The Little B & B at Cove End

by Linda Mitchelmore

  Cara let her sentence trail away. But Mae finished it for her.

  ‘Since Dad died. It’s been, like, two years now and it seems like yesterday sometimes, and when I got back from the library, expecting Rosie to be here, and found a strange man in the kitchen, it sort of threw me all over again. I’m not doing very well with this B&B stuff, Mum, really I’m not. So … so, I’m going to ring about a job later. Weekends for the moment but I might get more once school’s broken up. In the ice-cream kiosk on the harbour. It said “would suit student” on the notice in the window so seeing as that’s what I am, I’m going to ring and see if I suit.’ She waggled her phone at Cara. ‘The number’s in here.’

  ‘Oh,’ Cara said. She hadn’t quite been expecting that. ‘That’s … that’s great.’

  ‘Once more with feeling,’ Mae said, unable to stop a grin lighting up the seriousness of her pretty face.

  ‘I know. Sorry. It’s a surprise, that’s all. I was going to ask if you’d like to help with the B&B guests. A bit of vacuuming, and sorting the laundry, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ Mae said. ‘That’s your little enterprise. Actually, I think I’ll ring now.’

  Mae waggled the phone at Cara again.

  ‘It’s a bit early. It’s only just gone eight. And you’ve got to get to school.’

  Mae shrugged her shoulders.

  ‘Either they want my brilliant help or they don’t.’ Mae pulled herself up tall, ran a hand through her hair. But she put her phone back in her pocket. ‘I’ll do it on the way to school. That’s a joke, by the way, about my brilliant help. Although it can’t be hard selling ice-cream. It isn’t astrophysics, is it? Anyway, if I don’t get it, I’ll try for something else. In a café or something. Just … you know, so you know.’

  And just so you’re out of the house when we have guests here, Cara wanted to add but didn’t.

  ‘Okay. And to paraphrase, just so you know, you know, I’m proud of your enterprise in doing this.’

  ‘Yeah sure,’ Mae said, giving Cara an awkward hug.

  They hadn’t done enough hugging lately – each in their own little bubble of grief and loss at the change in their lives, no doubt.

  Cara hugged her back.

  ‘There should be guests here when you get back. Three. Just for the one night,’ she said quickly, now she and Mae were so physically close. She didn’t want Mae to get back from school and give the guests the same welcome she’d given Ian because she was surprised to find them there.

  But Mae pulled away.

  ‘Right,’ she said.

  How, Cara wondered, did Mae manage to use the word ‘right’ and yet imbue it with the absolute opposite meaning? This was all anything but right for Mae. But it had to be done.

  ‘Okay to pop in your room and get the black and white dress?’ Cara said as an idea popped into her head that might make Mae feel better about things. ‘I’ll have a go at mending it.’

  ‘Not sure it’s worth repairing,’ Mae said. ‘It’s lost its happy memories for me. And, well, I’m growing out of it anyway. It’s a bit short in the waist now, and everything. Once I’ve earned a bit of money selling ice-cream or whatever, I can cadge a lift off Rosie and go into Totnes and look for another in the vintage shop.’

  Ah, so Rosie’s got her uses, then? Not just the interfering godmother Mae often said she was.

  Cara smiled. ‘Good idea.’

  ‘Right,’ Mae said. ‘Actually I’ve changed my mind. I’ll ring about the job now. I might not get a chance if Abby or someone tags along with me on the way to the bus. In my room.’

  And suddenly she didn’t look as confident as she had a few moments ago as she headed for the door.

  ‘Mum,’ Mae said, coming out of her room a few minutes later, as Cara crossed the landing, ‘I’ve got an interview! After school. Just as soon as I can get down to the harbour.’

  ‘Wow! That was quick. Well done.’

  Mae was holding her damaged frock in her arms, all bundled up like a pile of old rags, which made Cara feel sad because Mae had always taken the greatest care of all her clothes but especially of that dress. She thrust the frock at Cara. ‘Does this go for recycling, or what? It’s not good enough now for a charity shop.’ She sighed. ‘Anyway, I’m wasting time. Gotta go.’

  Cara held out her hands to take the frock. Whilst Mae had accepted Josh’s apology and was still seeing him, it seemed the frock would only serve to remind her of a bad time.

  ‘It’s lovely material, Mae,’ Cara said. ‘Maybe I could turn it into something else?’

  ‘Cleaning rags?’ Mae said. She leaned in to kiss Cara goodbye.

  ‘Cleaning rags?’

  ‘Don’t look so cross, Mum! That was a joke! Yours to do with whatever.’ Mae planted a noisy kiss on Cara’s cheek, Cara returning the gesture with a gentler one. Getting a job interview had certainly lifted her daughter’s mood.

  ‘Good luck,’ Cara said. ‘With the job.’

  And then Mae was hurtling down the stairs, dressed in a cerise sundress with a scooped neckline and a full skirt, all cinched in with a fabric belt. Dress down Friday. Mae’s hair was tied back in a high ponytail with a cerise ribbon and Cara couldn’t help thinking she looked like an extra from Dirty Dancing – young and vibrant and full of hope. Mae got a lot of stick over her clothes choice, Cara knew that. All the other girls in Mae’s year would be in jeans or leggings and whatever top was the fashion of the moment, and Cara was just so proud of her daughter for sticking to her choices.

  ‘Oh, Mark,’ Cara whispered to herself as she watched Mae leave, ‘you would have been so proud of your little girl.’

  She cradled the old, discarded, frock in her arms like a baby, and knew exactly what she would do with it now. The memory of the dress might have turned sour for Mae at the moment, but there would come a time when her daughter would remember it with love.

  Chapter Ten

  The morning passed quickly, Cara making a full inventory of the linen cupboard and all her crockery. She managed to get a small round table that had been in her bedroom for ages and which she didn’t use much down into the breakfast room. It would be big enough for a couple to sit at and there’d be enough room to go with the table that was already there. There were half a dozen fold-up wooden garden chairs in the garage that would be fine for people to sit on for the short time it took to eat breakfast. She got them out and gave them a good scrub, and put them outside on the back terrace to dry off in the sunshine. Then she remembered that there was also a folding wooden garden table at the back of the garage under a tarpaulin. With a cloth on it, that would make a table to seat four at a push. It was a huge effort half carrying, half dragging it into the house, but she managed.

  After lunch she checked on the bedrooms her guests would be using, opening the windows to air them a little. They were due to arrive at about four o’ clock, leaving plenty of time to get other things done like iron tablecloths and put posies of flowers on the bedside tables.

  ‘There,’ Cara said, as she put the finishing touches to the tables in the breakfast room, the cloths now ironed to within an inch of their lives. She’d never usually been one for using tablecloths, but hadn’t felt able to throw out what had been well-meaning wedding presents from neighbours when she and Mark had got married – one of them had never been taken out of its cellophane wrapping. She was glad she’d kept them all now. ‘Table mats next. Drinks’ coasters.’ More unused wedding presents being put to good use.

  Suddenly Cara was looking forward to having people around, someone new to talk to, with stories to tell perhaps. Things that would put a stop to her talking to herself out of loneliness anyway!

  And then the doorbell rang. Only three o’ clock. They were early. She hurried to the door.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, opening the door, a smile pinned to her face, which she hoped would mask the nervousness she was feeling inside. ‘I thought there was three of you?’

  A very wel
l-dressed couple stood on Cara’s doorstep.

  ‘I’m sorry?’ the woman said. ‘I don’t think you’re expecting us. We’ve just called on spec. Do you have a room free by any chance?’ the man asked.

  ‘Well, um,’ Cara began. There was the room she’d got ready for Tom Gasson-Smith. If they only wanted to stop the one night, they could use that, and she’d have to have a quick turnaround for Tom. ‘How long for?’

  ‘Just the one night if it’s not too much trouble,’ the woman said. She didn’t look best pleased at Cara’s less than effusive welcome.

  ‘It’s no trouble,’ Cara said quickly. ‘I was just thrown for a moment because I’ve got three guests booked in for tonight. But, please, do come in.’ She would have to get used to this sort of thing – people calling ‘on spec’ as the saying had it – whatever that meant. She threw the door open wider. ‘Welcome to Cove End. I’m Cara.’

  ‘Kate and Andrew,’ the young woman said. ‘We can bring our luggage in in a minute, now we know you can put us up.’

  ‘Hi Kate. Hi Andrew.’

  There was an awkward moment of handshakes – to whom did she offer her hand first, Andrew or Kate? Was there etiquette for all this? There was a flutter of butterflies in her stomach, probably because she felt that she hadn’t prepared properly for this venture, but then she chided herself that this was hardly Buckingham Palace and Kate and Andrew weren’t visiting dignitaries, were they?

  ‘I’ll show you to your room, and then make tea. You can come down and join me when you’re ready.’ Cara was aware her voice sounded stiff and stilted, as though she’d rehearsed her one line for an infant school play and just delivered it. ‘Follow me.’

  ‘Oh, this is lovely,’ Kate said. She ran a long, slim hand with exquisitely manicured nails over the pristine white duvet with its broderie anglais trim. ‘I love white. You can see that it’s clean, if you get my meaning.’

  Cara thought the young woman sounded nervous. She thought about asking why they’d arrived on spec for just the one night but decided not to. There could be a million reasons and Cara’s mind went into overdrive thinking about them: two lovers, escaped from their marriages for a night of love; one of them had been given bad news and they’d come away from home to digest it and plan how to tell their families; they’d started a course of IVF and come away to relax so it had its best chance of success.

  ‘Um, come and look at the view,’ Cara said, suddenly aware there was a silence in the room and she ought to fill it. She hoped neither Andrew nor Kate were mind readers. She strode to the window and pulled the curtains back as far as she could.

  Kate and Andrew were right behind her.

  ‘Lovely indeed,’ Kate said. ‘Will you mind if we take photos? The room? The garden.’

  ‘Nothing invasive,’ Andrew said. ‘For our vlog.’

  Vlog? Cara had heard of vlogs although she’d never looked at one, and the fact that this couple might have one hadn’t been one of the scenarios she’d thought of.

  ‘Are you from Trip Advisor?’ she asked, not that she’d object if they were because she knew that recommendations and reviews were the way forward for this sort of business.

  ‘No,’ Andrew laughed. ‘Not quite in that league, but we do have followers.’

  Andrew didn’t offer figures so Cara didn’t ask. She was feeling uneasy and excited in equal measure at the thought of maybe thousands of people seeing her B&B on Kate and Andrew’s vlog and wanting to come and stay.

  ‘My daughter,’ she said. ‘She’s not here at the moment, but I’d appreciate it if you don’t take any photos of her, not even in the distance coming up the path or anything.’ Cara couldn’t be sure if Mae would welcome the idea of a vlog with open arms as she was the generation brought up on technology, or whether she would hate the intrusion.

  ‘Of course not,’ Kate assured her. ‘Don’t worry. It’s not just Cove End we’ve come to see and take videos of. We’re promoting the area for the visitor trade. I hear there’s an art festival coming up. Have I got that right?’

  ‘There is. In August. I’ve got a flyer for it somewhere.’

  ‘Great!’ Kate said.

  ‘I’ll find it and you can do whatever you want with it when you come down for your tea.’

  ‘Ah yes, tea,’ Kate said. She looked around the room as though searching for something. ‘I think we’d rather have tea here. What do you think, Andrew?’ Andrew gave a sort of shrug as if to say he didn’t mind, but it was up to Kate. ‘Hospitality tray?’ she went on. ‘Have you got it hidden in a closet somewhere?’

  Oh God! Cara hadn’t given hospitality trays a thought. She’d assumed her guests would be happy to use the breakfast room, which had a couch in it and a view of the side garden. She thought fast. What went on a hospitality tray? Tea, coffee, cocoa. Possibly decaffeinated varieties and some herbal teas. Sachets of sugar. Those silly little pots of milk that ripped your nails off trying to open them. Where would she source those? Meg Smythson certainly didn’t stock them in the corner shop. Biscuits. Kettle.

  ‘I’ll bring it right up,’ she said. But best to come clean. ‘There’s nothing decaffeinated at the moment, but I could run to the corner shop and get whatever you want.’ What was she saying! She’d already been caught out once doing that, although she didn’t think this couple were anything like the Hines had been.

  ‘No need,’ Kate said. ‘A caffeine fix is what we both need after the journey.’

  ‘Great,’ Cara said.

  ‘But that’s something you’ll need to address for future guests,’ Kate said, smiling, not appearing to judge it as a bad mark against Cara. ‘Just a tip.’

  ‘Thanks for that.’

  Cara scurried from the room.

  In the kitchen she quickly found a tray, some dishes in which to put sugar and biscuits, and a small jug for the milk. She put tea bags into a pretty tin she’d not had the heart to throw away but had had no use for until now. A jar of coffee granules would have to do for the moment.

  ‘Phew!’ she said to herself, as she carried it all back up to her guests. ‘Learning on the job or what?’

  Half an hour later and Kate and Andrew were on their way out again, taking advantage, they said, of the lovely day and the light evenings. They’d have a mooch about and find a pub somewhere for supper. Cara gave them a spare key so they could let themselves in later, and then they were gone.

  Cara checked her phone to see if Mae had texted to say if she’d got the job or not. And then the doorbell rang again.

  Of course. Her expected guests. She hurried to let them in.

  ‘Welcome to Cove End,’ she said, opening the door.

  Three people. She’d got it right this time. Two men and a woman, and all carrying backpacks and dressed in serious walking gear, not exactly camouflage but not far off. All had binoculars around their necks. She had a stab at guessing their ages and came up with early retired. Sixties anyway.

  ‘Thank you,’ the taller of the two men said. ‘I’m Eric and this is my wife, Sheila. And this bundle of trouble is my brother, Frank.’

  More handshakes, more entreaties to come in; they were welcome; she would make tea after she’d shown them to their rooms. She was getting good at this.

  She’d even had time to put hospitality trays in their rooms this time. Decaffeinated anything would have to wait until she had time to nip down to Meg Smythson’s and see what might be available. Thank goodness she’d asked Rosie to stop off at a supermarket because she did at least have enough bread and breakfast essentials.

  ‘No need,’ Eric said. ‘We’ll just drop our gear in our rooms, if that’s all right with you, and then we’ll be off out again. This time of day is perfect for seeing peregrine falcons returning to their roosts and apparently there are at least three nesting pairs on Elberry cliffs.’

  Ah, twitchers.

  ‘Perfectly fine,’ Cara said. ‘There’s a short cut to the coastal path,’ she told them. ‘There’s a slipway between the
two end houses.’ She pointed in the direction they needed to go.

  ‘Perfect,’ Sheila said.

  ‘Your key,’ Cara said, taking the second, and last, spare key from the hook beside the front door. She’d have to get more cut at this rate.

  ‘Ideally, we’d like breakfast at seven,’ Frank said. ‘Wouldn’t we?’ He turned questioningly to his brother and sister-in-law.

  ‘Told you he was a bundle of trouble,’ Eric laughed. ‘But if you could oblige, Cara?’

  She could. She would. Cara was used to being up early to get Mae off to school, although she wasn’t in the habit of cooking a full English breakfast.

  ‘No problem,’ Cara said.

  She’d be the perfect landlady if it killed her!

  But first, once these twitchers had gone back out again, she rushed to finish the project she’d started with the fabric of Mae’s dress. She ought to be back by now, but at least it was giving her a bit of time to put her daughter at the forefront of what she was doing instead of looking after B&B guests. Ah, the front door, and Mae coming in dropping her school bag with a thud in the hall as usual.

  ‘Mum!’

  ‘In here, darling,’ Cara called back. She’d have to ask Mae not to do that when guests were around – leave her stuff lying about all over the place for people to trip over.

  ‘Mum, I …’ Mae began. ‘What the heck is that?’

  ‘Your old frock.’ She held up the pieces of fabric she’d been stitching together. ‘Now a cushion cover. It’s been a bit of a rush to get it done because, well, wait for it, but we’ve got not just three guests but five now. Can you believe it? Kate and Andrew arrived on spec. They’re doing some sort of vlog. Then there’s Eric and Sheila and Eric’s brother, Frank. Three twitchers – quirky, but nice with it. They want breakfast at seven so a bit of an early start, but hey, it has to be done now we’re in business. All five have gone out. I’m going to have to catch Kate and Andrew when they get back and ask what time they want to eat. Oh, and I’m going to have to ask you not to dump your stuff in the hall when you come in, darling. Not when we’ve got guests anyway.’ Cara turned the cushion cover the right way out, checked the zip worked. She teased out the frill she’d made, then reached for the cushion pad and put the cover on. Perfect. Yes, she was pretty pleased with that. She looked up. ‘What do you think?’