Seaside Manor Bed and Breakfast

by Lilly Mirren

  Sarah reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I’m so sorry, honey. Surely if you keep going to the doctor someone will be able to figure it out.”

  “I hope so.” Vicky smiled, but her eyes were clouded with doubt. “And how about you, Meg. How’s things at home?”

  Meg leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “I don’t want to complain… I feel like all I do is complain.”

  “No you don’t,” reassured Vicky.

  “Definitely not,” agreed Sarah. “You hardly ever complain, especially given how hard things are for you right now. We’re your sounding board, complain away. We promise not to judge you for it.” She pulled a face that made Meg laugh.

  “Okay, well — I think things are okay. Not great, but not terrible either. I’m working a lot and holding everything together. I’m not sure I could manage anything else — if something new comes along, it might all fall to the ground in a heap, me along with it.” She giggled. “But as things stand, I’m coping. Just.”

  “That’s good to hear,” replied Sarah.

  “Come on, you have to tell us why you’re in such a mood, Sarah.” Meg studied Sarah, seeing her green eyes gleaming in the glow from the fire at Sarah’s back.

  Sarah drew a deep breath. “It’s nothing really. I was on the phone to the office before I came here, that’s all. It didn’t go well. I can’t remember what it was I enjoyed about working there anymore. It’s so pretentious, so political… ugh.” She ran a hand over her hair, smoothing it out of her face. “I’ve lost the joy of working there. I used to love it, now I dread every conference call. And it doesn’t help that my nemesis undermines me at every turn — she’s got her eye on my senior editor job, and she’s not afraid to do whatever it takes to get there. The thing is, I’ve got no desire to fight her for it.”

  “What would you do if you could do anything in the world?” asked Vicky.

  “What do you mean?” Sarah frowned.

  “For work… if you could have any career of your choosing with no obstacles or limitations, what would it be?”

  Sarah hesitated. She’d never thought of things that way before. There were always obstacles. Always limits to the opportunities available. It was an enticing thought — to dream of what her life could be. To some extent she’d done that. She’d moved from the city back to Emerald Cove, bought and renovated the cottage, and ended her engagement to a selfish, cheating fiancé. Now she was dating Mick, a part-time architect and full-time contractor. Her personal life was exactly what she wanted it to be, even though she’d never thought she’d end up back in the Cove, dating a local man. It’d been the furthest thing from her thoughts ten years ago, heck even one year ago. So, why was it so hard for her to imagine her dream job?

  She’d always been too practical. Too sensible, responsible. Careers weren’t even considered if they didn’t have the prospect of a solid paycheck.

  “I suppose,” she began slowly, “If I could do anything, I’d be a fiction writer — a novelist.”

  Vicky grinned. “I knew it!”

  Sarah grunted. “What? You did not. I didn’t even know it until this moment.”

  “You’ve always loved books and you’re a great writer.”

  “That was in high school,” protested Sarah. “We don’t know I’d be a great writer now.”

  “Why would it be any different now?” asked Meg. “You’re talented, so add hard work, determination, and grit, and you can’t lose. At least, that’s what Brad always told reporters when they asked him about the secret to his success as a surfer… before the accident.”

  Sarah considered her words. “You think?”

  “Definitely,” replied Meg.

  “For sure,” agreed Vicky. “I think it’s a great idea. You should go for it.”

  “What? Do you mean quit my job and become a novelist?” That was crazy. She didn’t do things like that. She worked hard at a steady job to pull in a regular paycheck. She was reliable, dependable, and she always made the smart choice.

  What would she do if she failed?

  A failed author… could she work as an editor? Would any publishing house have her after that?

  It was a big risk to take, but there was a flutter in the bottom of her gut that confirmed she wanted to try. She desperately wanted to give it her best shot.

  “Okay…I’ll think about it.”

  Chapter 12

  Emily

  The hum of the refrigerator was the only sound in the cavernous house, apart from the chirping of birds outside the kitchen window. Emily drummed fingers on the kitchen bench. They’d had no guests last night. None. Not a single one. Sunbeams refracted through the window and painted rainbows on the white marble bench top. She traced their outline with a fingernail, her lips pursed.

  This wouldn’t do. How could they run a business if they didn’t have any guests to stay at their bed and breakfast? She could almost hear the money sifting from the Manor’s bank account moment by moment. A place as big as this one involved a lot of upkeep. There were taxes and suppliers to pay, as well as staff. There was maintenance work to be done, things to be replaced, and supplies to restock.

  She’d laid off most of the part-time staff. Ethan had replaced the handyman. She’d begun baking the treats for the guests for their pillows on arrival and for morning and afternoon tea so had ended the longstanding relationship with a local baker. Diana hadn’t been happy about it, since the woman was a friend of hers from way back, but Emily had assured her that they didn’t have a choice, at least until bookings increased. And besides, what was the point in Emily’s expertise as a chef if she wasn’t going to use it?

  Still, she’d decided to continue to pay the cleaner even though there wasn’t enough work to keep her going — it wasn’t fair to cut off the woman’s source of income because they’d hit a bit of a slump and if there was one thing Emily hated to do more than anything else in the world, it was to clean — especially other people’s messes. Things would turn around, they had to. And the last thing she’d need then would be to have to scramble to find and train good help. So, the cleaner was currently tasked with spring cleaning every room of the Manor, one per day. Emily was determined that the entire building would be sparkling from top to bottom before the slump in bookings was over.

  Since there was no breakfast to make or clean up, she’d decided to get started on a stocktake. Emily padded in her slippers to the office, slid into the chair, and stared at the blank computer screen. It still felt strange to sit in Aunty Di’s chair, in her office. When she was a kid, the office had been out of bounds for her. She was only allowed in it on special occasions to share tea with her aunt. Any other time she had to stay well clear of the neat, dark room.

  She’d stood at the doorway many times, staring inside with longing glances at the rows of books that lined the bookshelves on one wall — thrillers, mysteries, true stories of survival, all the books her aunt loved.

  She stood to her feet, wiped her palms down the fronts of her pyjama pants and walked over to stand in front of the bookshelves. They were custom built in dark timber and covered one entire end of the office. Emily plucked a book from the shelf closest to her and ran fingers over its dust jacket. The colours on the cover were faded and there was a tear in the paper, but otherwise it was in decent shape. Auntie Di hadn’t wanted to take them with her when she left; she said she wouldn’t have the space to keep them. Maybe Emily would get back into reading. She hadn’t done much reading since Mum died; it was something they’d done together — Mum would read a book, then pass it on to Emily, and the two of them would discuss over coffee and cake when she was done. She missed that. It made it hard to pick up a book and open the pages.

  There was a quiet knock on the door and, startled, she dropped the book to the floor. It thudded softly on the carpet as she swung to see who was there, her heart in her throat.

  “Hi,” said Ethan.

  She huffed. “You scared me!”

  She pressed her hand
to her chest, breathing deep to slow her heart rate. He chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. His light brown hair was as perfectly mussed as always, and his hazel eyes glinted with a mixture of what seemed like curiosity and mischief. A twinge of longing ran through her — longing to belong, to be known, to be in Ethan Flannigan’s inner circle. She’d never been part of his chosen crowd, as a kid she was always hanging around the edges. She was certain he wouldn’t understand something like that. People like Ethan were the pied pipers, the ones others flocked to. He couldn’t help it, it was the way he was made — attractive, charming, strong. He knew how to talk to people, put them at ease, made them feel interesting, as though he cared. And maybe he did. She hadn’t quite figured him out. Not yet. She wasn’t particularly good at measuring people, if her ex-boyfriend was anything to go by, and didn’t trust her natural inclination to let herself be drawn to Ethan.

  “What do you want?” She found herself slipping back into the clipped tones she often used with Ethan.

  The gleam left his eyes. She didn’t mean to speak to him that way, it happened before she realised what she was saying.

  “I was checking in, wanted to see what you’re up to. We don’t have any guests tonight either so I thought it might be a good time to do some strategising about the future.”

  She picked up the book and returned it the shelf, then sat behind her desk. He lowered himself into a chair and crossed one long leg over the other.

  “Great,” she replied. “What were you thinking?”

  “There are a few things we could improve around here…”

  “Definitely. I’d love to get some painting done. The paint’s a bit old fashioned and in need of an update.” Emily leaned back in her chair. She had a lot of ideas, but how many of them could be done on a shoestring budget? Their first priority was getting occupancy rates up, and any small thing they could do to encourage that was a win.

  “We can do that. And I’d like to build a pagoda in the garden. It’s so beautiful out there in the warmer months, I think the guests would like it, and it might attract some weddings.”

  Emily nodded. “Good idea.” She only wished she’d thought of it. Weddings were exactly the type of business they should be courting. “And I thought I might get some brochures printed, update the website, visit some local travel agencies. We have to try to increase bookings for the peak holiday season, at the moment we’re looking at about a twenty percent occupancy rate and that won’t get us through the year.”

  “I’m glad we’re on the same page. I can do a lot of the work around here—”

  “And I can help with painting,” interrupted Emily.

  Ethan dipped his head in agreement. “Sounds good.” He stood to his feet. “I’ll head out and get started planning the pagoda. Let me know if you have any ideas for it.”

  “Thanks.” She waved him goodbye, then sat for a few moments staring at the empty doorway. Was she imagining things or was he acting a little frostier towards her than usual? He generally made a joke of some kind, got her laughing, but he’d been all business. She couldn’t blame him, she supposed, since every interaction they had usually resulted in her snapping at him.

  She flicked on the computer and jotted some marketing ideas on a sheet of paper while she waited for it to boot up. Then, she typed the web address for the Manor’s website into the browser. When it loaded, she groaned and pressed her hands to her head to stare at it in dismay. It was terrible. It looked about twenty years old, was difficult to navigate and seemed to have been designed by an amateur who knew nothing about web design. Emily didn’t have much in the way of technical skills, but she’d put together a web site in the past, and figured they only needed something simple.

  The first thing they’d need was some decent photographs of the place. She’d pull out her camera and get to work that day. Photography was a passion of hers, she loved capturing the beauty of a moment in an image and had even take a class on it the previous year.

  There were a few of her boxes of things still stacked against the office wall. She opened one of them and rifled through it, locating her SLR camera in the bottom, packed carefully in its case. She pulled it out and looked through the lens, adjusting some of the settings and snapped a quick shot of the bookshelves, with the armchairs in front. It was a peaceful scene, reminded her of those special moments she’d shared with Aunty Di and mum as a kid, drinking tea and feeling all grown up.

  On the desk her phone buzzed. She stood and reached for it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi there, honey.” Callum’s deep voice sent a shot of adrenaline through her veins. She hadn’t looked at the screen before answering, wasn’t expecting to hear from him. It’d been months since he left her in Coffs Harbour.

  “Callum, what a nice surprise.” She adopted a neutral tone. The last thing she wanted was to let him know how much he’d hurt her. It’d only end in an argument, since he’d feel the need to defend himself and somehow, he’d turn it all around to show how it was really her fault all along. It was a game he liked to play, and she had no desire to go there — things between them were finished, including his manipulative games.

  “I hadn’t heard from you in a while, thought I’d check in and see how you’re going down south.”

  He paused, waiting. She sighed. The sooner she could end the call the better. “I’m fine, thanks. How’s things up in Airlie Beach?”

  He chuckled. “It’s great. We’re playing four nights a week at the resort, making good money. Can’t complain. I even went snorkelling out on the reef with the rest of the band yesterday. Amazing! You should definitely do it sometime. The colours… wow.”

  She couldn’t help smiling. His voice was warm, he was in a good mood, and his charm never failed on her. Still, she couldn’t fall for it again. Not after what she’d found in his unit before he left.

  “That sounds great. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

  “You should come, I’ve got space at my place. Come on, you’ll love it. You’ve never really warmed to Coffs.”

  The invitation was a surprise. He’d barely looked back when he left. It’d torn her heart out to see how little he thought of her and what they shared. Now he was acting as though she’d chosen to stay behind.

  “No, thanks for thinking of me though.”

  He hesitated. “No? Just like that? You’re not going to think about it? You don’t even like living in Coffs, and you can quit that crappy waitressing job… there are much better opportunities up here.”

  “Are you missing me, all of a sudden?” asked Emily.

  “Of course. It’s not the same here without you.”

  Emily shook her head. He never changed. “Well, I’m not in Coffs Harbour anymore. I moved.”

  “What? Where are you? You didn’t even send me a text to let me know you moved?” His voice was laced with irritation.

  She didn’t want to tell him the truth, wasn’t sure what he might do knowing she was part owner of a bed and breakfast. “I’m staying with my aunt for a while, until I figure out what I want to do next.”

  He grunted. “You could’ve told me.”

  “We’re not dating anymore, Callum. Why should I keep you up to date on anything I’m doing? It’s not your business anymore.”

  He was silent and she rubbed a hand over her face, waiting for his response. His voice was cold. “We never had that conversation.”

  “I know. I’m aware of that, but you left and didn’t ask me to go with you — so I assumed. Anyway, it’s for the best, since I really don’t think we suit each other. I believed we were right together for a long time, but I was wrong.” She’d hoped to avoid this conversation but now they were having it, she could see it was needed for both of them. Closure was important, so they could each move on with their lives.

  “Of course we suit each other, honey. We’re great together… we have so much fun. Well, when you’re not being a downer, we have fun. Sometimes you’re a bit too upt
ight, but that’s something we can work on. We can get you to loosen up a bit, no worries.” His grin resonated through the phone.

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to work on loosening up, Callum. This is me, it’s who I am. I have no desire to be someone else. Look, it was great to hear from you, but I’ve got to go. I’m glad things are working out for you up north.”

  Emily hung up the phone and pressed her fingertips to her eyes with a groan. Hearing his voice had her heart thundering in her chest, sweat beading on her face and beneath her arms. She hated confronting him, arguing. Throughout their relationship, he’d been the one to get his way. He’d charm, convince, and manipulate her, and because she didn’t want to lose him, she’d moved away from her friends and support network to follow him, she found herself accepting things she never would’ve in the past, and falling for his words when she knew they didn’t make sense.

  Well, he didn’t have that hold over her anymore. No one did. She was living her own life, her way. Her aunt and uncle had given her an opportunity, not only to build the kind of career she could love and be proud of, but also to be her own person. She wanted to be someone her mother could’ve been proud of, even the father she’d never known played in her thoughts — perhaps if she made something of the chance she’d been given, he might’ve been proud too. With a sigh, she pushed to her feet and headed out the door — it was time to take some photographs of the Manor to use on the website and in brochures. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, and the Seaside Manor Bed and Breakfast looked every bit the quaint, historical, and luxurious holiday destination it was. She smiled as she worked. Callum was her past. The Manor was her future.

  Ethan

  The waves rose and fell in a steady rhythm, soothing, comforting, and bringing back so many memories that Ethan couldn’t help smiling where he sat on his surfboard. He tented a hand over his eyes to cut the glare and studied the shoreline of Emerald Beach. The town was waking up, coming to life. Children played along the edge of the water, running with pails and shovels, or splashing in the whitewash of the waves’ last gasp.