Making Wishes at Bay View

by Jessica Redland

  Making Wishes At Bay View

  Welcome to Whitsborough Bay Book 1

  Jessica Redland

  To Beatrice – nurse, midwife, councillor, mayor,

  mother, grandmother and inspiration. May you rest in peace xx

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  More from Jessica Redland

  About the Author

  Also by Jessica Redland

  About Boldwood Books

  1

  I blame it on my dad. If he hadn’t died when I was only six, I don’t think I’d have been so obsessed with older men. Don’t get me wrong, Nick did a brilliant job at being the man in my life. I don’t know what Mum and I would have done without him. But ceasing to be the brother and becoming the dad instead is a big ask for anyone, especially when they’re only ten themselves when it happens.

  Let me be really clear for a moment. I wasn’t looking for an older man to be a replacement father or anything weird like that. It’s just that I was drawn to them more than to anyone close to my age. There was a confidence about them. Maturity. Experience. They were attentive. They knew what they wanted. In some cases they knew what was best for me too and I kind of liked not having to make decisions for myself. Sometimes. So, on reflection, perhaps they were filling some sort of dad-shaped void in my life.

  The thing is, my relationships always seemed to go wrong. Very wrong. I swore every time that I wasn’t going to get involved with an older man again. Then the next one would come along and I’d be right back to square one, thinking that this time would be different.

  What’s that phrase? You have to kiss a few frogs before you find your prince? Believe me, I’ve kissed more than my fair share of frogs. And toads. And snakes. But I’d finally got there. I’d found my prince and he answered to the name of Tony Sinclair. Forty-five. Divorced. No kids. Still had his own hair. Still had the body and sex drive of a man in his twenties. Perfect. Or it would have been if he wasn’t constantly on the road with his job and I didn’t work shifts. Time together was rare and precious.

  ‘Are you still courting that sugar daddy of yours?’ Ruby asked as she watched me lay out the tables for afternoon bingo.

  I smiled at my favourite resident. I knew I shouldn’t have favourites, but Ruby had led such a fascinating life and I loved hearing all about it. She’d run away to join the circus at age fourteen, then toured the world as an exotic dancer in her late teens and early twenties. Seriously. I’d seen the photographic evidence. She’d been a looker back then and still was. She’d gathered a few wrinkles in her eighty-four years, but her grey eyes still sparkled with mischief, her thick white hair was always elegantly pinned up, and she dressed immaculately in calf-length satin and lace dresses, crocheted floaty cardigans, and pearls. She reminded me of a flapper from the twenties.

  ‘Tony? Yes, Ruby, we’re still courting.’

  ‘No more accusations of being clingy?’

  I shook my head. ‘All dealt with and forgotten a couple of months ago.’ We’d split up in April after I’d gone overboard on texting and phoning him around my twenty-fifth birthday. He was working away on my actual birthday, which I completely accepted, and this had been my way of feeling close to him. He wasn’t impressed, his boss wasn’t impressed, and I wasn’t impressed at being called ‘childish and clingy’. So I childishly dumped him. I regretted it immediately and pleaded for another chance. He made me stew a bit before forgiving me but everything was back on track a fortnight later. Lesson learned.

  Ruby took a seat at her regular table overlooking the gardens and straightened her lilac frock. ‘How long is it now, Callie?’

  I started distributing the bingo cards. ‘Coming up eleven months. Bit of a record for me. It usually goes tits-up within three.’ I gasped and put my hand over my mouth. ‘Please don’t tell anyone I said rude words. Especially Denise.’

  Denise Kimble, aka the She-Devil, was the Day Manager of Bay View Care Home and not my biggest fan. I’d been hauled into her office only the week before and lectured on the ‘inappropriateness’ of shouting out, ‘Who’s farted?’ during film night. It didn’t matter to her that the residents had found it hilarious or that it had prompted Jack Laine to do the decent thing and leave the room to evacuate his bowels instead of steadily overcoming the residents’ lounge with noxious gases. Apparently, ‘The elderly frequently suffer from flatulence issues and staff should know better than to draw attention to it using vulgar language’. That was me told.

  Ruby picked up the bingo card I’d given her, frowned and swapped it with one from across the table. ‘No lucky seven on it,’ she announced when she saw me watching. ‘Nearly eleven months, you say? Congratulations. Let’s hope he’s a keeper.’

  I grinned. ‘Oh, he is, Ruby. He definitely is.’

  ‘I like sugar daddies. Did I tell you about my first one? I was sixteen and he was the fifty-eight-year-old lion tamer at the circus. There was nothing that man couldn’t do with a whip…’

  ‘Tony!’ I ran across the car park at the end of my shift, grinning. He drew me into a tender kiss.

  ‘Get a room, you two!’ yelled Maria, my best friend and colleague, as she walked past.

  I waved to her and giggled. ‘She’s only jealous. Where are you taking me tonight?’

  ‘I thought we could have a night in. I’ve got some wine and I can order a takeaway.’ He stepped back and frowned. ‘What’s up, angel?’

  ‘Nothing,’ I said in a tone that clearly meant ‘something’.

  ‘Callie…?’

  ‘Well, it’s just that you promised we’d go out somewhere nice for once.’

  Tony took my hands. ‘It’s Monday. Who goes out on a Monday night?’

  ‘But you said…’

  ‘I’m tired too. I’ve driven miles today.’

  Tony’s job took him all over the country looking at care homes to add to his company’s portfolio and finding suitable sites for new ones. It was how we met. He’d visited Bay View last summer but one of the residents keeled over with a heart attack shortly after he arrived and I was the only staff member available to give Tony the tour while the She-Devil dealt with the emergency. ‘No flirting, Carolyn,’ she’d hissed. ‘He’s a professional and I expect you to try and behave l
ike one in front of him.’ And I did. It’s not my fault that I have a naturally friendly, bubbly personality that older men seem drawn towards. Thank God it had been Maria who discovered us in the laundry room together and not the She-Devil or I’d have been sacked on the spot.

  I looked into Tony’s hazel eyes and had to concede that he did look shattered. ‘Okay. A night in it is. I bought some new underwear, but if you’re really that exhausted…’

  His eyes lit up and he kissed me again. ‘Not that exhausted,’ he murmured. ‘Come on. Let’s get you home.’

  Tony wrapped his strong arms around me an hour or so later. I backed up against his chest as he kissed the top of my head. ‘I didn’t get to show you my new underwear,’ I whispered.

  ‘Next time. Besides, I prefer this look.’ He lifted the duvet up and whistled appreciatively. ‘Yep, I definitely prefer the natural look.’

  ‘Stop it! You’re embarrassing me.’

  ‘There’s nobody here except the two of us. Unless Sir Teddington has suddenly come to life and turned into a voyeur.’ He indicated my childhood teddy sat on the bedside cabinet. ‘Because, if he has, we can put on a better show for him than we’ve just done. Really give him his money’s worth.’ He began circling his hands over my breasts. My body arched at his teasing touch.

  ‘Tony! It’s half nine. I’ve only had a sandwich all day. Shouldn’t we get something to eat?’

  ‘The only thing I’m hungry for is you.’ He lightly ran his right hand down the curve of my stomach.

  ‘I mean it. I’m starving.’

  ‘Food can wait. It’s not like you’re wasting away, is it?’

  I stiffened. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I was a size sixteen and proud of my curves. A physical job and a love of swimming kept me toned but this wasn’t the first time Tony had made a comment suggesting I was fat rather than curvaceous. Feeling irritated, I flicked his arms off me and wriggled out of the bed.

  ‘What’s up?’ The surprised look on his face suggested he really hadn’t a clue.

  ‘I need the loo.’ I grabbed my robe off the wardrobe door and scuttled through the living area towards the tiny bathroom.

  Chewing on my thumbnail as I sat on the toilet, I replayed the conversation. He hadn’t actually called me fat and it was the sort of comment I’d normally have brushed aside as a joke, so why had it got to me just now? Was my irritation less to do with the comment and more to do with another broken promise around going out? Not that I was complaining about how we’d spent the evening – he certainly knew what he was doing – but surely after eleven months we should be developing more as a couple? I was no expert, having never made it past three months before – but wouldn’t a normal couple have developed common interests during that time that weren’t just confined to the bedroom? Or the sofa. Or the shower.

  I looked at myself in the mirror as I washed my hands. My thick shoulder-length dark hair was sticking up in all directions. I grabbed a brush and tried to tame it, but to no avail. I sighed. I was going to have to say something to Tony, but I’d never had to have ‘the talk’ before and the thought of being all serious wasn’t appealing.

  When I returned to the living area, Tony was fully-dressed and fastening his shoelaces. He’s finally going out for food. Yippee! My stomach growled on cue.

  He straightened up but didn’t smile. ‘I’ve got a meeting in Manchester first thing so I’m going to head over there now.’

  My stomach churned. ‘You’re not staying?’

  ‘Not tonight. No.’

  ‘But I thought…’

  He picked up his laptop and overnight bag. ‘You thought what?’

  ‘I thought you were staying. You brought your bag in.’

  He shrugged. ‘I was, but I’ve changed my mind about the early start. I’d rather drive to Manchester now.’

  ‘But you said you’re tired. And you haven’t eaten.’ I wrapped my arms around him and gently kissed his neck, eager to get him back onside. ‘Why don’t we get food delivered and have an early night?’

  He stepped back and hitched his bag onto his shoulder. ‘For God’s sake, what’s wrong with you tonight? Talk about high-maintenance. You want to go out. You don’t want sex. You want food. You want to stay in. You want to go back to bed. You’re doing my head in.’

  ‘I’m sorry. It’s just that—’

  Tony put his hand up to silence me. ‘I haven’t got time for this. I’ve got a long drive. Good night.’

  As the front door slammed a moment later, I wrapped my robe more tightly around my body and shivered. What the hell had just happened? Had I just been dumped? He hadn’t lost his temper like that since the incident in April and he’d certainly never walked out on me.

  2

  ‘How was your evening with your sugar daddy?’ Ruby asked the next morning as I called at her room with her medication.

  ‘Not good. I think I’ve been dumped.’

  ‘How can you think you’ve been dumped. You either have or you haven’t.’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t really understand what happened. He accused me of being high-maintenance and stormed out.’

  She shook her head. ‘You don’t need him, darling. When I was your age, I had six suitors on the go. One for each day of the week and Sunday off—’

  ‘To repent your sins?’

  Ruby laughed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘Goodness, no! Sunday was for whomever had pleased me best during the week. I wanted to spend my day off pleasurably.’

  ‘Are you not finished your rounds yet, Carolyn?’ The She-Devil’s pitchy voice bore into me, wiping the smile from my face.

  ‘Nearly.’

  ‘Nearly isn’t good enough. You should have finished ten minutes ago.’

  ‘It was my fault,’ Ruby said. ‘I had a funny turn. Callie had to help me out.’

  The She-Devil’s eyes bore into me. ‘Is this true?’

  I nodded and crossed my fingers behind my back. ‘Ruby went a bit dizzy.’

  She turned to Ruby. ‘You’re fine now?’

  ‘Yes. Much better. Callie was amazing as always. She’s such a gem.’

  I had to look away. The She-Devil would not have appreciated the compliment.

  ‘Yes, well, finish your rounds, Carolyn, then report to my office. One of the residents has only just advised us that they had an accident in the night. I’ll need you to strip their bed.’

  I could imagine the grin on her face as she sashayed down the corridor towards her office, delighted that I had a soggy mattress to deal with. Or worse. I bet she’d been saving that task especially for me, as usual. Cow.

  ‘Thanks for defending me, Ruby,’ I said.

  ‘Any time. Couldn’t have you dumped and sacked in the space of twenty-four hours, could we?’

  I smiled. ‘Will you be down for dominoes this afternoon?’

  ‘Of course. I need to beat that Iris Davies this week. I’m sure she’s cheating.’

  ‘She was the North Yorkshire Pub Dominoes Champion for a decade, Ruby.’

  ‘Yes. No doubt by cheating. I’m onto her.’ She pointed two fingers at her eyes, then flicked them away, then back again.

  ‘I’ll see you later.’ I laughed as I kicked the brake off the trolley and started to push it away.

  ‘Callie!’ she called. ‘If you really have parted company with your sugar daddy, you could always court my grandson, Rhys.’

  I turned to face her. The cheeky grin on her face matched her playful tone. ‘Would this be the illusive grandson who never visits?

  ‘It might be.’

  ‘Are you sure he exists?’

  She laughed as she tapped the side of her nose. ‘That’s for me to know and you to find out.’

  ‘See you for dominoes,’ I called as I set off down the corridor again. I wasn’t convinced Ruby had a grandson, mainly because she never spoke of children. The only photos in her rooms were black and white images from her own youth. She occasionally mentioned a grandson yet he
never seemed to show up. Either he was fiction or he was completely unreliable. I wasn’t sure which idea I preferred.

  ‘The She-Devil’s on the warpath,’ whispered Maria, stopping me in the corridor three days later.

  My heart sank. ‘With me? What have I done now?’

  ‘A delivery arrived that she thought was for her but was actually for you.’

  ‘What sort of delivery?’

  ‘A floral sort of delivery.’

  I grinned. ‘Tony?’

  ‘Presumably. I told you he’d get over his childish little man-strop and come grovelling.’

  I hoped that was the case. I’d texted him and left a couple of messages – careful not to bombard him – but he hadn’t responded.

  ‘Why’s she on the warpath?’ I asked. ‘Aren’t we allowed deliveries?’

  ‘It’s not that. Pete was in reception when they arrived. Apparently it’s her wedding anniversary today so she assumed they were from Mr She-Devil.’

  ‘Awk-ward!’

  Maria continued on her way and I headed towards the front of the building where Denise’s office was positioned behind the reception desk. Had Tony really sent me flowers? He’d never done that before which meant he must be feeling really guilty about his behaviour. Good.