by Hannah Ellis
Elizabeth was used to Karen’s particular brand of humour. “I was thinking of something that wasn’t completely immoral!”
“Fine,” Karen said. “Go back to your original plan of working while you’re away. I think it’s pathetic, but—”
“I’m not going to do any work,” Elizabeth interrupted. “That’s why I ended up here. I got your email and decided I would actually have a complete break from work. But I wasn’t doing well at home so I thought I’d distract myself with the trip to Devon.”
“You still won’t manage it,” Karen said. “As soon as you hang up, you’ll be getting your laptop out.”
“I didn’t bring my laptop,” Elizabeth said smugly.
“Bloody hell! Well, your phone then. There’s no way you won’t do any work all week. You’re a workaholic, you know.”
“Maybe. Which is why I’m going cold turkey.”
“I’ll give you a day,” Karen said.
“I’ll manage a week. You’ll see.”
Chapter 9
The walk to Hope Cove was beautiful. Elizabeth took the coastal path and was in a constant state of awe at the view. After ten minutes of climbing steadily, she reached the highest point and stood for a moment looking out to sea.
The village was visible from her vantage point. There was a short strip of golden sand, and numerous small boats were anchored out in the bay. Elizabeth remembered reading about the history of smuggling in the area, and could just imagine it in the perfectly secluded cove.
The wind blew wildly, whipping at Elizabeth and forcing her to continue on the path. Seagulls squawked, and the waves hitting the rocks created a constant purr in the air. When she reached the beach, she couldn’t resist slipping her shoes off and walking to the shoreline. The cool water was bliss as it swept around her feet.
A couple of fishermen stood on some rocks, far to her left, but she felt very much alone. Her stomach groaned once again and she remembered her task of finding food. As she walked up to the village she wondered how she’d felt so alone on the beach – cars rolled through the narrow streets and there were a number of people around. The waves and the seagulls must have drowned everything else out.
There was a café with a couple of tables outside, and she headed straight for it. A young guy stood in the doorway chatting to an older woman in an apron. He was wearing a navy polo shirt with the RNLI logo on it. Elizabeth was fascinated by lifeboats and the people who volunteered on them. She made a mental note to visit the lifeboat station and leave a donation.
They smiled at her as she took a seat, and she spent a moment trying to decipher their conversation. They had thick Devon accents and she could only just make out the words as they spoke about the weather and the expected number of tourists. After a couple of minutes the man left and the woman came over to Elizabeth.
“Sorry about that,” she said, her accent suddenly not quite so strong. “When someone gets me chatting it’s hard to stop. Did you have a look at the menu?”
“Yes.” Elizabeth smiled. “I was wondering if it would be wrong to have scones for breakfast!”
“Scones are fine at any time,” the woman said happily. “With a bit of jam and clotted cream you’ll be set for the day.”
“It sounds divine, but I think I’ll save it for afternoon tea one day. I’ll be good and stick to toast and coffee for now.”
“That sounds like a great plan too. Coming right up!”
Elizabeth cheerfully watched the world go by as she waited. Pretty much everyone who passed gave her some sort of greeting – from a simple nod of the head to a chirpy “good morning”.
“On your holidays, are you?” the waitress asked when she delivered Elizabeth’s breakfast.
Elizabeth nodded. “I’m staying in Seaview Cottage for a week.”
“What do you think of our little village so far?”
“It’s gorgeous. I could sit here all week looking at the view.”
“You’re very welcome to do that,” the woman said with a chuckle. “And if you want to take the view home with you, there’s a shop round the corner that sells some wonderful pictures. All by local artists.”
“Really?”
“Hope Cove Gallery,” she said proudly. “Follow this road to the top of the slipway. You can’t miss it.”
So that was the next stop on Elizabeth’s little morning exploration. As soon as she’d eaten she set off eagerly in search of the gallery. It was easy to find, just past a row of brightly coloured cottages.
Elizabeth loved it as soon as she walked in, and she felt decidedly childlike as she tried to take everything in with wide eyes.
The smiley man at the counter gave her a brief nod. “Shout if you need any help.”
“Thank you,” she replied, stepping forward to inspect a wall full of stunning pictures. They were all local scenes, some of which Elizabeth already recognised. She was immediately drawn to a watercolour depicting the view she’d stared at over breakfast. She could imagine the boats in the painting bobbing just as they did in real life.
The shop was only small but was packed full of treasures, from simple painted pebbles to mirrors created from driftwood. There was something for everyone. Elizabeth was adamant she wanted a picture to take home, but spent a long time wondering where she would hang it. She and Phil were minimalists when it came to decor, and she just couldn’t imagine any of the pictures in their home.
Never mind – she would figure out where to put it later. Her eyes kept returning to the stunning watercolour and she knew she had to have it. She generally wasn’t one for impulse buys, but she felt incredibly happy as she handed over her credit card. The framed painting was too large to carry, so she arranged to collect it later with the car.
There was a spring in her step as she left Hope Cove Gallery and walked back the way she’d come. The local post office doubled as a small shop, so she stopped off to buy a few groceries. The beach had filled up with people taking advantage of the beautiful summer’s day and the air was filled with laughter and chatter when she walked past, heading back to the coastal path.
Her hair was windswept when she arrived back at the cottage and she ran a brush through it and tied it up again before unpacking her shopping. A smile flickered on her face as she pulled a chicken sandwich out of the shopping bag. She needed to apologise to Max for eating his food as well as sleeping in his cottage.
In the back garden there was a gap in the hedge which led through to the next garden. She heard Max and Conor chatting outside and followed their voices. It was only when she was about to say hello that she realised they were arguing. Or bickering, at least. Something about windows. She was about to back away when Conor caught sight of her.
“What do you think?” he said.
Was he talking to her? Instinctively she glanced around. “What?”
“Sorry,” he said, “I thought you must have overheard. We could do with another opinion.”
“Leave her alone,” Max said. “She’s on holiday. Sorry!” he said, leaning into view.
“It’s fine,” she replied. “Actually, I was just coming to replace your sandwich.” She held it aloft, feeling like an idiot.
“You really didn’t have to,” Max said.
“I’ll take it,” Conor said, grabbing it. Then he beckoned for Elizabeth to join them in the garden. “Come here a minute and help us settle this.”
She squeezed through the gap in the hedge to stand with them.
“I’m sorry about Conor,” Max said. He sat in a patio chair, looking vaguely irritated by his nephew.
“What do you think about the windows, Lizzie?” Conor asked.
“It’s Elizabeth.”
“Really? You seem like a Lizzie. Anyway, the windows.”
She looked at the cottage, slightly confused. “Erm…”
“Imagine you’re a potential buyer,” Conor said. “What would you say about the windows? Be honest.”
“Are you selling?” she asked, glanci
ng at Max.
“It’s not my house,” he said. “It’s my mum’s. She’s selling. We’re supposed to spruce the place up a bit before it goes on the market.”
“Oh, I see.”
“So what do you think about the windows?” Max asked again.
“Well,” she said, walking over to the kitchen window and wondering how honest she should be, “the paint’s peeling, obviously.” Without thinking, she put a finger under a piece of cracked white paint and it flipped easily away from the wood. “Sorry,” she said quickly.
“Exactly!” Conor said.
“But would that put you off buying the place?” Max asked.
“No, I don’t think so. It seems like it would be easy enough to fix.”
“It is,” Conor said excitedly. “Really easy!”
“It’s absolutely not a one-day job,” Max said, looking sternly at Conor. “I’m not about to start painting windows.”
“But I bought all the stuff. Gran said—”
“I know what she said! She tried to talk me into it as well. I told her it’s not happening. And, as Lizzie has pointed out, a bit of flaking paint isn’t going to put anyone off buying the place. They’ll paint it themselves.”
“It’s Elizabeth,” she said.
“Sorry.” He didn’t seem sorry; he seemed amused.
She held his gaze for a moment and then took a few steps back to inspect the windows. “The new owners might paint them purple,” she said slowly.
Max stared at her. “What?”
“The white’s lovely,” she said. “What if someone comes along and decides that since the windows need painting, they might as well do them in their favourite colour … and they end up purple?” Even Conor looked confused.
“Do you have something against purple?” Max asked.
“No,” she said, lips twitching. “I just think white suits the place. I meant any colour, really … they could end up any colour. It’d be a shame if the place ended up with purple window frames.”
“Or green,” Conor said, getting on board. “They could end up green! If they’re all freshly painted, no one will even consider changing the colour.”
Max moved to the window, picking at another piece of paint. He shook his head. “It’s not just slapping fresh paint on,” he said. “We’d have to sand down the wood first. And if we do the windows, we’ll have to do the doors too. And they’ll need at least two coats of paint.”
“But they wouldn’t be purple,” Elizabeth said.
Max caught her smirking. “Okay,” he said, shooing her away, “get back through the hedge. You’re not helping matters. Go on, Lizzie! Off you go!”
“It’s Elizabeth,” she said, but she was chuckling as she slipped back into the next garden. When she turned back, Max was watching her. He mouthed a sarcastic “Thank you” as Conor continued to make his argument.
There was a table and chairs in the garden at Seaview Cottage, along with a plastic sun lounger. Elizabeth gave it a quick dust-off before taking a seat and enjoying the sun on her face and the gentle breeze. For a while, Max and Conor’s voices drifted through and then it went quiet. The urge to reach for her mobile and check her emails came out of nowhere and was hard to resist.
She was determined not to, and instead changed into her swimsuit and headed down to the beach for a swim. When she returned an hour later, she heard voices through the hedge. Peeking through, she saw Max and Conor working on the windows, and felt slightly guilty. It was obviously a bigger job than Conor had realised, and she’d only involved herself in the discussion because she’d found it amusing to side with Conor when he was clearly in the wrong.
To be fair, it would be a shame if the windows ended up something other than white. It was a gorgeous little cottage and the white window frames were a lovely feature. She’d probably done the right thing, she decided.
Chapter 10
After a day of exploring and swimming, Elizabeth was worn out. Her skin tingled from too much sun when she curled up with a book in the evening. When her eyes grew heavy she gave up and went to bed.
Not used to going to bed quite so early, she woke up far too early the next day. It wasn’t even daylight, so she nearly rolled over and went back to sleep. But a thought occurred to her.
She pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper and went down to the kitchen to make a mug of coffee. Then she headed outside with the drink in her hand.
She was on the beach just as the sun began to rise. She sat on the sand to watch. Only a few minutes after she arrived, the silence was interrupted.
“Morning.”
The voice was soft but made her jump nonetheless.
“Sorry,” Max said. “I didn’t mean to creep up on you.”
“It’s fine,” Elizabeth said, a hand over her heart. “You took about ten years off my life, but never mind!”
He hovered over her. “You stole my sunrise spot.”
“Did I really?” she said with a grin. “Well, I’ll share my coffee if you share your spot…”
“Go on then.” He sat beside her on the sand. “Coffee was a great idea.”
“It’s still warm,” she said, holding it out and only then thinking it was an odd thing to do. She wouldn’t usually offer to share her drink with someone she barely knew.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” she said when he took the mug.
He looked amused. “I think you might have an issue with boundaries.”
“I’m sorry! I think you might be right. It’s a new thing. I’m normally very proper.”
“You do seem like someone with airs and graces,” he agreed. “But then you sneak into houses at night and involve yourself in other people’s discussions.” He handed the mug back. “And share your coffee. It’s all very confusing.”
“Hey! Conor asked my opinion.” She looked at the changing colours in the morning sky. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe I should just…” She made a zipping motion across her lips and went quiet.
“You may as well ask your personal question now. Otherwise I’ll forever wonder what it was.”
“I was wondering why your mum’s selling the place. It’s so beautiful. I can’t imagine ever wanting to sell somewhere like that.”
“I don’t think she particularly wants to,” Max said. “It was our holiday home when I was growing up. Mum’s been renting it out for years but it’s too much for her to look after these days. She moved into a nursing home.”
“Sorry…”
“Oh no, it’s not like that. Not sad, I mean.” A smile flashed over his face as he watched the waves roll onto the shore. “Henley House is pretty luxurious. That’s also why she’s selling. She needs the money to pay for the nursing home.”
“Henley House? It sounds very grand.”
“It is,” he said. “She was lonely and nervous about living alone after she had a fall. One of her friends had moved to Henley House and was raving about it. I think Mum was a bit jealous. Anyway, she’s made loads of friends there and is having a whale of a time!”
“She sounds like a character.”
“She is.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the stunning sunrise. It was such a gorgeous spot. If she were Max, she’d buy the cottage herself.
“Why don’t you buy it?” she asked without thinking. “You’re obviously attached to it.” She lowered her gaze then, embarrassed. Why had she assumed he’d be in a position to buy the cottage? In her head, an image of Josie appeared, telling her she was a snob.
When she glanced at Max, he was miles away, looking lost in thought.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” she said quickly. “It’s none of my business. It probably costs a small fortune…”
“It’s not that,” he said. “I did think about buying it. I’m just surprised you think I’m attached to it. I didn’t realise it was that obvious.”
“Who wouldn’t love it?” she said gently. “And if you weren’t attached to it, you wouldn’
t be so bothered by the colour of the window frames.”
“I’m not that bothered by the windows,” he said. “But I decided it might be fun to do with Conor. And it was a good excuse to drag my stay out a little longer.”
He sounded gloomy, and she felt responsible. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s okay. I’ll be sad to see the place sold, that’s all.”
“You’ll still be able to come back. Maybe the new owners will rent it out…”
“I know. But it won’t be the same.”
Instinctively, Elizabeth reached out a hand and laid it over his. Her heart rate rose immediately and she gave a brief squeeze before letting go. Her issues with boundaries seemed to be escalating.
“I should probably get on with the windows,” he said, standing. “I’ve a lot to do today, thanks to you!”
She winced. “Sorry.”
“You know how easy it was to flick a piece of paint off with your finger?” he asked.
She nodded.
“That was deceptive. Most of it doesn’t come off anything like as easily.”
“If you’re trying to make me feel bad, you’ve succeeded!”
“I wasn’t.” He smiled as he walked away. “I promise.”
Chapter 11
After watching the sunrise, Elizabeth had a shower and breakfast, then headed out for a walk along the coastal path, away from the village. It was still early, and everything was peaceful. The only people she met were a couple of dog walkers and a group of hikers. It was exhilarating to do more exploring and she was reminded again of Josie’s theory that everything felt more like an adventure when you were alone. It was true.
She’d brought her towel and swimsuit, having gathered from internet research that there were good beaches nearby. The beaches turned out to be much busier than the coastal path, and after spending a couple of hours lying in the sun at South Milton Sands she began to feel claustrophobic due to the number of people who closed in around her.
It was a gorgeous long stretch of sandy beach and the large car park with amenities ensured that it was a popular destination. There was also a little shop renting out equipment for water sports. A number of people were having fun with kayaks, surfboards and paddle boards on the water.
