit in the window and watch the sea all day. She did, in fact, lose track of time gazing out for a while, until her stomach started to growl with hunger.
In the kitchen, she opened the fridge. Of course it was empty, but she was reminded of the sandwich she’d eaten at Seaside Cottage the previous evening – Max’s sandwich.
She grinned and picked up her phone again.
“You’ll never guess what happened,” she said after she’d filled Karen in on her decision to go away without Phil. “I walked in on a naked man in the shower this morning.”
“What? What kind of holiday is this? Where are you staying?”
“You won’t believe it,” Elizabeth said. “I got the wrong cottage. I slept in the wrong bloody house all night and then walked in on a very surprised man in the shower this morning!”
“Oh my God.”
“I know. What a start to my week.” Josie was right about it being more of an adventure on your own. That would never have happened if she’d had Phil with her.
“What kind of sight are we talking here? Wrinkly old man or hunky hottie?”
“It wasn’t a terrible sight,” Elizabeth said, flushing at the memory.
“Nice!” Karen said. “I told you you’d have a great time alone. Did you make sweet love and decide to stay with him for a hot holiday fling?”
“No,” Elizabeth said. “Don’t be filthy! I packed my things and left quickly. It was mortifying. I’ve never been so embarrassed.”
“Well, you were the one wondering what you’d do for a week on your own,” Karen said flippantly. “An affair would keep you occupied.”
