Spring at Lavender Bay

by Sarah Bennett

  They strolled in silence for a few minutes. From the little frown line between her brows, Sam got the feeling Beth was working something out in her mind so he was content to leave her to it. A few puddles lingered in the centre of the stony pathway carved out over generations by walkers and riders, so he steered her to the left, letting her walk in front of him, but keeping hold of her hand.

  The scrubby trees on the banks bordering the path were bare at first glance, the grasses surrounding their trunks yellowed and limp. But to a discerning eye, the signs of spring were there in the tiny buds greening on the twigs, the hints of birdsong carried on the breeze. Sam loved this time of year when it was like the land was stirring from the deep sleep of winter, waiting for its cue from Mother Nature to burst into life once more.

  As the trees thinned out again, the landscape opened to reveal the rolling fields of Gilbert’s farm. Row upon neat row of closely pruned lavender plants marched across the surrounding hills. Even this early in the season, a heady scent drifted from the traditional grey slate and stone farm buildings clustered in the natural hollow formed by the surrounding hills. In the sea of muted colours below, the bright red sports car parked in front of the farmhouse was unmissable.

  He stopped to inhale the rich fragrance mixed with the salty breeze coming in off the sea wondering if there was a way to capture it. It would be perfect for Subterranean. A couple of diffusers hidden discretely in the entrance alcove would set the scene for an evening of sensual delights.

  Beth glanced back at him. ‘What’s put that look on your face?’ she asked, with a gentle squeeze of his fingers.

  ‘Take a breath. Tell me what you smell.’

  She closed her eyes and did as he bade, her lips curving up at the corners. ‘Home. I smell home.’

  Unable to resist the temptation of that smile, Sam closed the small distance between them and cupped the back of her head, beneath her ponytail. He waited for her eyes to open, watched as her pupils dilated in acknowledgement of his closeness to her body, and waited some more. Only when she began to move, to stretch on tiptoe, her fingers curling into the thick cotton of his tracksuit top did he lower his head to bring their mouths together.

  Needing to know she was fully on-board, he ceded control of the moment to her, following her lead as she nibbled at his lower lip, letting her take her time. And then he was beyond conscious decision as she traced her tongue along the seam of his mouth and he lost himself in the sweet taste of her, in the delicious press of her body against his.

  When she lowered her feet flat, he followed her down, straining his neck to catch every last moment until she turned her face away with a breathy laugh. ‘I think we should talk about those ground rules, don’t you?’

  Tucking her beneath his arm, he started them moving back along the track. ‘As long as kissing you as often as I can remains on the table, I’ll be happy.’

  Beth halted to tug his head back down for another kiss so hot it made him forget the chilly edge of the March breeze. ‘I’m very amenable to that,’ she whispered against his cheek once they finally came up for air. ‘As for the other rules, there’s only one that’s really important to me…’

  At the sudden seriousness in her tone, he moved back to put a little space between them, so he could focus on what she had to say without being distracted by the growing demands of his body. ‘I’m listening.’

  She snagged his hand, lacing their fingers together. ‘Everyone’s been so fantastic since Eleanor died. They’ve offered me support, a shoulder to cry on, but you’re the only one who’s stood up to me. I needed your honesty yesterday, about Charlie. Promise me that however this thing between us progresses that you won’t stop delivering the hard truths if you think I need to hear them.’

  Sam tightened his hand around hers. ‘I promise, but only if you do the same. You were the one who helped me see past my own disappointment to better understand my dad’s point of view. I don’t know where we’d be right now without that.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Beth set the tray of borrowed glasses down on the front counter and adjusted the handset under her ear. ‘I’m not ready, it’s going to be a disaster,’ she wailed into the phone.

  Deep laughter greeted her declaration sending little tendrils of warmth curling through her. ‘Stop being a wimp, you’ve worked your arse off all week and everything is going to be fantastic.’ Sam paused. ‘And if it’s a disaster at least your guests can enjoy all that delicious food Eliza and I made for you.’

  It was her turn to laugh. ‘Is that your idea of a pep talk? Why do I even bother with you?’

  ‘Because I’m the best kisser in Lavender Bay.’ The man had a point—not that she’d been getting any lately. Getting the emporium ready for opening was taking up every waking moment of her time and they hadn’t had a chance to put any of their ground rules into practice. Her life was distinctly lacking in anything remotely resembling a fling.

  Exaggerating a sigh, she swapped the phone to her other ear and started pulling sheets of cling film off the bowls of nibbles she’d set out on every available surface. ‘Yeah, I vaguely remember you having some basic skills in that department.’

  ‘Basic? Basic?’

  Whatever he said next she missed because she was laughing so hard she dropped her phone. ‘Damn!’ She bent down to scoop it up and knocked her head on the corner of a shelf. ‘Ouch.’

  ‘What was that? Are you okay?’

  She rubbed her head. ‘I’m fine, just a little karmic rebound, that’s all.’ Closing her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath. ‘Tell me I’ve got this.’

  ‘You’ve got this. You do. The emporium looks great, especially the local art collection. I think it’s inspired. Mum and Dad will be there to lend a hand, not that you’ll need it. And you can tell me all about it later.’

  ‘Thank you. You might be a basic kisser, but your pep talks are on the money.’ She lowered her voice to a husky murmur. ‘If you’ve got time to work on your skills, there’s a couple of boxes I could do with a hand with in the stock room.’

  ‘Temptress.’ He heaved an exaggerated sigh. ‘Much as I’d love to take you up on such a delightful invitation, this basic kisser has to go because we’ve got a walk-in looking for a room. I’ll call you later, okay?’

  They’d both agreed that work came first, but she couldn’t hide her frustration. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Hey, no sulking, it’ll be great.’ He hung up and consequently missed her outraged squawk. She was seriously starting to regret asking him to be honest all the time. Checking her watch, she did a quick mental calculation. It would be early in Florida, but her mum had always been an early riser. She shouldn’t have left it this long; dutiful daughters called their mothers every fortnight. It was another part of her mum’s happy family charade. It was a miracle word hadn’t already got back to Linda, although she’d cut ties pretty thoroughly after leaving the bay.

  Bracing herself with one hand on the counter, Beth scrolled through her address book and pressed dial.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Mum? It’s me, Beth.’

  ‘Hello, stranger. So you haven’t dropped off the edge of the earth then? I did wonder when I hadn’t heard from you.’

  Beth bit back a sigh at her mother’s snippy tone. The amazing thing about phones was that they worked both ways. She might not have called, but neither had Linda—not that it would occur to her, of course. ‘I wanted to make sure I caught you before you started your day, I know how busy you are.’

  ‘Well actually, it’s a good job you did call now because the girls from the bridge league are meeting for breakfast at the club this morning.’ Girls might be stretching it a bit, even with the extensive amount of plastic surgery popular amongst them.

  ‘I wanted to let you know that Eleanor left the emporium to me in her will, and I’ve decided to take over running it.’ She took a deep breath, then hurried on. ‘In fact, I’m hosting an opening party this evening.’

 
‘But what about your job in London? You can’t possibly hope to manage a shop and keep up with all your other work at the same time. What were you thinking?’

  Realising her knuckles had turned white where she was gripping the counter so hard, Beth forced her fingers to unclench. ‘I was thinking that my job wasn’t making me very happy, that I was being taken for granted. Running the emporium is a real challenge, Mum, and I’m having fun being my own boss for a change. I thought you’d be happy for me.’ She hadn’t really, but it was worth a try.

  ‘Happy?’ Beth winced at her mum’s shrill tone. ‘You’ve thrown away all your prospects to run that smelly, shabby hovel. I knew I shouldn’t have left you in that woman’s care. She’s brainwashed you!’

  ‘Eleanor was a wonderful friend to me, and it was only through her kindness that you were free to start your new life with Reg. Please don’t speak ill of her.’ It took effort not to raise her voice, but getting into a full-blown fight with her mum wouldn’t do any good. Linda hated Lavender Bay and she would never understand why not everyone else felt the same way.

  ‘Oh, I might have known I’d end up being the bad guy in all this, when all I’ve ever wanted is what’s best for you. You’re throwing your life away, Beth. I hate to see you throwing away all that potential so you can play at being a shopkeeper.’ A loud sniffle followed the outburst.

  When Beth didn’t jump in to placate her, her mum huffed, her crocodile tears abandoned almost as quickly as they’d started. ‘Don’t expect me to wish you good luck. If you have any sense at all you’ll sell that place and use the money towards building a proper future.’

  Beth closed her eyes and prayed for patience. Why had she honestly expected anything other than this? ‘Nothing’s set in stone, Mum, but if I do decide to sell it then surely it’s better to be able to offer a going concern rather than an empty shell?’

  Stony silence. She bit her lip, refusing to let herself get upset. Well, I just wanted to tell you about the opening tonight. I’ll give you a call sometime and let you know how I’m getting on. Bye, Mum.’

  She hung up before her mum had even finished saying goodbye, disappointment weighing her shoulders down. There was no time to brood as someone knocked on the front door. Flipping the lock, she fixed a big smile on her face and opened it. ‘Welcome! Oh, it’s you.’

  ‘Jesus, B, that’s the scariest expression I’ve ever seen. If you’re not careful, you’ll scare off all your potential customers.’

  ‘I just got off the phone to Mum.’

  ‘Oh, God, no wonder you look ready for a scrap.’ Libby bustled in a large box under her arm. ‘Wow, it looks great in here.’ She grabbed a handful of peanuts and stuffed them in her mouth. ‘I’m starving!’

  Slapping her hand away from the bowl, Beth laughed, her friend’s vibrant personality the perfect foil to her mother’s coldness. ‘You work in a chip shop, Libs, how can you possibly be starving?’

  ‘Ugh! Are you kidding? If I never see another saveloy in my life, it’ll be too soon.’ She turned in a circle. ‘Where can I put this?’ She started pushing some of the carefully positioned bowls aside.

  Beth leapt forward. ‘Hey, it took me ages to get these in the right place.’ Easing Libby aside, she shifted a plate back six inches to the left. ‘What’s in the box, anyway?’

  ‘Be patient.’ Libby pulled her tablet out from her shoulder bag and started fiddling with it. She clicked on an icon and Eliza’s face filled the screen. ‘Finally! Did she open it yet? Put me somewhere I can see what’s going on.’

  ‘Hold your horses,’ Libby scolded. She held the tablet against her chest, pointing it at Beth. ‘Can you see now?’

  ‘I can see her belly button. Nice blouse, by the way, Beth. Very classy.’ Libby lifted the tablet higher. ‘That’s it, hold it there!’

  ‘God, you’re bossy.’ Libby nodded at Beth. ‘Eliza and I wanted to say we both think what you’re doing is amazing, and we couldn’t be more proud of you.’

  ‘And we know you’re going to be a runaway success,’ Eliza chipped in.

  ‘I was getting to that bit,’ Libby rolled her eyes. ‘So, anyway, we wanted to get you something to celebrate your new venture.’

  A familiar tingle started behind Beth’s eyes and she blinked rapidly to chase away the impending tears. ‘You didn’t need to do that.’

  ‘Oh, hush, of course we did. That’s what best friends are for.’ Libby said. ‘Now open the box.’

  The top of the box had been folded in on itself and she tugged one of the long flaps free. A pile of pink tissue paper greeted her. Lifting the other flap, she lifted out handfuls of the paper to reveal a bubble-wrapped rectangle. A gold label she recognised secured the wrapping in place. Pausing, Beth, glanced up. ‘What did you do?’

  Libby grinned. ‘Open it.’

  Fingers shaking, she peeled the label and folded back the bubble wrap. ‘Oh. Oh my God.’ Inside a white pine frame was a delicate watercolour rendering of a small section of the promenade from the perspective of someone on the beach. Sitting in the centre, slightly larger than the buildings to either side was a beautiful rendering of the emporium, complete with its brand-new stripy awning and a sign showing the new name.

  No amount of blinking was going to hold back the tears this time. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she snivelled. ‘Just beautiful. Thank you.’

  ‘Oh, B, not your makeup!’ Libby dumped the tablet on the counter to fumble in her pocket for a tissue. ‘Deep breaths, deep breaths, come on now.’ She flapped her hands in front of Beth’s face as she pressed the tissue hard against the corners of her eyes.

  ‘I’m okay, I’m okay.’ Beth took a deep breath and held it for a count of five. ‘I’m okay.’ She grabbed Libby’s face between her hands to smack a kiss on her lips. ‘Thank you. You’re amazing’ Picking up the tablet, she kissed the screen. ‘You too, Eliza. You’re both incredible and I couldn’t have done this without you.’

  ‘Nonsense.’ Eliza grinned at her from the slightly smeared screen. ‘You did all the hard work, not us. Take pride in what you’ve achieved, and this is only the beginning. I just wish I could be there with you.’

  ‘Me too. Maybe you can come and see us again in a few weeks once the weather warms up? You’ll need to work on your tan if you’re going abroad.’ Eliza’s bright smile faded, making Beth wince. Foot, meet mouth.

  A knock was swiftly followed by the jaunty ring of the bell over the front door. Beth glanced over her shoulder. ‘Oh, hey, your folks are here. Do you want to say hi?’

  Leaving Annie and Paul chatting to their daughter, Beth did a final circuit of the shop, double-checking—or more like quadruple-checking—everything was in place.

  Libby came over to join her. ‘What can I do?’

  ‘There’s a checklist over on the counter…what? Why are you laughing?’

  ‘Of course, there’s a checklist. I don’t know why I didn’t just look for it in the first place.’ Still chuckling, Libby joined Annie and Paul at the counter where they divvied up the last couple of jobs.

  Beth checked her watch. It was twenty minutes to the opening and the first of the artists should be there any moment. The bell over the door rang again, and Beth fixed her ‘I’m confident and organised smile’ in place as she headed over to greet them. She was keen to expand, using the emporium as a showcase for their work. If running the shop didn’t work out for Beth in the long run, she had it in mind to ask whether they’d be interested in taking it on in some kind of collective capacity. It might mean a shift from the current eclectic stock the place carried, but Eleanor had been the one to bring them on board in the first place so a part of her legacy would live on.

  Annie edged through the crowded shop towards Beth and handed her a glass of champagne. ‘Everyone else has got a drink so I think it’s time. If you’re ready I can start herding people outside?’

  Beth nodded. ‘Thank you.’ She touched Annie’s arm when she would have turned away. ‘It’s going okay, isn’t
it? I mean, everyone’s here. The place is packed, and they’ve said lots of nice things. It’s just…’

  ‘Everything’s perfect.’ Taking care not to knock either of their glasses, Annie swept Beth into a sweet-scented hug. Chanel No.5. Beth smiled to herself as the elegant perfume wafted around them. For as long as she could remember, Annie had kept a bottle of it on her dressing table. She and Eliza had snuck in there to play dress-up and had drenched themselves in the stuff. Instead of getting mad, Annie had sat them both down and showed them the secrets of her make-up bag.

  Annie stepped back and clinked their glasses together. ‘You’ve got a huge hit on your hands, especially with the artists. I’ve already talked Paul into arranging for that lovely jeweller to make me some earrings for our anniversary next month. It’s pearl.’

  Beth grinned. ‘I get twenty percent commission on any orders placed here tonight so make sure he doesn’t scrimp.’

  ‘Good point, I’ll talk him into a matching necklace. I pushed two of his babies out of my body so that man owes me.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Don’t look at me like that, young lady. Thirty hours of labour for the first and over eighteen for the second. He’s going to owe me for the rest of his life.’

  Paul slid his arm around her waist, the other resting on a walking stick Beth hadn’t seen him use before today. Another sign he was taking his health more seriously. ‘And I enjoy paying back the debt, my dearest heart. Come on now, lets get this lot outside before they drink all the booze.’

  Watching them go, a tingle of warmth spread through Beth easing her nerves. Most of the people there had been on their feet all day dealing with the worries and stresses of their own businesses, and yet they hadn’t hesitated to give up their evening to welcome her back into their fold. It made her sad to think her mum had never been able to see this side of life in their small town.

  Once everyone gathered on the pavement outside, Beth took her place next to the rope the joiners had attached to the tarp covering the sign above the front windows. Libby handed her a teaspoon which she tapped against her glass until the conversation died down. Staring out at her friends and neighbours, she felt the collective weight of their expectations and uttered a silent prayer she’d be up to the challenge.