Finding Home

by Kate Field

  ‘I’ll take it.’

  ‘You’re not bad looking, though you could do with making a bit more of yourself,’ Janet said. Mim held back a smile at this damning appraisal. Should she buy herself a rabbit fleece? ‘Howie is short staffed in the pub. What about the same nights in the bar, seven til close, if he’s happy to take you on?’

  ‘That would be great. Thanks.’ Better than great. They would be long days but Mim was used to that. She’d rarely been off duty when she’d worked in the hotel with Gordon. Four days on the hours Janet had offered was a week’s worth of regular work. It was a start, and she might be able to find other work for the free days. ‘How much will you pay?’ she asked.

  ‘Minimum wage. You’ll find me a fair employer.’

  Mim wasn’t convinced of that yet, given Janet’s reaction to the little boy, but as long as she was paid on time for the hours she worked, she was sure she could put up with Janet’s quirks. Janet was blunt, but Mim didn’t mind that. She could be blunt herself. Perhaps they would get on in time. ‘Is there any staff discount?’

  ‘Five per cent off purchases over £30 in the shop, excluding alcohol. I know how to look after my staff. I’ll always reward hard work.’

  It wasn’t a tempting offer, but Mim still left the shop thrilled with the outcome of the encounter with Janet. She couldn’t believe how her luck had changed in the course of a few days. She had somewhere to stay and she had a job. There was only one thing missing: somewhere to swim. It was her one indulgence, the only break she had regularly taken at the hotel. Powering through the water made her feel strong and in control, made her feel equal to everyone else, as if the past couldn’t touch her. She couldn’t manage without it. She glanced towards Corin who was strolling at her side, an amused smile on his face.

  ‘Are there any swimming pools nearby?’ she asked. ‘Cheap ones, I mean. Council owned – I don’t want a fancy gym. I just want to swim.’

  ‘You like swimming?’ Corin’s smile widened. ‘The nearest pool is in Sidmouth but there is a cheaper option.’

  ‘Is there? What’s that?’

  Corin pointed down the path that was signposted to the beach and Mim headed that way. The cobbled path ran between a high wall then turned abruptly to the left where it met the beach. Dickens ran off without a backward glance, tearing along the beach and occasionally jumping up and barking at nothing. Mim wasn’t so sure-footed. She took a few tentative steps onto the pebbles that made up the ground between the land and the sea, slipping and sliding and stumbling on the unfamiliar terrain under her feet. It wasn’t what she had expected.

  ‘What sort of beach is this?’ she asked. ‘Shouldn’t there be sand?’

  Corin smiled.

  ‘This is part of the Jurassic Coast. Many of the beaches are shingle along here. The geology is incredible. There’s over 185 million years of history along the coast, from the Triassic, Jurassic, and Cretaceous periods. It’s a fascinating place to live.’

  He certainly looked enthusiastic but Mim hadn’t understood half of what he’d said.

  ‘Sorry.’ He laughed. ‘I don’t suppose you’re interested. What do you think of this? Is it a big enough swimming pool for you?’

  He gestured across the sweep of the bay. Behind them, the land rose steeply on both sides of the village, creating tall cliffs that jutted out towards the sea in the distance, forming the crescent shape of the beach. In front of them, the sea was a shimmering expanse of grey that merged into the sky on the horizon.

  ‘It’s magnificent,’ Mim said. She walked down to the edge of the shore and dipped her hand down to an incoming wave. She took it out again quickly. ‘It’s freezing!’

  ‘It’s not for the faint-hearted,’ Corin said. ‘Perhaps you’d be better in a proper pool.’

  ‘No. This will be perfect. I’m not a soft southerner,’ Mim said with a grin. ‘I’m tough enough to cope with some cold water.’

  ‘After seeing the way you handled Janet, I think you probably are.’ Corin smiled at her. ‘Ask Mum if you can borrow a wetsuit. She’ll have a stack of our old ones somewhere. And don’t go out on your own – at least until you’re used to it. It’s quite a different experience to swim with the current and the waves. Try asking Lia. She’s rarely busy.’

  Mim nodded, without much intention of following his advice. She didn’t need a minder. She’d survived far worse than a few waves and pebbles underfoot. She wandered along the shore, her cheeks stinging with the cold, and stopped occasionally to scoop up stones and to admire how smooth they were and how much variety there was in the colours and shapes on close inspection. She’d expected the beach to be the yellow sand she’d seen in photographs and on television but she wasn’t disappointed. The raw, natural beauty of this place tugged at her heart in a way she couldn’t explain.

  She looked up from a curious, heart-shaped stone and found Corin was studying her, while Dickens raced back towards him with a stick.

  ‘Do you think you’ll stay here?’ he asked.

  ‘For now,’ she said. ‘If I can pass Janet’s two week trial.’

  ‘There’s no reason for you to go back to Lancashire? No family or friends pulling you back?’

  ‘No. It’s up to me where I go.’

  ‘You’re lucky.’

  He spoke the words so quietly that Mim thought she must have misheard him. His earlier enthusiasm was gone, replaced by a sigh of resignation so that for a moment he was once again the man under the shadows of the trees on New Year’s Eve. But he wasn’t that man and the connection that Mim had imagined between them had never really existed. How could he say that she was lucky? He had the dream life, as far as she could see. Family. A home. Stability. Money. Everything she had craved throughout her life.

  ‘It’s a curious definition of luck to have no one and nothing,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t wish it on you.’ She slipped the stone into her pocket. ‘Can you tell me the way back now?’

  Chapter Five

  It was almost a disappointment when Mim wasn’t woken by a member of the Howard family the next morning. Almost a disaster too: if it had been Thursday, she would have been late for work, she realised, as she grabbed her watch and noticed that it was after nine-thirty. She had the feeling that Janet wouldn’t tolerate unpunctuality. It answered her question about what she should do today. Shopping would have to be her top priority, and an alarm clock was now added to her mental list.

  Despite the late hour, she stretched out like a starfish, enjoying the luxury of a proper bed. A double bed too – she’d only had a single in the hotel, in a room squashed up in the eaves that had been too poky to rent out to guests. It might have been tiny, but that room had been the world to her for the ten years she’d stayed in it. She had knocked on the kitchen door of the hotel one teatime, weary and ragged after a day of fruitlessly begging for work, and found that she had called at the perfect time. Gordon’s waitress had resigned that morning, his chef had called in sick, and he had been juggling every job himself. Mim had donned an apron, washed her hands and winged her way through the hardest shift of her life. By the end of the night, Gordon had offered her a job and a room, and the next day she had packed up her few possessions and left the hostel she’d been staying in. She’d spent the subsequent ten years repaying his kindness and his faith in her by working until she was exhausted and refusing a wage most months to help keep the hotel afloat. She’d never imagined that it would come to such an abrupt end.

  Mim wiped away the tears that memories of Gordon provoked, even four months on. He’d taught her never to look back and that everyone was entitled to be judged on what they did today, not on the past. She wasn’t going to waste another minute. She jumped out of bed, endured a quick, lukewarm shower, and dressed in the warmest jumper she owned; despite Bea’s encouragement, she was still reluctant to use the fire, at least until she started paying some rent. She found a pen and pad of paper in a drawer and began a thorough inspection of the caravan. She hadn’t paid much atte
ntion to the details over the last few days, when it had only been a roof over her head. Now she was going to stay, she would look at it with a new perspective.

  It was a great space – the largest place she’d ever had to herself. The main external door was on the side of the caravan, and it opened into an open-plan living area, with a dining table, a television and a built-in L-shaped sofa that ran along the wall and under a large bay window at the front. One part of the room contained a compact kitchen, equipped with everything Mim could need. The rear half of the caravan was divided into a double bedroom with small en-suite, a twin bedroom and a family bathroom.

  It had probably once been smart, as the upholstery and soft furnishings looked to be in a quality fabric in tonal shades of beige. Close inspection revealed the signs of neglect. Dust covered every surface, save for patches where Mim’s movements had wiped it clean. There was a stain down one wall where water had leaked in from somewhere and there were some black patches of mould on the sofa fabric and on the lining of the curtains. There were green marks around the sinks and taps, and enormous cobwebs filled almost every corner. Mim wasn’t daunted by any of it. It was hers. It was safe. It certainly wasn’t the worst place she’d ever stayed. She settled down at the dining table and made a list of all the shopping she needed, with tea bags and milk topping the list and cleaning products filling the rest of it. Now all she needed to do was find a shop, as she had no intention of paying Janet’s prices, even with the five per cent staff discount.

  She wandered up to Vennhallow and was surprised when Bea answered the door herself; she’d half expected that they might have a butler to do that.

  ‘Mim. Perfect timing,’ Bea said, standing back and waving at her to enter. ‘I was about to have morning tea, so you can keep me company. I’ve been abandoned.’

  Mim followed Bea through the hall, where the Christmas tree was in the process of being dismantled, past the entrance to the kitchen and into a cosy room overlooking the garden at the back of the house. A log burner was blazing in the fireplace and Mim gravitated towards it while she studied the rest of the room. Like the kitchen, it was decorated in a modern style and looked recently refurbished. A sapphire-blue velvet sofa ran along the length of one wall, and two patterned armchairs were arranged next to a coffee table near the fire. It was all done with exquisite taste and, Mim guessed, an eye-watering amount of money. As she was admiring it all, a lady in a brown housecoat carried in a tray and set it down on the table.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Dennis. That looks lovely, as always.’ Bea sat down on one of the armchairs and gestured for Mim to take the other one. ‘Tea? Help yourself to cake.’

  Mim didn’t need telling twice. As well as a teapot and two cups and saucers, the tray also contained a platter containing slices of fruit cake, lemon drizzle cake, and what looked like homemade shortbread fingers. She started on a slice of fruit cake while Bea poured the tea.

  ‘Are Lia and Olly not here?’ Mim asked.

  ‘No, Olly lives in London and headed home after breakfast. He’s a lawyer and carries out pro bono work,’ Bea replied. Mim had no idea what that meant, but nodded anyway. ‘Lia went with him. She’s going to spend a couple of days shopping before flying off to the Maldives with the girls. It’s beautiful at this time of year. We were there last winter but couldn’t risk going long haul this year with Bill’s health as it is.’

  ‘Isn’t he well?’ He looked hale and hearty enough to Mim, but then she remembered on New Year’s Day how Lia had fussed over his diet.

  ‘Oh, he had a scare six months ago, and worried us all senseless,’ Bea said, picking up a biscuit. Her hand trembled. ‘It’s time he remembered he’s not as young as he was and stepped back. Thank goodness Corin’s come home to take over. I don’t know what we’d do without him.’ She smiled and made light of it, but Mim could see the worry was still close behind the surface. She wasn’t surprised. She’d seen with Gordon how quickly an apparently active man could be cut down.

  ‘Enough of that,’ Bea continued. ‘Let’s not spoil our tea. Did you come over for anything special, my dear?’

  ‘Only to see if you had a map I could borrow.’

  ‘A map? Oh Mim, you’ve not decided to go home after all, have you? I hope you haven’t had second thoughts about Janet. Corin said you handled her wonderfully well.’

  ‘No, I just need to go shopping and I don’t want to get lost,’ Mim said.

  ‘Oh, you don’t need to bother with that. Waitrose delivers.’

  Mim chose a piece of lemon drizzle.

  ‘I can’t afford Waitrose,’ she said.

  ‘Ah yes, I didn’t think.’ Bea sipped her tea. ‘Well, I’m sure there must be some other supermarkets in Sidmouth. Ask Mrs Dennis. She’ll know the best places to go. But don’t buy any vegetables. The garden produces more than enough for everyone.’

  ‘I couldn’t—’

  ‘Nonsense.’ Bea cut off the protest. ‘Bobby delivers a box to all the family. I’ll ask him to add the caravan to his list.’ She leant forward as Mim picked up a biscuit. ‘Forgive me for asking, my dear, but you did have breakfast this morning, didn’t you?’

  ‘No. But I will do, once I’ve been shopping.’ Mim couldn’t wait. She’d longed for a bowl of warm porridge every morning when she woke up in the car. Tomorrow she would have some and it would seem like the biggest treat in the world. Bea reached over and gave her hand a brief squeeze.

  ‘Make sure you do. Come over for supper tonight. Mrs Dennis is making a casserole and there will be far too much for the two of us. You must come. We don’t want you wasting away.’

  Armed with an old road map from Bea and directions to the nearest discount supermarket from Mrs Dennis, Mim spent the next few hours eking out what cash she could spare on basic food rations and essential cleaning products. She then cleaned the caravan from top to bottom, until every cobweb and speck of dust was gone and every surface sparkled. It was good to get stuck into some hard work again, after too many idle days living out of her car.

  After a day of physical labour, she woke up the next morning longing to have a swim, to loosen her muscles and free her thoughts. It was Thursday tomorrow, her first day working for Janet, and the long shift in the shop and the pub would leave her with no time to swim for the next four days. Corin had advised her to take Lia, but that was impossible now that Lia had gone off on holiday. She looked out of the big bay window at the front of the caravan. It was a grey but dry day, and the branches of the trees in the field were barely moving. There wasn’t even the hint of a storm, as far as she could tell. She was a strong swimmer. She’d be perfectly safe on her own, wouldn’t she?

  Twenty minutes later, she was on the beach, shivering in a towel and wondering whether she should have listened to Corin’s suggestion that she borrow a wetsuit. Her old swimming costume offered little protection from the cold air that grazed her bare shoulders and sent goose bumps racing up her legs. There was more of a breeze down here on the shore than she’d anticipated and she watched the sea for a few minutes, trying to assess the size and strength of the waves, but without much idea. It wasn’t calm but it didn’t seem rough either. There was only one way to find out.

  She packed the towel in the bag with her clothes, hoping that no one would steal her car keys, and picked her way over the stones to the water’s edge. An incoming wave licked her toes and she shuddered at the temperature of the water, but it spurred her on; the sooner she was swimming, the sooner she would warm up. She clenched her fists and waded forward, gasping as the waves hit her thighs, until the water reached her waist and she ducked down and started swimming.

  It wasn’t like the swimming she’d been used to at the leisure centre in Burnley, and not only because the water was so cold. It was strange to taste the salt as the water touched her lips, rather than the chlorine. She felt more buoyant here than she did in the swimming pool too. The waves were stronger than they had appeared from the beach, and tried to buffet her back to the shore.
She swam on, parallel to the beach, relishing the challenge and the feeling of power that came with each stroke forward. She loved every second. She had never felt more alive.

  Then, as she paused and looked back to see if it was time to turn round, a sharp spasm of cramp pulled at the calf muscle in her right leg. She doubled over and a fierce wave caught her off guard, splashing over her head and into her ears. She scrabbled to put her feet down, but she was further out than she’d realised and slipped forward, swallowing a mouthful of water, before another large wave rushed over her back, pushing her down below the surface. She kicked her left leg and fought to reach the surface again, but her throat was burning with the sea water, her lungs were straining with the effort of not breathing, and as her limbs tired, she felt herself sinking lower down rather than rising up. Everything started to turn black.

  She couldn’t hold her breath for a second longer. She had no energy left to kick. This was it. The glorious new life she’d glimpsed here, the promise of a future so much brighter than her past, was over before it had begun. But as the panic faded away and Mim was filled with a peaceful acceptance of her fate, she felt a tug across her shoulders. Her head breached the water and she gasped in huge gulps of air as she was towed back to the beach and deposited on the pebbles.

  Mim lay still for a moment, relishing the discomfort of the stones jabbing her bottom and the backs of her legs. Discomfort was good. Discomfort meant she was alive. Then coughs wracked her body, and she rolled over and threw up.

  ‘That’s good. Get it all out.’ It was a female voice and the words were followed by a gentle pat on the back. Mim opened her eyes. A woman wearing a wetsuit was standing over her. She was aged around fifty and her chin-length hair was slicked back with water.

  ‘Thank you,’ Mim said, but she was overtaken by another bout of coughing before she could say more.