The Cottage at Hope Cove

by Hannah Ellis

  “There’s something you’re not telling me. Do you have news?”

  “I wasn’t going to tell you now. My good news is irrelevant when you’ve had bad news.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly,” Elizabeth said. “Tell me! You got the job, didn’t you?”

  “Yes!”

  “Tell me about it, then,” Elizabeth said, setting her wine down. “I can’t believe you wouldn’t even tell me about the interview.”

  “It wasn’t really an interview,” Josie said, then squealed, “It was an audition! I’ve got an acting job!”

  Elizabeth was shocked. “What? How?”

  “I’ve been taking drama classes for ages.”

  “I thought that was just for fun.”

  “It was to start with, but I’m quite good at acting. I joined an agency a while ago and I’ve had a few auditions. This time I got the part!”

  “That’s amazing,” Elizabeth said, not entirely sure what to make of her sister’s latest career path.

  “I know,” Josie said. “It’s going to be on the BBC too. If it gets aired,” she added. “But it will. So far they’re just making the pilot, but it’s going to be fantastic.”

  “What is it? What part are you playing?” Elizabeth asked, carried along by Josie’s enthusiasm.

  “It’s a soap opera set on a military base.”

  “You’re a soldier?” Elizabeth asked.

  “No. I’ll be playing a barmaid. I think this could be exactly what I’ve been looking for. It’s perfect for me.”

  “I’ll help you learn your lines,” Elizabeth said.

  “Oh, it’s a non-speaking part,” Josie told her. “To start with, anyway. I’ll be what they call a recurring extra.”

  “Oh, right.” Elizabeth tried not to look too deflated. “It does sound perfect for you.”

  “It’s going to be amazing!” Josie said, raising her glass.

  Elizabeth didn’t have the heart to disagree.

  Chapter 41

  Elizabeth had promised to meet Karen the week after she finished work. Karen wanted them to meet on the same day each week, so they didn’t lose touch. If she didn’t get to see Elizabeth at the office, she’d said, she needed to see her socially every week. Knowing Karen’s work schedule, Elizabeth didn’t really see that happening, but she didn’t like to say so. She’d assumed they’d keep in touch by email and text, with the occasional phone call and meet-up.

  It was four weeks since Elizabeth had left work, and so far Karen had cancelled on her every week. Elizabeth didn’t actually mind. She’d been busy herself, but things with the cottage were moving quickly and she wanted to tell Karen about the move in person and, if they carried on like this, Elizabeth would have moved before they managed to meet.

  The phone rang as she was getting ready. She sighed when she saw it was Karen. Was she going to cancel again?

  “Don’t worry, I can make our meeting,” Karen said quickly. “But I wondered if you’d mind a change of venue?”

  “Not at all,” Elizabeth said, relieved. “Where were you thinking?”

  Karen hesitated. “Would you mind coming in to the office?”

  “You’re not serious?”

  “Please! I’m snowed under. I’ve got so much to do I’ll be here until midnight. But I thought maybe you could bring me a takeaway and I can take a break for a gossip. It’ll be like old times!”

  “This is ridiculous, you know,” Elizabeth said, thanking her lucky stars she’d left.

  “I know. I’m sorry. As soon as things slow down, I’m taking you out for a slap-up meal. My treat.”

  “Oh great. Something to look forward to when hell freezes over…”

  “That tone doesn’t suit you,” Karen said. “You coming or not?”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth said. “But only because I have big news. This is the last time I set foot in the offices of MyStyle magazine.”

  “Ooh, I’m excited about your news. Now hurry up – I’m starving. Chinese, please. You know what I like.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes, then threw her phone aside and continued getting ready.

  It was strange walking back into the office. She’d expected to feel some sort of nostalgia: after all, she had worked there for over ten years. But all she felt was relief. Relief that she was only there for a visit, and not to work.

  “You’re the best,” Karen said when she walked into her office. “That smells amazing.”

  “Nice to see you too!”

  “Yes! Lovely! That’s what I meant. Give me a hug.” They embraced warmly. Elizabeth really was happy to see her old friend.

  “I missed you,” they said at the same time and then laughed.

  “I’m so hungry,” Karen said, taking the bag of food and opening it on her desk. “I don’t think I stopped to eat all day.”

  “Is it really that crazy?” Elizabeth asked. “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean, what’s going on? This is what it’s like! Have you forgotten already?”

  “I must have,” she said, but when she thought back, she could remember days when she’d been too busy to eat.

  “Don’t you miss it?” Karen said, tucking into her chow mein.

  “Erm, no,” Elizabeth replied. “I’m quite happy.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Karen said. “And I’m surprised you’ve not called me begging for your job back. I was sure you would.”

  “That definitely won’t happen.”

  “What’s the big news, then?” Karen said, seeming to calm down as she ate. Had she always been so manic? Perhaps it was just more pronounced now, since Elizabeth’s life had shifted down a gear.

  “I have lots of news,” Elizabeth said. “But the main thing is, I’m moving to Devon.”

  Karen stopped with her fork to her mouth. “What?”

  “I’m buying a cottage on the coast. It looks like we’ll exchange contracts in a few weeks, and I’ll move straight in.”

  Karen put her food aside and leaned back in her chair. “Is this to do with the guy you met there?”

  “Kind of. I’m buying the cottage from his mum. It’s nothing to do with him, though. I did go looking for him, but it turns out he’s already married.”

  “So you decided to buy his house?”

  “Not his house,” Elizabeth said calmly. “His mum’s. He’s not in the picture.”

  “I should hope not, if he’s married. But I don’t get it. Why would you buy a place in Devon? And are you really going to live there?”

  “Yes. I need a fresh start, that’s why. And it’s a beautiful place.”

  “There are a lot of beautiful places in the world, but you don’t just up and move like that. Do you even know anyone there?”

  “No. But I’ll be fine. A change is as good as a rest and all that…”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” Karen said.

  “Yes.”

  Karen chewed on a nail. “It’s a bad idea. Do you think you might need some counselling or something? Are you depressed?”

  “No,” Elizabeth said, unsure whether or not to be offended. “I’m fine. I’m happy.”

  “That’s not rational behaviour.”

  Elizabeth sighed in annoyance. “It is rational,” she said, sounding more irritated than she intended. “I wasn’t happy with my job, so I changed it. I wasn’t happy with Phil, so I left him. What I want to do is go and live on the coast. So that’s what I’m going to do. Which part isn’t rational?”

  Karen raised her eyebrows, then carried on eating without a word.

  “You could just be pleased for me,” Elizabeth suggested.

  “This is really what you want?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Then I suppose that’s all that matters. I just worry about you. It seems a bit drastic.”

  “I know, but it’s what I want.”

  “I hope it works out,” Karen said. “Now I’m really never going to see you, am I?”

  “I’ll visit,�
� Elizabeth said. “And you could come and visit me?”

  “You know I don’t like to leave London. I get nervous outside the M25.”

  “I’m sure you’ll make an exception.”

  “I might,” she agreed. “I probably ought to see the place that caused all this trouble. See what all the fuss is about.”

  “I can’t wait to show you around,” Elizabeth said, wondering if Karen would ever make it to Hope Cove – and, if she did, how many times she would cancel before she made it there.

  Chapter 42

  The sale of Seaside Cottage went through without a hitch. When Elizabeth enquired about getting the keys, she’d been amused by the email from the estate agent, which said the keys would be left on the kitchen table, unless she had any objections. She didn’t, and was excited that she would be living in the sort of place where people didn’t worry about locking their doors. It would be a big change, moving away from Oxford, but she was determined it would be a positive one.

  She moved in on a damp day in December. There was no moving van or strong men lugging boxes, just Elizabeth and a carload of stuff. It had felt liberating to have a big clear-out when she left Phil. Her wardrobe had been culled, all her power suits and high heels shipped off to charity shops. She’d kept a few outfits in case she had to attend any business meetings, but now that she was working from home her wardrobe could be far more casual. Heck, she could work in her pyjamas if she felt like it.

  The first time she walked back into Seaside Cottage, it hit her harder than she’d expected. She was haunted by memories, and missed Max fiercely. He was so firmly ingrained in her memories of the place that it was hard not to see him everywhere she turned. The constant reminders of him made her heart ache. She kept telling herself she was being ridiculous. How could she miss him so much when she’d only known him for a week?

  On her first evening – after she’d stopped unloading and unpacking, and dropped onto the couch – she was hit by a sense of doom. Buying the house was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever done, completely eclipsing the time she’d let herself into the wrong cottage and slept there without realising.

  She wondered how she would make a life for herself in a tiny coastal village where she knew no one. Why had she ever thought moving there was a good idea?

  She missed Josie too. Living with her had been such a comfort, and part of her wanted to go back and take refuge on her couch again, drinking wine and laughing while Josie convinced her she could have whatever she wanted from life. If it hadn’t been for Josie, Elizabeth had no idea how she would have survived the past months. As a thank you, Elizabeth had left Josie the painting of Hope Cove. She knew Josie loved it and when Josie had protested that it was too much, Elizabeth had argued she didn’t need it any more. She had the view from her window.

  She hauled herself up to bed that evening telling herself that things would get better. It was bound to take some time to settle in to her new life. Once her business was up and running properly and she got herself into some sort of routine, she’d feel much better. She felt as if she’d taken a leap into darkness and was waiting to see where she would land. It was terrifying, but all she could do was take each day at a time and hope everything would work out in the end. She’d visit Verity in the morning and treat herself to a scone. A good old natter with Verity would surely make her feel better.

  Unfortunately, it was pouring with rain the next day. She waited all morning for it to ease and when it didn’t, she abandoned her idea of walking into the village and drove instead. The girl working in the café was busy on her mobile phone and Elizabeth had to wait a few moments before she acknowledged her. Apparently, Verity had gone to visit her sister in New Zealand for a couple of months, as she always did in the winter when business was slow.

  Elizabeth felt deflated as she walked out of the café. The town had been bustling in the summer, and there always seemed to be people to chat to. The view of the bay was different now too. The grey clouds made a bleak scene as the wind and rain whipped at her violently. The waves rumbled as they pummelled the sea wall. It was still stunning, but in a completely different way. There wasn’t a soul in sight and it wasn’t surprising.

  Hurrying to her car, she told herself again that everything would get better.

  The next month felt like the longest month of her life. She spent Christmas at her parents’ place in Oxford, with Josie. It was such a lovely time but it seemed to make her life at Seaside Cottage even more depressing. She remembered Max telling her that his girlfriend thought the place was drab, and she finally understood. It was exactly that. Everything seemed so bleak, and with each passing day she became more convinced that she’d made the biggest mistake of her life by moving to Hope Cove.

  Somehow, she’d expected it to be easier to meet people. It was a small community and she’d thought she’d get to know the locals easily. So far, she knew the people who worked in the shop and post office by sight, and she was starting to recognise a few dog walkers, but she wasn’t sure how to engage in any meaningful interactions.

  There was a community notice board and she’d hoped to find some activities she could join, but her only real options seemed to be a bridge club or a knitting club, and neither appealed in the slightest. Instead, she threw herself into setting up her business, taking more online courses and working with as many authors as she could.

  In mid-January, she hit rock bottom. She’d spent yet another day alone in the cottage, working. The wet, windy weather made her feel like a prisoner in her own home. Her new life wasn’t anything like she’d imagined it would be.

  She gazed into the flickering fire, and pulled a blanket around her. In winter, the cottage she’d always thought of as warm and cosy was cold and draughty. When the television couldn’t hold her interest, she lay down on the couch to cry.

  The next morning, she woke in the same spot, cold and stiff. She pulled on a thick woolly cardigan and slippers before she switched on the coffee machine. There were still a few boxes to unpack. It was hard to know whether it was worth unpacking, or whether she should admit she’d made a huge mistake and move back in with Josie. She could rent Seaside Cottage out just as Charlotte Anderson had done.

  The knock at the front door startled her. For a moment, she thought it might be Josie, and decided she would never be as happy to see her little sister. It wasn’t. An elderly lady stood at the front step holding a plate draped with a tea towel.

  Puzzled by the early morning visitor, Elizabeth forgot to speak for a moment.

  “I’ve baked you a cake,” the woman said. “To welcome you to the area. Sorry it’s taken me so long. I’m always so busy over Christmas. I just live a couple of houses down, towards the village.”

  Elizabeth automatically craned her neck in the direction, but the houses were all set back from the road, hidden away.

  “I’m Dorothy Peters,” the woman said, holding out the cake. “You can call me Dot. Actually, most people call me Dotty, but that always feels an odd way to introduce myself.”

  Elizabeth finally found her voice.

  “Elizabeth Beaumont.” A slow smile spread over her face. “You can call me Lizzie.”

  Chapter 43

  Elizabeth was surprised and amused to find herself at a group called Knitter Natter at Dotty’s house the following Thursday. It was the knitting group she’d dismissed when she’d seen it on the notice board.

  Dotty was determined that Elizabeth should come and meet some of the locals, insisting she’d go mad in the winter months if she didn’t have friends in the village.

  Since Elizabeth had already started to feel that she was going mad, she didn’t need any convincing on that score. The isolation had definitely been taking its toll. She’d begun to resign herself to life as a lonely spinster – a recluse in a hidden-away cottage. But maybe it wouldn’t be like that after all.

  A grey-haired lady called Penny sat in the armchair in Dotty’s front room. She’d briefly looked up from her kni
tting when she was introduced to Elizabeth but otherwise kept her head down, engrossed in the blanket she was working on. Luckily, Tammy the local postwoman had arrived a few minutes after Elizabeth and had kept the room alive with conversation as Dotty came and went from the kitchen fetching drinks and biscuits. Elizabeth had learned that Tammy had recently turned forty and had two children, who attended the local primary school. It seemed that she was well known in the area, and involved herself in many community events.

  “I always call in on Thursday mornings,” Tammy told Elizabeth. “It’s lovely to break up my round with a cuppa and a chat. You’ve got a good neighbour in Dotty,” she confided when Dotty left the room to answer the door. “She’ll help you settle in. You’re on your own, are you?”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth said, not at all put out by Tammy’s directness. She was more amused by the thought that she could quickly become the subject of local gossip: the city woman living all alone in the draughty cottage. Although, come to think of it, it was probably only her who had an issue with the draughts.

  “We’re tight-knit round here,” Tammy said. “I’m sure you’ll feel at home in no time.”

  “I think I will,” Elizabeth agreed with a much-needed feeling of positivity.

  “Hello!” a tall man said as he entered the room, a baby in his arms. He passed the baby to Tammy, who bounced it happily on her knee. “I’m John,” he said, shaking Elizabeth’s hand before dropping a changing bag in the corner and peeling off his coat.

  “John’s our resident stay-at-home dad,” Tammy said. “He’s got three boys, and Thomas here is the youngest.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got your hands full,” Elizabeth said as she tickled the baby’s cheek.

  “They keep me busy,” he agreed happily.

  “I’d better get on,” Tammy said, casually passing the baby to Elizabeth and saying a cheery goodbye to everyone. Elizabeth was slightly taken aback but relaxed when the six-month-old smiled up at her.