Summer at West Sands Guest House

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Summer at West Sands Guest House Page 4

by Maggie Conway


  ‘That’s a golf course over there?’

  ‘Yes, that’s Drumloch golf course and though you can’t see through the trees, there’s a golf school and range as well.’

  Molly perked up with interest.

  ‘It was run down for a while,’ Judy continued. ‘But it’s recently been bought over by two golf professionals and I know they’ve got plans for the place.’

  ‘I might take a walk over and have a look.’

  ‘Do you play golf?’ Judy asked.

  ‘I used to play a bit with my father,’ she replied. ‘What about you, do you play?’

  ‘Me? Goodness, no. Never understood the mystery of chasing a white ball about,’ she laughed. ‘Although George played and always wanted me to learn so we could play together.’

  ‘Well, I should probably get going,’ Molly said, conscious she had the return walk to undertake.

  ‘Why don’t you go and have a look at the golf course now?’ Judy suggested.

  Molly hesitated.

  ‘It really is only a few minutes’ walk. When you leave here, turn right and you’ll see a tree-lined path. Just follow it and when you come to a little picnic area with a couple of wooden tables, you’re practically there.’

  ‘How much do I owe you?’ Molly asked, getting to her feet.

  ‘On the house,’ Judy insisted. ‘I’ve enjoyed meeting you and it’s been lovely to have a little chat.’

  ‘Thank you, I’ve enjoyed it too,’ Molly replied, surprised by how easy she had found talking to the older lady. Outside in the sunshine again and feeling rejuvenated, Molly debated with herself whether to go and check out the golf school now or come back another day.

  When she had known she was coming to St Andrews Molly had dug out her set of clubs languishing in the attic collecting dust. Now she hoped to have some practice at one of the ranges and maybe persuade her brother to have a game.

  Both her parents had played but it had been her father in particular who had passed on his love of the game to Molly. When she’d been a little girl, Molly hadn’t been interested in dance classes, swimming or any of the other activities on offer but had taken to hitting the ball. One day her dad had taken her to a range and she could still recall the look of surprise on his face when, with apparent ease, she smacked a ball a hundred yards down the middle of the fairway. After that, she was his caddy whenever possible and when she was older she played with him at their local club.

  Her father was a quiet, thoughtful man and not one to talk much but it became their thing to do together and some of her happiest memories were of the two of them on the course together. She sighed thinking of those times. Sometimes the simplest things really were the best.

  At this time of year Molly knew all the golf facilities in town would be busy which was why this location was so appealing. She could see the little path now. Overhung with trees and surrounded by wildflowers, it almost seemed to beckon her. Molly made an instant decision – she was this close, she may as well check it out.

  After a few minutes she passed the picnic area that Judy had mentioned and then the golf school came into view – a modern, timber frame building with dark wood cladding.

  To one side Molly could see the practice range which consisted of a row of covered bays and to the other side was a small putting green. Further away and set amidst the rolling hills, she could see the golf course perched on the rocky shores of the bay with the North Sea as its backdrop. The sun beamed down and sparkled on the water below and Molly took a moment to appreciate the rugged beauty of her surroundings.

  She pushed the door open into a reception area which was basically a large room with a few doors leading off it. There was a small counter and a couple of chairs beside a table with a few golf magazines scattered on top.

  A tall, gangly boy aged about twenty wearing a tracksuit came bounding over, introduced himself as Kenny and asked how he could help.

  ‘I’d like to come the range one day,’ Molly told him. ‘Do I need to book in advance?’

  The boy shook his head. ‘You can turn up any time – but it’s empty right now if you’d like to play, I can get you set up?

  Molly hesitated for a heartbeat and then decided why not? A little surge of excitement shot through her, it had been so long since she’d played or practised.

  The boy helped to get the bucket full of golf balls and, as she didn’t have her own clubs with her, gave her a selection of practice clubs to choose from. After thanking him, Molly made her way to the furthest away bay.

  It felt odd to be holding a golf club again. She rolled her neck and loosened her shoulders before she started, her father’s voice in her head. Straight back, knees flexed and head steady.

  She took a few tentative shots to warm up, some more successful than others. Molly knew that playing golf wasn’t like riding a bike. If you didn’t practice, you lost the feel for it. And that was why she wanted to try and use this time because she knew she could be a fairly decent player and with that came confidence – something she was sorely lacking at the moment.

  It all came back to her why she loved it so much. The focus it required, the satisfaction of striking the ball. Soon she was enjoying herself, getting into her stride and finding that hitting the ball was quite therapeutic. Considering she had a hangover and it was a few years since she’d hit a ball, she was feeling quite pleased with herself.

  After several minutes of hitting the ball Molly heard a door opening and glanced up to see a man coming through one of the doors. Disappointed her solitude had been broken and not relishing the prospect of an audience, she kept her head down hoping he would go away. She lined up her next ball and for some unfathomable reason gave her hips a little wiggle in an attempt to look casual.

  Swinging the club perhaps a little too enthusiastically, she caught the edge of the ball with an almighty thwack and watched helplessly as it ricocheted off the roof and rebounded hitting her on the head.

  ‘Ouch!’

  Molly stood stunned for a moment, hoping it had sounded worse than it was. She brought her fingers to her head but apart from a small lump forming there didn’t seem to be any other damage.

  Out the corner of her eye, Molly could see her little commotion had caused the man to look up. Silently willing for him not to come over she kept her head down, but it was too late – he was already making his way towards her.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  Molly looked up upon hearing the deep voice.

  ‘Mmm? Oh, yes I’m fine.’ She managed a little laugh but couldn’t stop a furious blush flooding her cheeks. They regarded one another for a moment and Molly’s heart dipped as she recognised the driver who’d made the emergency stop for her and Anna last night. She cringed inwardly, dropping her gaze. She decided ignorance was the best plan and just hoped he wouldn’t recognise her.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need someone to look at your head?’ he asked looking at her with concern.

  ‘No, honestly. I didn’t feel a thing,’ she lied, beginning to feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

  ‘Have you been to a golf range before?’

  Molly frowned. ‘Lots of times actually,’ she replied defensively, not liking the feeling he was assessing her in some way.

  ‘Try to take care then, we don’t want anyone hurting themselves.’

  Molly bristled that his concern was now bordering on admonishment and wished he’d just go away. Perhaps sensing her irritation, he managed to impart a perfunctory smile. Something about his manner was distinctly reserved, almost as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to be there. Or worse, didn’t want her to be there. She hoped he wasn’t one of the sexist ignoramuses who thought women shouldn’t play golf because if he was she might just swing the club in his direction. Molly was just wondering exactly who he was when he introduced himself.

  ‘I’m Tom Kennedy, one of the golf professionals here.’

  So that explained his concern. He was probably making sure she wasn
’t going to make some sort of injury claim. And knowing he was a professional sportsman certainly explained his physique and healthy, outdoorsy look. He held out a hand for her to shake, her hand feeling tiny in his large, firm grip.

  ‘I’m Molly Adams.’

  ‘As long as you’re all right, then,’ he said gruffly.

  Even in her slightly inebriated state last night, some part of Molly’s brain had registered the handsome driver as he passed. Sober and up close her assessment was the same. In fact, he was very handsome, she observed now, her eyes taking in his piercing blue eyes, short dark hair and square jaw. He was tall with powerful-looking shoulders and Molly felt a ripple of attraction run through her. Clearly the alcohol was still fizzing its way through her system.

  Seemingly reassured she wasn’t about to pass out he took a step back and leaned against the partition board, his large frame filling the small space. Molly’s eyes drifted to his tanned forearms and swallowed hard.

  ‘Are you here on holiday in St Andrews?’

  She nodded. ‘My brother and his family have taken a guest house for the summer so I’m staying with them for a few weeks.’

  ‘Do you play much golf?’ he asked.

  Molly got the sense he was trying to appear friendly but it wasn’t coming easily to him. If he was one of the new owners he might want to brush up on his people skills.

  ‘I was captain for my local club’s girls’ team and I’ve played some great courses actually.’

  She saw his eyebrow arch in surprise. Great, next she’d be saying she was best friends with Tiger Woods. ‘I mean I’ve never played seriously or anything and I haven’t played for ages so obviously I’m out of practice,’ she back-tracked desperately, suddenly finding her feet fascinating to look at. Reluctantly she dragged her gaze up, detecting the tiniest flicker of amusement in his eyes.

  ‘Are you planning on any more golf while you’re here?’

  ‘Hopefully. Just some practice at the range. See if I can drag my brother out for a game.’ Molly wondered if he was really interested or just going through the motions.

  ‘It’s a good course here at Drumloch and it’s only nine holes which is ideal if you haven’t played for a while.’

  ‘Um, sure, thanks. That’s good to know.’

  He shifted his weight from one leg to another and Molly detected an almost indiscernible discomfort as he did so. She sensed a suppressed energy from him, something she couldn’t put her finger on and despite herself she felt her curiosity piqued by the man with the intense eyes standing in front of her. She gave herself a shake, deciding it was definitely time for her to go.

  ‘I should be leaving,’ she said, beginning to gather her things.

  ‘You really are okay? You’re not hurt?’ he checked again.

  ‘Definitely not hurt, thanks.’

  He looked at her while running a hand across the back of his neck, appearing slightly awkward. ‘Hope to see you again then.’

  Molly smiled though doubted he meant that. She turned and walked away, noticing her hangover had totally disappeared.

  Chapter Four

  A few days later Molly and Anna were on their way to a house viewing but got distracted passing a pretty café called The Coffee Hut, with blue and white striped awnings hanging over the window.

  ‘We’ve got time, haven’t we?’ Molly looked at Anna, her stomach already rumbling in anticipation. After a quick glance at her watch, Anna agreed it was a splendid idea. Inside was warm and cosy, scents of coffee and baking mingling in the air and they stood at the counter for a few minutes trying to choose from all the delicious baking on display. Anna finally settled on a homemade scone with raspberry jam while Molly opted for the lemon shortbread.

  They settled at one of the tables by the window, taking in their surroundings. The café was busy with customers, some chatting and some hunched over laptops. Apart from one exposed brick wall the others were painted different colours and covered in artwork.

  The past couple of days had slipped by pleasantly. It was only after a few restorative nights’ sleep at the guest house that Molly appreciated just how badly she’d been sleeping at home. After Colin left she had considered sleeping in the spare room but had obstinately remained in the marital king-size bed. She had piled pillows where her husband used to lie and on nights when sleep wouldn’t come they proved to be very useful for pummelling.

  Luke and Lily were looking rosy-cheeked and healthy. They had been swimming and had enjoyed a day at the aquarium. The spiders, seals and meerkats had gone down very well, especially with Luke. Molly knew what an important time it was for Stuart, Anna and the children; there was a lot for them all to adjust to and so she’d tried to help out as much as possible. She had also wanted to give them time as a family and so had taken herself off now and again. In theory she was supposed to be addressing her thoughts to the future but her thinking only got so far before she became overwhelmed and apart from a few tentative job searches she had to admit she hadn’t done much.

  A waitress set down their order, which looked delicious, and Molly took a bite of the moist, crumbly shortbread, rolling her eyes in appreciation while Anna poured tea from a white ceramic teapot into pretty matching cups.

  ‘So tell me about this house we’re going to see,’ she asked Anna. The agreed plan was for Anna and Molly to do the initial viewings and if Anna liked any, then Stuart and the children would come for the second viewings.

  ‘Hold on, I’ll tell you,’ Anna replied, wiping her hands on a cream napkin and reaching for her phone.

  ‘Willow Cottage. A traditional stone built detached villa situated in a leafy street…needs some modernisation…’ She scrolled down her phone. ‘Oh, it’s actually further away than I thought. We might have a bit of a walk.’

  Molly nodded, finishing her biscuit. ‘Sounds interesting.’

  ‘Maybe – not sure about the modernisation though, that could mean it’s basically falling down.’

  As they continued to scrutinise the house details, a woman who Molly had seen earlier behind the counter appeared at their table. Her mass of red curls and the smock dress she wore with chunky silver jewellery gave her a bohemian air and Molly was struck by how relaxed and comfortable she appeared.

  ‘Morning, ladies.’ She smiled. ‘I just wanted to check everything is okay for you?’

  ‘Everything’s great, thanks,’ Anna replied.

  ‘I’m Freya, the owner here and that’s my husband Jack.’ She waved her hand in the direction of the man behind the counter whose return wave suggested he was used to this little scenario. Anna explained about moving to the town and staying at West Sands Guest House.

  ‘Oh, Eva is a good friend of mine. She and Ben are such a lovely couple. We started our businesses around the same time.’

  ‘How long ago was that?’

  Freya narrowed her eyes thinking. ‘Let’s see, that must be about nine years now.’

  Molly’s eye had been caught by all the lovely artwork – mostly seascapes – covering the walls of the café.

  ‘Who does all the paintings?’

  ‘I do,’ Freya replied.

  ‘Gosh, you find time to do all the paintings as well as run the café?’ Anna asked in awe.

  ‘To be fair, it’s Jack who runs the café mostly so that I have time to do my painting. But it wasn’t always like that. We were both working in Edinburgh, not seeing much of each other and not really happy. My dream was always to be able to paint but of course it’s not easy to make a living from it. So we took a gamble and bought this place. We’re never going to be millionaires, but in terms of happiness and seeing each other there’s no comparison.’

  Molly listened, wondering what it would be like to work beside your husband. Freya and Jack certainly looked happy, she thought, like a proper team working together.

  ‘So no regrets leaving the city?’ Anna asked with interest.

  ‘None at all. It’s a lovely place to live. The university and th
e golf are obviously the main attractions, although it’s quieter in winter – and much colder. And if I want a city fix I can go to Dundee or Edinburgh easily.’

  Freya swung her head round at the sound of the little bell above door announcing the arrival of more customers.

  ‘I’d better get back to work before Jack starts giving me the evil eye. I have an exhibition for my paintings and the opening reception is on Sunday afternoon at the Red Easel Gallery in the main street. You and your family are very welcome. It’s very relaxed and I’d love to see you there.’

  After saying goodbyes and heading back outside, Anna glanced at her watch. ‘We’d better get a move on or we’re going to be late,’ she said, marching ahead.

  They were both slightly red-faced and out of breath when they finally arrived, their unscheduled tea break making them slightly late.

  ‘This looks lovely,’ Molly remarked as they rounded the corner into a lane where there was a row of pretty cottages nestled amongst the trees with open fields stretching behind.

  ‘Which one is it?’

  ‘Probably that one with the woman waiting outside.’

  The woman – whose shiny, blonde hair and flawless make-up made Molly feel a bit crumpled – was indeed the estate agent waiting for them.

  ‘Good afternoon, I’m Lisa Hamilton.’

  ‘I’m so sorry we’re late, we lost track of time,’ Anna offered apologetically.

  ‘We do have another viewing booked for immediately after you but hopefully that shouldn’t be a problem.’ Molly thought she might have seen a tiny flicker of irritation cross the woman’s face before she returned to her professional smile.

  Anna and Molly followed her through the front door and, despite the warmth of the day, the house immediately felt damp and unforgiving.

  ‘As you’ll see, the property does require a fair amount of work. It’s been empty for several months due to legal reasons. The owner passed away some time ago in hospital and the only family live in Australia which has slowed things down as the solicitor is handling the sale. I’ll be honest, the work has put people off.’

  Molly couldn’t gauge Anna’s reaction but knew this was exactly the type of house she would like for herself one day.

 

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