by E. Earle
When Ben started meowing, I pulled out a can of whiskers and plonked it in a tupperware tub I had brought with me and poured some water into another.
I paused again as I caught sight on my strained face in the mirror.
My eyes are not like my mother’s or my sister’s- not their vibrant green that is so common among the Roberts family. I have my biological father’s grey ones. They stared back at me as if in mockery. I blinked it away. Although I didn’t have my mother’s colouring, I was glad I had taken after her in bone structure. I had been flattered in the past to be told I was “a bit of all right”, which made me feel good, although I at times didn’t believe it. I wished my nose was straighter, my lips fuller, my jaw line stronger. But that was on a bad day. On a good day, I could scrub up pretty well.
The two seconds of feeling good about myself vanished with the sensation of betraying my mother. I pulled on my pyjamas and got into bed even though it was only half nine and reached for my rucksack for my phone, and unashamedly my teddy rabbit. Ben jumped up and buried himself beneath the covers, curling up against my stomach. I sighed then, not feeling as alone.
I sent my mother a text saying I was ok and that I loved her and settled back into the pillows. That was the first night I cried myself to sleep at Craggys Peak.
Chapter Two
I woke the next morning with a heavy feeling. Pulling off a paw from my face and a tail from around my neck, I threw the covers off me and started to shuffle my way to the bathroom. I wished that I had an ensuite as I opened the door and blearily peeked out. I was wearing my knickers and an oversized baseball t shirt my stepdad got me from Michigan. Looking back longingly at my warm bed, Ben meowed at me and stretched across it. Return was impossible.
I skipped across the creaking hallway and walked into the bathroom at the end of the hallway. Locking the door behind me, I curled my lip at the various toothbrushes stuck in a pot by the frosted window. Everything was painted in an old faded green colour. It was cold, and the floor seemed to suck out all the heat from my body.
A minute later I exited and stumbled back towards my room yawning. It was then someone slammed open their door and walked right into me. I fell flat on my arse with a painful thump, my elbows smacking down on either side of me.
“Oh shit,” said a voice.
I looked up as a hand came down to help me and smacked it away. “Does no one look where they’re going around here?” I growled, getting to my feet.
A man in his late twenties stood before me. I evaluated him. He was over six feet tall, wide shoulders, and tanned like everyone else. The difference was that he had a shock of black hair and very dark brown eyes. My cheeks suddenly flushed then, when I realised that he had no shirt on, just a pair of khaki shorts. I don’t know why. I have plenty of lad mates who walked around in the summer with not many clothes on. But none were as… buff as this guy. I realised then that I was staring.
“You all right?” he asked, raising a dark eyebrow at me.
He had dark stubble around his face making his strong jaw look even harder. I swallowed and then remembered that I was pissed off at him.
“I’m fine,” I snapped, brushing my long hair out of my face. I walked past him then and straight into my room. I was just glad I was wearing decent underwear.
Ben meowed in amusement when I told him what had happened.
I dressed in a pair of leggings and an oversized grey t shirt as I came downstairs. I had slapped on a bit of makeup to cheer myself up- a bit of mascara and lippie, and had tied my hair up in a messy top knot. My Nan always said makeup did wonders for your confidence. Music was playing, some country tune or whatever and I went to the bar. I was glad to find that they were serving breakfast and ordered a full English, to cheer myself up.
I had promised Ben he could have my bacon, so I made sure I asked for extra rashers. Ben seemed to light up the place as he walked through. The curiosity he spiked in people was instantaneous. Despite this journey and this place being something that made my insides cringe in discomfort, Ben soothed my worries. It almost made me feel guilty, how easily he made me feel good.
“I’ll need to talk to someone who’s in charge,” I said to the girl behind the bar as I scratched Ben behind his ears. It wasn’t the girl Jessica from yesterday. This girl was once again blonde, but slightly curvy and short. She looked confused for a second, staring from me to Ben, to back to me. I almost rolled my eyes. Almost.
“Is there something wrong?” she asked, looking worried.
“No, I’m Ellena Blackwell,” I said as if it would explain everything. “I called a few days ago to say I was coming.”
Still, no look of recognition on her face.
“I’m the new owner,” I said.
Immediate panic rushed into her face. She looked around herself, as if searching for help. “Erm, ok, I’ll get Brynn to come over and see you. He sorts out pretty much everything that goes on here.” She smiled then, nervously, as if eager for me to walk away and take my negative energy with me.
I was all too happy to.
“Are we allowed cats in here?” I heard her murmur as I turned from the bar.
“Yes,” I snapped, harsher than I meant, picking up Ben. “We are now.”
I sat outside. It was slightly chilly, but I’d brought out my woolly cardigan with me. It was shapeless, brown, with wooden buttons, but I loved it. I shrugged into it, breathing in my mother’s perfume. My mother did that sometimes when I travelled somewhere, or when she knew she was leaving for Australia. She would pick an item of clothing she knew was a comfort item to me and spray it with her Chanel perfume.
It worked. It always made me feel good.
I sat down at the furthest picnic bench away from the house and looked out to the sea, Ben curling up in my lap. A moment’s peace reached my mind and pacified my body as I looked out to the crashing waves, white foam spraying against the rocks. It was banished almost instantly as I thought of all the trouble I had caused at home coming here. All the hurt, all the anger.
“Don’t think about it,” meowed Ben quietly. “You’re doing the right thing.”
“Am I?” I said sadly, stroking his pale gold coat.
“You wouldn’t have come here if you felt that you didn’t need to.” His sudden purring made me smile as I got his favourite place behind his ear near his cheek. “Don’t question things so much. Things will play their course. You’ve always got me, Ellena.”
I nodded, pushing back tears. He always said the right things. He was right- he usually was, although I would never tell him that. I gritted my teeth together. I had to do it. Although my sister and I had nothing to do with my biological father, it was something I needed to do. I found it difficult that my family couldn’t understand that. He had left this shack to me as some remnant of guilt, I felt. Something to leave me and my sister behind. I didn’t know whether I would have preferred the money to be honest, but I supposed I would have to get a surveyor out. See what the place was worth if I decided to sell it.
But why had he left it to me?
I looked back at the building and seriously doubted it being of any value. Although it looked like the perfect set for a hammer horror film, it was probably falling to pieces. Regrettably, I had to admit its quirkiness struck a nice chord with me. I sighed and wondered how long my breakfast would be.
Not long apparently.
I looked up to see a guy walking down the steps with a tray. I guessed it was my breakfast- no one else was about the garden. As he came closer, I realised that it was the guy that had bumped into me this morning.
“All right?” he said as way of greeting, as he placed the tray in front of me.
Ben jumped onto the table immediately, sniffing my food. He wouldn’t take anything without my say so though- he had manners.
The food looked so good to my empty stomach that I was able to tear my eyes away from him for a second.
“Hi,” I said, finally watching him sit down in front
of me. My alarm bells started ringing. I hate it when people watch me eat. I stared at my full english, wishing he would go away. Ben sat down expectantly and meowed.
“Go on then,” I sighed, gesturing to my plate. “Take it.”
Ben delicately nipped my bacon free from mushrooms and started to nibble it down.
The guy was staring at Ben in fascination. He had a white t shirt on now with some blue wave motif on it. It looked crude, as if someone had done it by hand. I raised both eyebrows to myself as I slid the napkin from the cutlery. I glanced at him as I reached for the salt and pepper, wondering if he was getting the hint. Jeez, these Devon people were weird. He was staring at me expectantly.
“I’m Brynn O’Connell,” he said then, not mentioning anything about Ben, as if he saw ginger cats visiting the place all the time.
It clicked, and I put the cutlery back down. “Ah, right…”
I noticed then that his jaw had clenched. He looked braced for bad news for some reason. This confused me. But then I realised that I was the new owner of Craggys Point. It was up to me what I would do with it.
“Marshall said that you’d be coming up,” he said, as if offering a start of conversation.
I nodded slightly, not knowing where to begin. “I, err… well, I was left this place a month ago.” I glanced back at that hunk of brick and wood in sudden hate. “In Barry’s will.”
Brynn nodded, taking it in. “Yeah, he never came down to visit the place. His mate, Marshall managed it all.” He stopped then, as if trying to be tactful. “But then when Barry…left, he left as well. So I took over as acting manager.”
“Right.” I really didn’t know where to go with this. “Is the place making money?”
Brynn frowned, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “There’s potential,” he offered.
I sighed then, feeling all of my hopes drift away. This was going to be too hard. “People reckon I should sell the place,” I said slowly. “What do you think?”
He tilted his head in thought. “It could be really great here,” he said, enthusiasm suddenly bursting in his voice. “But I’ve just been running lessons down on the bay surfing. That’s what I know. I take my pay cheque at the end of the week like everybody else.”
I nodded, pulling my eyes away from his face. “Ok. I think I’ll have a word with the accountant and see what the situation is.”
Brynn stood then, looking uncomfortable. “Enjoy your breakfast,” he finally said. Then, as if unable to hold it back any longer, he quickly gave Ben a tickle under the chin and was off.
I stared after him as he walked away, knowing that he had been about to say something else. Sighing, I dug my fork into a lovely sausage and took a bite. It was now cold.
The meeting with the accountant hadn’t gone so well either. He came later on that day as I inspected the building. It needed repainting mostly I thought. New toilets, a new bathroom upstairs. New wiring, new gas fitting. New roof. Ok, and maybe a new communal kitchen- plus the kitchen downstairs needed updating. It was a long list, but despite everything, I found myself getting excited.
But then reality hit. Money was needed to do all of this.
It’s ok, I thought. The accountant will tell me how much the place is earning…
The accountant was a skinny old man in a black suit, two sizes too big. He had thick glasses on that made his eyes look bug-like. He carried a scratched old briefcase full of documents on Craggys, which I was surprised to see in pristine order. I wondered if he had ironed them before coming out.
“Now, Miss Blackwell,” he said, the K on my name coming out sharp, “I hope you understand that under all the recent circumstances…”
His voice went on but for some reason it washed over me. I wasn’t hearing him. Ben’s purring was all I could hear, mixing in with the sound of the seagulls, the wind, and the sea. I was thinking about all the things I would do to the place. Getting people in. I could talk to Brynn about those lessons. Ben could catch mice…
“…Debt is quite sufficient-”
I snapped out of it. “What? Debt? What debt?” I sat up on the bench, where I had had my breakfast not two hours ago. A pot of tea now sat in front of me, courtesy of the girl this morning whose name I had learnt was Charlotte.
The accountant, Mr Cheswick’s giant eyebrows furrowed over his eyes. “Did your father not tell you of the finances?” he asked, fumbling in his case for more papers.
“Please don’t call him that,” I said before I could stop myself.
He glanced up at me in surprise from beneath his glasses.
I clenched my jaw and offered a gritted smile. “We didn’t ever speak,” I said coldly, feeling my nails dig into my palms of their own accord. “I hadn’t seen him for nearly ten years.”
Cheswick stared at me in disbelief and then slowly took off his glasses, looking sad and awkward. “Well, I don’t know how to tell you this, other than in straight terms, Miss Blackwell.” Again, that hard K. “Craggy Point is in debt of over sixty thousand pounds.”
I thought I was going to fall off the bench, Ben’s claws suddenly clenching into my thighs, dragging me back. Then, for a second, I thought he had said sixty quid. I almost laughed. The second passed, and suddenly my nails were no longer gripping my palms, but now gripping wood. “What are you on about?” I breathed, blinking fast.
“Craggys Point has not made a profit for quite a few years now,” Cheswick stated, sliding his round glasses on a badly broken nose. I found myself amidst the chaos of my brain, wondering whether he had ever played rugby. “Your fa- um, well he- I’m guessing, probably thought it would pick up. The recession is admittedly easing off now-“
“Hold on,” I snapped suddenly. I took a breath and closed my eyes briefly, before pointing limply at the accountant. “Are you telling me, that the father I haven’t even known, haven’t seen for nearly a decade, has left me sixty thousand pounds of his debt on my lap?”
Cheswick was silent for a moment, the folds of his face creasing into a look of discomfort. “Well, in the circumstances of today’s market-“
“Just tell me,” I almost growled. “Has he left this for me to deal with?”
Defeat passed over Cheswick’s face. He shuffled the papers together in an orderly fashion, slid them into his briefcase and clicked it shut. Sighing, he folded his hands together on top of the old leather and stared me straight in the eye.
“I’m afraid, my dear, the bastard has.”
It was a disaster. I walked straight up to the bar and behind it. People were staring at me as I did. Charlotte moved away from me quickly as I pulled the bottle of Captain Morgan from the shelf and grabbed a glass. Ben had trotted behind me, knowing I was going to get his catnip toy out. It was our deal. I drink rum- he’d sniff catnip.
I looked up to see Brynn silently assessing me. The planes of his face were set in solid lines as he observed my movements. Now I knew what he had wanted to say. I lifted the bottle to him in a mock toast and walked back outside, Ben meowing behind me.
I ignored the people walking up the hill towards Craggys Peak with their rucksacks and flip flops. Unfortunately, they couldn’t do the same for me, seeing a crying girl with a bottle of rum and a ginger cat trotting behind her. I wanted to call my mother, but it would just worry her. My real father had screwed me over whilst he was living, and had done it again in death. Hatred boiled in my stomach and I looked down at the glass in my hand, wondering why I had even bothered to bring it.
My dad had never been there when I was a child. My parents had divorced when I was nine years old, but even before that, I couldn’t remember one breakfast with him. One Christmas. I couldn’t remember him tucking me into bed, making me dinner, taking me to the dentist or anything. He was a night prison officer. But unbeknownst to my family, it was a convenient cover up for another family he was keeping. I hadn’t found out I had a little brother and sister until after the divorce when they were years old.
I opened the bottle of rum a
nd swigged it straight. I growled as it stung the inside of my mouth and started to walk faster. The sun was shining, which didn’t suit my mood at all. I wanted it to rain, thunder and for wind to blow.
Ben was meowing at me so I started to slow down.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
He wrapped himself around my legs as I looked over the hill down at the sea, breathing deeply. I needed to calm down. But it hurt so badly. He had done it to protect his own family. He didn’t want them stuck with that debt, so what better way to get rid of it.
Put it on me.
The wind was so strong, I wanted to stretch out my arms and let it blow me away into the tide. The only good thing Barry had ever done in his life was to leave my mother. She had remarried six years after the divorce, and to the best man I knew. Andy was my dad for all I was concerned about. He had been around for everything. He had been around for fifteen years. Longer than Barry had ever bothered. And now, Barry had left me sixty thousand pounds of debt to sort out. He had left it in my name. Not his new wife’s, not his children, not his parents- me. He hadn’t left this place to me as an act of remorse. It was his last act of sticking his fingers up to me.
I carried on walking.
“I’m sorry,” I said again to Ben.
“Don’t be,” he said. “I understand.”
And he did. He had been with me all the way through Tamworth- he had seen what had happened and had been there to help a snotty nosed crying girl pretend everything was ok. I loved him so much.
Houses painted in pastel colours floating in my view as the road finally stopped being so steep. Sand gathered in the bends of the track and I looked out to the cliffs and sea of Craggys bay. It was gorgeous, I had to admit. I paused for a second, drinking in the glorious view of emerald, sapphire and the explosion of white. But the bottle of rum seemed to be an even nicer sight as I gulped down some more. I didn’t care what the people inside the surfer shack thought of me. This was my place now. I could do with it what I wanted. I could have it burnt down to the ground if I wanted to.