I shake my head. “Why would there be something wrong? He only wanted to speak to you, and he didn’t want to leave a message.” I’m not completely useless. Although, I didn’t consider there might be a problem.
Hannah gets up and goes into the hallway. The walls are paper thin, and it’s obvious she’s called the café, even if I can’t hear the conversation clearly.
“Don’t take her words to heart. You know she only wants the best for you. She’ll come around eventually,” Tim says after a few minutes.
I’m over this conversation, even if Tim is trying to help. “How was your day?”
“Good. I got a bonus from a web design I created for a gaming company.”
“At least one of us had some luck.”
“I have some bad news,” Hannah says as she re-enters the living room. Her eyes look puffy and her fingers shake as she lifts them up to her bottom lip. We both wait for her to continue as a bad feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. “Gran’s hurt her arm. She needs some extra help with the tearoom so she can rest her injury for a few weeks. It’s a long shot, but I’m going to try and move some clients around so I can take some time off.”
“I thought she said it was only a sprain and she would be okay when she called earlier?” Tim says, and I try not to be annoyed she told him about Gran’s accident but not me.
“Adam said she was playing it down. She can’t bake or run the café.”
I’m worried about Gran, but I’m also curious about the moody guy. “Why can’t Mum go, and who’s Adam?” I ask.
An unfamiliar look crosses her face. It’s not quite a scowl, but it isn’t pleasant. Maybe asking about Mum and Adam were the right questions to take some of the heat away from me.
“As usual, Mum’s too busy to take any leave from work, even if it’s an emergency. Adam and his dad deliver supplies to Clover Bay. His dad is a local fisherman, and Adam is a postman.”
She seems to know a lot about Adam and his dad, which makes me suspicious of how. It’s not like we spent much time there as kids. I wonder how she knows so much about this family and why it makes her frown.
Clover Bay is like no other village I’ve ever visited, in the depths of rural Devon. It feels like its worlds apart from the central city of Manchester. There are only two ways to get anything into the place. You either carry it, or it’s delivered by sledge, and I’m not talking about the festive type. The village is on a steep cobbled cliff side which feels like a vertical drop when walking down it. There’s no through traffic or public transport. Not even a bicycle could manage the steepness unless it wanted to try out for the Red Bull cliff diving world series. There is a big chance you’d either fall off and roll down the hill or get launched into the sea. As a holiday retreat, it’s ideal, because it’s not very accessible, and it’s a perfect getaway.
According to my mum, it’s a nightmare place to live. She couldn’t wait to move away and did exactly that as soon as she left school. She hated the quirks of a historical village.
Clover Bay could be my chance to get my sister off my case for a while. A long vacation might be what I need to give myself space to think about what I truly want.
“I could go,” I hear myself saying spontaneously.
Hannah scoffs. “You couldn’t make a dozen cupcakes, never mind help run a café.”
Her words are harsh, but she’s always like this. She doesn’t believe I’m capable of much, and this is a big task. If I’m honest with myself, I’m probably not the right person for the job. Running a business is something I know nothing about. It’s a big step up from being fired after a two-week trial. Rice crispy buns and builder’s tea is about all I’m good for. My sister’s right; it was a silly idea to suggest I could do it.
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.” My cheeks warm with embarrassment at her lack of confidence in me.
She squeezes my shoulder, offering a weak smile. Tim and Hannah hug. He’s better at offering comfort during bad situations than me. Instead of trying to fumble my way through a sympathetic moment, I leave them to sort out the arrangements. I head to my room and log onto the computer, scrolling through the Jobcentre website, I look for something I can actually do.
Three
Jody
Tuesday
Lifting the small tub to my nose, I inhale deeply. The chocolate mint scent makes my mouth water, and I lick my lips. Sarah takes the lip balm from my hand and brings it up to her nose to smell.
“You’ve really outdone yourself this time. Chocolate mint is my new addiction. My taste buds are dancing with delight. If I didn’t know better, I’d eat this little pot for dessert,” I say.
It really is that good. My best friend is a genius when it comes to making beauty products for her shop. Think Lush, only on a much smaller scale. I jump down from the glass counter where I’ve been sitting for the last twenty minutes.
“I’m impressed with myself too. This little treat is going to put me on the Etsy bestsellers list. I’ve sold sixty-three this morning alone,” Sarah says, rubbing her hands together with excitement.
The matchbox-sized shop she owns is in Salford. It’s close to Manchester centre, but far enough away to make the rent affordable. Just like my sister, Sarah has her career goals in sight. Her products started as experiments and have gone from strength to strength. Online, her homemade shampoos and scrubs sell out in hours. The postal service is like her second family. They see more of her than I do. Sarah’s handmade treats now have a fixed abode, but it’s still early days. Her business is too small for her to recruit me onto her payroll, but it doesn’t stop me helping out.
“Shall I go get us a sandwich and a pastry from Max’s Bakery?”
“You know I can’t resist their orange tarts. Visiting me at work while you’re looking for a new job is going to double my waistline.” She pats her flat stomach.
“Please. You’re like a size six.”
Rummaging through my bag, I retrieve my purse. After finding some loose coins, I make my way to Max’s. The bakery is busy, and I have to queue before I can order. Once I have the food in a bag, I step back out onto the noisy street.
As I make my way back to Sarah’s shop, I pass a group of workmen drinking coffee and lazily gazing down a big hole in the ground. I pretend to read something on my phone so I don’t catch their attention. I sometimes stop and talk to them for a while, but not today because I’m hungry. My attention is taken away from the workers by hushed voices. A homeless man is being encouraged to move from one of the shop doorways by one of the local business owners. His dark grey beard is overgrown, and his skin looks weathered. I’ve seen him a few times before, and usually, I don’t give him a second glance. It’s like he wants to stay under the radar, and I allow him to stay invisible to me. Today I see him; maybe it’s because the shopkeeper has pointed him out, or it might be because he isn’t hiding away, but he has my attention. He’s probably trying to find some shade from the hot sun rather than annoy anyone. The few times I’ve seen him, he seems to be harmless. Just a plain, ordinary guy, but something must’ve happened for his life to have spiralled out of control. Sleeping rough can’t be easy, and I wonder how he ended up this way. How did he become an outcast to society?
Our eyes connect for a split second, and I offer a weak smile. His expression shows desperation, which makes me hesitate. I’m not the girl anyone turns to for help. He uses his dirty glove to brush matted hair from his sunburnt cheeks. His skin looks dry and in need of more than a good moisturiser. His slumped shoulders make him look exhausted.
“Please can you spare some change?” he says as I walk closer to him.
Money isn’t something I have to spare. I could give him what I have, but I’d begrudge it being spent on alcohol or cigarettes. Not that I’m saying he has a drinking or drug problem. I thrust my hand into my paper bag and pull out one of the orange tarts. I offer it to him, hoping it’s the right thing to do, and he eagerly takes it from me. A faint smile appears
on his face before he nods his head in appreciation. An unfamiliar feeling settles in my chest as an uncontrollable grin breaks out on my face. Picking up my pace, I don’t look back as I hurry to Sarah’s shop. It feels good to brighten someone else’s day.
The bell rings as I enter the snug boutique, and the strong smell of essential oils fills my senses. Sarah has two cups of tea waiting on the glass counter. I take out my sandwich and pass her the bag.
“Where’s your orange tart?” she asks.
“I gave it to the homeless guy.”
“Bernard?” She points out of the tiny window. The guy in question is crossing the busy road. His long brown coat blows in the light breeze as he walks away.
I nod in acknowledgement. “Do you know his story?” I ask as my forehead wrinkles into a frown just thinking about his misfortune.
“Don’t worry. He’s not homeless because he lost his job. I think his wife died or something and he couldn’t cope with his life. I don’t know all the details, but it had nothing to do with being unemployed.” Sarah misreads my emotions. I wasn’t thinking about myself. I’m genuinely curious about what happened to him.
“It’s sad to think some people end up losing everything,” I say.
She wraps her arms around me. “You’ll always have me.”
“Says the girl who’ll probably be engaged next.”
She rolls her eyes, but a smile breaks out across her face. Her boyfriend, Aiden, already has the princess cut diamond ring; I’ve seen it, but he hasn’t asked her the big question yet. Her days of being a Miss are numbered, and we both know it. We hug for a sentimental moment before breaking apart. I take a seat on an old wooden stool, and Sarah leans against the counter. We reminisce about our fond school memories while eating our lunch. Then I help her package her lip balms ready to post before I take a slow walk home.
It’s almost five when I unlock the front door. I have a few minutes before my sister’s due home. The landline phone’s ringing when I step inside the flat. I race to catch the call as excitement tingles in my core. Could my fortune be finally looking up and this call is my lucky break? I cross my fingers in a sign of hope as I pick up the receiver and hold it up to my ear.
“Evans residence, how may I help you?”
I’ve applied for a few call centre positions, so my telephone voice needs to be professional.
“Is your sister home?”
My heart sinks. It’s not a person I want to impress, or a potential job offer. He doesn’t even greet me with a hello. His grouchy voice is starting to irritate me, and we’ve only spoken on the phone once before.
Wait, I’m thinking about this all wrong. I should accept the challenge of a difficult caller. He’s a good person to practice my communication skills on.
“Hello, Adam. Unfortunately, my sister isn’t home right now. Can I take a message?” He doesn’t speak for a moment, and I wonder if I’ve surprised him by knowing his name.
“Jody, get her to ring me.” He hangs up. My stomach does a weird flutter. He shouldn’t affect me in any way. My sister or grandma probably told him my name. I shouldn’t care that he remembers it. Shaking my head, I realise he’s temporarily short-fused my brain. I hit redial before I change my mind. He starts to speak, but I cut him off.
“The least you can do is tell me if my gran’s doing okay. She’s hurt her arm, right? It wasn’t a heart attack or amputation.”
“You’ve been watching too many A&E shows. Molly, I mean, Mrs Evans, has a splint on her arm, but she’ll be fine.”
“Then why do you need to talk to my sister so urgently?”
He clears his throat. “Your gran can’t run The Botanist with one arm, and Kayleigh isn’t reliable. She was two hours late for work this morning, and I can’t keep opening up the café. I have a job to do. People’s mail won’t deliver itself.”
My impulsive nature naturally takes over. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll make sure a member of the Evans family is waiting for you at the top of Clover Hill. I’m hoping you could help with a bag or two?”
Once I explain to my sister how desperate the situation is, I’m sure she’ll work something out, and having Adam prepared to help her with her luggage will earn me extra brownie points, or at least, that’s my theory.
“That’s the news I want to hear. Yes, of course. I’ll be there at eight a.m. Thank you. Goodbye, Jody.” His frosty tone seems to be cracking, and I can’t control my goofy grin. That’s two good deeds I’ve achieved in one day.
“Goodbye, Adam.” Feeling pleased with myself, I hang up.
“Did you promise I’d be in Clover Bay by first thing tomorrow?” Hannah says. She must’ve arrived home while I was talking on the phone. My sister’s sharp tone bursts my happy bubble quicker than a balloon pops when it touches a rose thorn.
“I thought you were making arrangements?” I say with an uneven squeal.
“Talking and doing are two completely different things. You should think things through before agreeing to something that has consequences. I’m struggling to shuffle my clients around. I can’t drop everyone’s appointments I already have booked without any notice. It’s not that simple; I have people who rely on me.” She holds the back of her hand to her head. “I can’t believe I’m suggesting this, but you’re going to have to go in my place. At least until I sort something out.”
“Me?” I point at myself, not quite believing her words.
“You were the one who made the promise. Now you’re going to keep it. Go pack a bag and I’ll check the train times.”
My sister gives me the look. The one that says there is no point arguing. My jaw drops as the realisation of my actions sinks in. What have I done? I should be nervous. I should be absolutely hysterical, but you know what? I’m not at all. For the first time in a long while, I’m excited about helping in the workplace. I’m ready for the chance to prove myself. I can be the right choice for once. Plus, how hard can running a café be?
Four
Adam
Wednesday
She’s late. I should’ve known an outsider couldn’t be trusted to stay true to their word. If only I’d spoken to Hannah directly rather than trusting Jody with a message. I pick up the next heavy cardboard box and load it onto the sledge with a thud. I’m almost ready to set off into the village when a grey pencil skirt catches my attention. Nobody dresses smartly like that in Clover Bay. My eyes wander up from the hem, following the curves of her body. Her white fitted shirt hugs her outline, and my attention is drawn to her cleavage. The little black scarf around her neck makes her look like a sexy flight attendant rather than a tourist. My gaze settles on her plump, glossy lips as her tongue darts out to lick the corner of her mouth. I blink slowly before meeting her eyes, trying to shake lustful thoughts from my mind. The woman in front of me is about my age. Her hair is a couple of shades lighter than mine, and her skin is pale. She’s beautiful in a doll-like kind of way. Although she has a look of Hannah, she’s too young to actually be her. Could she be a member of the Evans family?
“Can I help you?” I ask, but as soon as the words are out of my mouth, the answer is obvious.
She nervously clears her throat. She rubs her palms down the side of her skirt like she’s brushing off dirt. My eyes follow the movement while I wait for her to speak.
“Adam? Hi, I’m Jody. You said you could help me get to my grandmother’s house,” she says, glancing around.
I look at her patent ballet shoes and then over to her designer suitcase.
“I was expecting your sister.” My lips tighten into a thin line. I don’t like surprises, especially ones like her. She looks out of place; Clover Bay is an old fishing village. There’s no airport or need to wear fancy clothes. We’re simple people and live a modest life.
“She couldn’t make it at short notice, so she sent me in her place.” She smiles awkwardly, which makes me think there could be more to the story.
“On the phone yesterday, you made it sound like she’
d be here.” I allow the irritation to bitter my words.
Her fingertips run along her hairline. “I said someone would be here, and someone is. Me.”
She rubs her arm like she’s cold, but the sun is already warming the crisp air. Her words sound confident, but her body language is saying something completely different. I don’t push for information because it won’t change anything. Plus, it seems like she doesn’t want to talk about the finer details, and I don’t want to waste any more time.
“Have you been here before? Do you know the village is built on a steep hill? You should’ve worn walking boots,” I say in a scolding tone.
She rolls her eyes, finally finding that spark of fire I enjoyed talking to on the phone. “It’s too early for your grumpy mood. I’ve had to take a long train ride and too many bus journeys to get here. Maybe you can cut me some slack. I was a toddler last time I visited Clover Bay, so I don’t remember the way. Can you show me where my grandmother lives or not?”
We stare at each other for a few seconds. Her brown eyes hold strong, and I’m the first to look away. Pulling a suitcase down the steep cobbles in those shoes isn’t a good idea. She could easily slip. Then there would be two Evans’ out of action. The quicker we reach the café, the sooner I can forget about her, and I want to get this over with. She won’t be staying long. A couple of months at the most. I can avoid her like the other tourists. Just like them, Jody doesn’t belong here. They’re all momentarily passing through. I’m nobody to them, and I like to keep it that way. Jody is no different. She’ll stay for a short while, leave to go home, and never look back.
I pick up her luggage and secure it onto the sledge. Once my gloves are in place, I grip the rope at the back of my load and unlock the brake. Today I’ll have to make seven or eight trips down into the village. I’m not wasting the first journey, so Jody will have to wait for me to complete my round. Along the way, I make the parcel deliveries and watch her stumble along behind me. She loses her footing a few times, and I fight the urge to steady her. The café is located at the bottom of the hill, and it’s a little after nine when we finally arrive.
The Heart of Baker’s Bay Page 2
