The Corner Shop in Cockleberry Bay_A heartwarming laugh out loud romantic comedy

by Nicola May

  Her longest relationship had been when she was sixteen: she’d met Sam Everett in the local sixth form college. They were together two years. Rosa didn’t really know what love felt like, but she knew that whatever they had had at that time, felt nice. Sam had professed his undying love for her, even suggested they get married when he came back from university. But within a month of him being in Cardiff, he texted – yes, texted her - to say sorry, he had met someone else and they were finished.

  This, along with her abandonment issues from childhood, hadn’t boded well for her trust in men, so between Sam and meeting Greg, Rosa had had a series of one-night stands. Although they seemed like fun when you had a skinful of vodka, these encounters didn’t do much for her sense of self-worth.

  Luke handed her some change, saying, ‘I managed to get back without being spotted. Could see myself as the next James Bond, actually.’

  ‘I’d love to say I’d be your Moneypenny, but my budget is pretty small to get this started.’

  They both laughed, and with Hot barking at their heels, they wandered out to the back kitchen where Rosa put the dachshund’s food down for him. She cut a chunk of cucumber to give him later.

  ‘Hope you don’t mind but I got us this. Felt you deserved a little moving-in gift, even if you did buy it yourself.’ Like a magician, or Mr Bean producing a picnic, Luke pulled a bottle of Prosecco and some plastic glasses from his coat. He did the honours of pouring and he and Rosa did a pretend clink of their glasses.

  ‘Welcome to Cockleberry Bay Corner Shop,’ Luke said. ‘May you - and not forgetting Mr Sausage - be very happy here.’

  ‘Mr Sausage, I like that. And thanks, Luke, this is lovely.’

  Two glasses down and Rosa had begun to feel very relaxed.

  ‘Thanks again for helping me out so near to Christmas.’

  ‘Pleasure.’ He refilled Rosa’s glass. ‘So, I know I promised not to be nosy like all the others, but are you here to stay or are you just sorting the shop for someone else? Don’t take offence, but you seem really young to have been able to afford a place like this.’

  ‘I dare say I’ll be staying here - who knows. I have to make a success of it.’

  ‘For you or someone else?’ Luke persisted. He lit a cigarette without asking and took a deep drag.

  ‘Both.’

  ‘What are you going to sell?’

  ‘That’s the thing - I have no idea. I have no plan. I just got given the keys, and here I am.’

  ‘Given? See - I said you had a silver spoon in your mouth.’

  ‘It’s not like that. Somebody randomly left me it in their will and . . .’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me any more.’

  Luke looked directly into her eyes and Rosa felt herself staring right back into them. For some reason she already trusted him.

  ‘I want to,’ she told him. ‘You see, I don’t even know who left this place to me. I immediately thought I could just sell it, but I’m not allowed to by the terms of the will. When the time is right, I can hand it over to somebody who deserves it. That’s the deal.’

  ‘Well, don’t forget the plumber who sorted you out on Day One, now will you.’

  Rosa annoyingly felt herself blushing as they carried on munching on their sandwiches.

  With an empty bottle of Prosecco now in front of them, she hiccupped, ‘I can’t believe I’m supposed to be working today and now you’ve got me drunk. It’s true what they say about alcohol warming you up though.’

  ‘You’ve done a lot this morning, why not have a rest. You can do some more tomorrow. And I hate to say this, but the tourist trade doesn’t get going until Easter down here, so you do need to think of what the locals might want too.’

  ‘Hmm. Thanks for the advice. But come on, let’s go back in the shop and see if the radiators will have warmed it up now.’

  Luke wrapped the butt of his cigarette up in a sandwich container and followed Rosa and Hot.

  ‘Maybe you can help me to decide what would be good to sell here,’ she said. ‘I haven’t been around all the streets yet, but is there anything lacking here?’

  ‘My mum always says it would be nice to have somewhere she can go for fresh flowers and nice cards, if that’s any help?’

  ‘OK. I need to do some more research to appeal to the masses, I reckon, but that’s worth a thought at least.’

  It was lovely to feel some warmth at last. She flicked the light switch on and off three times. Light, shelter and warmth: it was a good start.

  ‘You’re a lucky girl. I’d give my right arm to have a place like this. I didn’t realise the flat was quite so lovely upstairs either. Thanks for showing me around. Right, what’s the time now?’

  ‘Nearly four.’

  ‘Shit, is it already? I’d better get going.’ Luke started to pack his tools away. He yawned. ‘I shouldn’t really be driving after that Prosecco, but as long as you don’t run anybody over around here, you can get away with murder.’

  CHAPTER 6

  Christmas Eve morning and Rosa awoke to the cries of seagulls circling the bay. Her mouth was dry and Hot was whimpering to be let out. She reached for her phone on the bedside table. Six-thirty.

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, boy, you must be desperate. What sort of mother am I?’

  She leapt out of bed and gently lifted him down. Then she pulled on a pair of joggers and an old jumper, reached for her jacket and pulled her hat over her mad curls. As it was so early, she didn’t bother with a bra or any sort of face wash. Grabbing Hot’s lead, they both scampered down the shallow fire-escape stairs, which she could access directly from her room at the end of the pub.

  At the bottom, Hot peed for what seemed like ten minutes. It reminded Rosa that she hadn’t had time to pop into the ensuite bathroom.

  Producing a treat from her coat pocket, she knelt down and rubbed his coat furiously with both hands. ‘Here you go, you’re a good boy. A very good boy.’ He snapped up the treats then rubbed his head against her head and sneezed.

  Rosa stood up. She couldn’t believe how long she had slept. On getting back to the pub after her encounter with Luke, she’d felt a bit woozy so thought she’d have a little nap. That nap had turned into a marathon twelve-hour sleep. She must have needed it. But she was terribly thirsty now and poor Hot must be starving.

  She had no idea what time any of the shops opened, so she put Hot on the lead and they made their way up the steep slope from the bay to Main Street. If anything was going to be open, it would be the Co-op.

  As they walked past the Corner Shop, Rosa smiled to herself. She knew this whole thing wasn’t going to be easy, and usually, a challenge like this would make her want to run away - but because it was her challenge and hers alone she felt strangely excited. The shop looked very gloomy still, especially as she had closed the old damp blinds last night so that nobody could stare in when she was in there. But it wouldn’t be long before she sorted everything out and made it welcoming again.

  She then did a double-take: for just a split second she thought she could see a light on in the kitchen at the back. Strange. She was sure she had turned it off, but then again, she had been a bit tipsy. She didn’t have the keys on her to check, but once she had fed and watered herself and her dog, she would come up and have a look. She quickly glanced again, and everything was now in complete darkness, so maybe she had just imagined it.

  ‘Hurrah, Hot, it’s open.’ She tied him up outside and pushed open the door.

  The Co-op was empty apart from the sleepy-looking woman behind the counter who was reading a magazine and didn’t even look up when Rosa walked in. Getting herself a milkshake, a sandwich, some dog food and a copy of the South Cliffs Gazette, Rosa took her basket to the counter.

  ‘They won’t have reported it in there yet,’ the woman told her, still without looking up. ‘Be in next week’s edition now.’

  ‘Sorry, I don’t know what you mean.’ Rosa scre
wed up her face.

  ‘The incident last night. Did you not see the police car up at the Ship?’

  ‘Er . . . no, I didn’t.’

  ‘But you’re staying there, aren’t you?’

  How could a complete stranger know who she was already? Rosa thought crossly.

  The woman rambled on without her response. ‘Yes, terrible doings. Sheila’s son’s girlfriend decided to walk down from the station ‘cos her boyfriend was late collecting her, so I hear. Got clipped by a car, she did. Broke her ankle quite badly. What’s more, the car drove off - left her lying in the road, poor soul. If it wasn’t for Ralph Weeks doing another pick-up, she’d have been there all night. Thank goodness it’s mild down here for this time of year or she could have been a goner.’

  ‘Oh no, that’s terrible. The poor girl.’

  ‘I know. Things like that don’t happen in Cockleberry. The last time I saw a police car was when old Mrs Perivale slipped on the ice and the ambulance couldn’t get up her drive.’ The woman coughed loudly. A cough that only a lifetime of smoking could bring.

  ‘I’m Mary, by the way,’ she went on. ‘I live in Seaspray Cottage with my old gran. Rosa, isn’t it? That’s right,’ she answered herself. ‘Rosa Larkin. Such a pretty name.’

  Did every single person in this town know who she was? Rosa made a conscious note to be more careful from now on, about who she confided in. Maybe she shouldn’t have trusted in Luke, but the Prosecco had loosened her tongue and he had seemed warm and genuine.

  Rosa handed over a fiver, told Mary to put the five-pence change in the Air Ambulance charity box and quickly exited the shop.

  She untied Hot, gave him a treat, then drank her milkshake down in one. Making her way back down to the beach, she thought about Mary. The latter was an interesting-looking character. With her long, dark hair that reached down to her bum and a brown, weather-beaten face, she resembled a stereotypical witch you might see in kids’ books. Rosa had no idea how old she might be. A bit like with Seb, maybe her weathered face made her look older than her years. But goodness knows how old her ‘old gran’ was, as even being kind, Mary must be in her early forties. Maybe the sea air kept you going down here, Rosa told herself. After all, Mr Myers who’d had the shop before her had been ninety-eight when he had passed.

  As she reached the bay, she checked the pub car park. No sign of a police car now, just Sheila’s ancient white Golf convertible.

  Rosa picked a rock to sit on, opened her sandwich and started to devour it. The winter sun was rising in the mist, and waves lapped gently against the shoreline. Although cold, Rosa felt peaceful. It really was a very special place.

  She pulled bits of bacon out of her sandwich for Hot to snack on, and promised, ‘I’ll put your food down as soon as we get back, Mr Sausage.’ Doing this obviously wasn’t a good idea, as the seagulls thought it was breakfast-time for them too, which caused Hot to start barking loudly and chase around at a hundred miles an hour.

  ‘Ssh, little man, people are still sleeping.’

  ‘I wish.’

  Rosa jumped. ‘Seb! You made me jump.’

  ‘No fry-up at the pub today then?’

  ‘Not today. Hot needed a walk. Is Jet here?’

  ‘Yes.’ Seb pointed down to the sea-edge where Jet was chasing waves. ‘The Old Bill were hanging around here last night,’ he told Rosa. ‘Thought I’d better not drive down today in case they were here now, as I’m probably still over the limit after last night in the pub. Not fancy a drink yourself last night then?’

  ‘I was so tired I fell asleep before seven. I can’t believe it, to be honest. I never used to do that at home.’

  ‘Amazing what the sea air can do to you down here.’

  ‘I’m beginning to realise that.’

  Seb reached down and threw a stone towards the water. Hot charged off after it.

  ‘Anyway, the Old Bill were here because Sheila’s son’s girlfriend got hit by a car while walking down from the station. Bloody mad, in these dark streets.’ He fixed her with a critical stare. ‘You townies are all the same – too impatient. She could’ve waited for him to pick her up.’

  ‘Oh dear, that’s awful.’ Rosa couldn’t be bothered to tell him that she knew already. ‘Is she in hospital then or back here?’

  ‘In hospital. Broke her wrist, evidently.’

  Rosa smiled to herself. Chinese whispers could be so dangerous. That poor girl would be in a full body-cast by lunchtime.

  ‘What time did all this kick off then?’ she asked. ‘Can’t believe I didn’t hear a thing.’

  ‘Ooh, around six thirty, maybe seven, I think.’ She then noticed Seb was staring right at her chest area. ‘Bit cold, are we?’

  Rosa had undone her coat when she had sat down to eat and her nipples, without the protection of a bra, were sticking right out from her jumper. If Luke had said it she might well have responded with some flirty quip, but coming from Seb, for whom she didn’t feel one ounce of attraction, it made her feel a bit sick.

  She quickly zipped her jacket back up, thinking, Dirty bastard. Attempting a weak smile, she whistled for Hot, then said briskly, ‘Right, we must go. Have a good day, Seb.’

  ‘Oh, it’ll be a busy morning at the station, what with it being Christmas Eve and all. I’ve got plenty of mince pies at the ready.’ He started to roll a cigarette. ‘So, will we have the pleasure of seeing you in the pub tonight? I’d hope to think so, seeing as it’s one of the highlights of the Ship’s calendar.’

  ‘Yes, maybe. It’s about time I fraternised with the locals, seeing as I am here for Christmas.’ And she managed a smile, despite thinking they probably all bloody knew who she was already.

  CHAPTER 7

  Rosa went back to her room and while Hot wolfed down his tin of dog food, she threw on some old clothes that were suitable for cleaning in. Once they were both done, she grabbed her purse and keys from her bag, put a lead on Hot and headed off down the fire-escape stairs before Sheila could find her and ask her where she was going. Despite it not being very nice news about her son’s girlfriend, she didn’t fancy a long-drawn-out conversation about it all.

  Just as she reached the edge of the car park, she saw Titch walking towards her and whispered, ‘Bugger,’ under her breath.

  ‘All right, Rose?’

  Rosa saw no point in correcting her. ‘Yep – all good, thanks, Titch. I’m just off for a walk with Hot. Can you tell Sheila I won’t be wanting breakfast today?’

  ‘Will do. Maybe see you later? There’s always a good crack in here on Christmas Eve and I can introduce you to the few single cocks of Cockleberry Bay too, if you fancy?’ She put her hand over her mouth in faux shock and carried on walking.

  Titch was making Rosa feel quite chaste. Sex hadn’t been on her mind once since she had got here. Actually, that was a lie. If Luke had asked to check her pipes further, maybe she’d have let him inspect her plumbing, but she was genuinely more concerned about getting the shop - and more importantly the flat - ready as soon as possible.

  Rosa now had to make the steep hike back up to the Co-op again. She had forgotten all about needing cleaning stuff this morning, but she was on a mission today. Now she had hoovered everything, she planned to get the downstairs toilet and little kitchen clean, as well as the upstairs bathroom and kitchen. The priority was to get the shop up and running, but without a place to sleep she would be shelling out £60 a night for bed and breakfast at the Ship Inn and she really didn’t want to be doing that after Boxing Day.

  There was the slight problem of the lack of a mattress, but she had packed her own bedding and the old sagging sofa would have to do for a few nights if need be. She had certainly slept on worse in the past.

  Mary was still there behind the counter, unpacking boxes of cigarettes from a big carton. ‘Can’t keep you away, can we?’ she greeted Rosa.

  Fearing the barrage of questions that would be aimed at her when she was ca
ught red-handed with a basket full of cloths, bleach, heavy-duty rubber gloves and cleaning sprays, Rosa knew she would have to have her story ready by the time she reached the checkout.

  ‘Thought I’d help Sheila out a bit and do some shopping for her, what with all she’s going through at the moment,’ she said.

  ‘Well, she doesn’t usually buy own brand.’

  ‘Well, she’s having it today, Mary.’

  ‘So, what’s the latest news then, young Rosa?’

  ‘I really don’t know, and I’m in a hurry - sorry.’

  Mary coughed. ‘You should come and see my old gran. She’ll slow you down. She reads fortunes, you see, but maybe you don’t need one of those, eh?’ She winked, turned her back and continued to pack the shelf behind her with cigarettes.

  Rosa unlocked the front door to the shop. The warmth of the radiators had accentuated the damp smell and she went to the back kitchen and threw open the door to the courtyard.

  ‘Pooh, Hot, let’s go with ventilation rather than heat today, shall we? I’d rather be cold for a while and start getting rid of this stench of damp.’

  Rosa scrubbed and cleaned the kitchens and bathroom until they were gleaming. Well, as gleaming as an old Belfast kitchen sink and a 1970s avocado bathroom suite could gleam anyway. The downstairs toilet was now as good as new. You could eat your dinner off it! She loved the fact that it had an old cistern with a pull-chain handle and – yes! - a ceramic starfish on the end of that too.

  She wondered why there were so many starfish dotted around and then just assumed it must be a living-by-the-seaside thing. She had seen loads of model boats in people’s front windows and had lost count of the cottage names relating to some sort of maritime theme.

  She just had the upstairs fridge to clean out when Josh phoned. Peeling off her sweaty rubber gloves, she plonked herself down on the saggy beige sofa.