The Little Bed & Breakfast by the Sea

by Jennifer Joyce

‘One scoop or two?’ he called over his shoulder.

  ‘Just one.’ Melody located her purse and unzipped it, grabbing the appropriate coins. The ice-cream-van man reappeared at the hatch, the delicious-looking cone outstretched. Melody made the switch, unable to resist licking the toffee sauce that was already starting to drip down onto the cone.

  ‘See you around!’ he called as she wandered off, mentally in heaven as her tongue lapped at the ice cream. It was truly amazing and so refreshing in the heat. She raised a hand in lieu of a goodbye, already knowing she would re-enter the cheese zone tomorrow for another go at one of his ice creams.

  Chapter Eight

  Mae

  ‘Mummy!’

  Mae hadn’t even swung the gate open at her mum’s house and Hannah was already hurtling towards her, her new sandals slapping noisily against the garden path as she propelled her little body forward. Moments earlier, Hannah had been playing with her dolls on the small patch of grass in front of the house while her grandmother relaxed with a book in a deckchair.

  ‘Hello, little lady.’ Mae opened the gate quickly and scooped her daughter into her arms, planting a noisy kiss on her cheek and making her giggle. ‘I hope you’ve been behaving for Nanny.’

  ‘She’s been an angel,’ Eloise said from the deckchair. She twisted her wrist to check the time. ‘You’re early, aren’t you?’

  ‘There was a bit of a problem with the B&B, so Corinne sent me home early.’

  ‘Typical Corinne,’ Eloise said as she placed her book facedown on the grass. ‘Is everything okay with the B&B now?’

  Mae shifted Hannah onto her hip and made her way across to her mum. ‘It’s all sorted. I’ve had a cancellation on both of my rooms, but I’ve managed to fill one of them already.’ Mae placed Hannah back down on the grass in front of her dolls. ‘Hopefully I’ll be able to fill the other quickly and won’t miss out on too many days.’

  ‘It’s high season, so I’m sure it won’t be a problem.’ Eloise slotted a bookmark between the pages of her book and closed it. ‘So, this guest. Is it a female guest? Or male?’ She’d adopted a casual tone as she enquired, but she was fooling no one. Though single herself, Eloise was desperate to see her daughter coupled with a man – any man, it sometimes seemed to Mae.

  ‘It’s a woman,’ Mae said, trying not to smile when she saw the clear disappointment on her mother’s face. ‘She’s married, but her husband’s working away or something.’

  ‘Working away, eh?’ Eloise said. ‘That’s what I used to tell people whenever your father buggered off with one of his floozies.’

  ‘I’m sure it’s nothing like that,’ Mae said, though her voice was filled with little conviction. In her experience, men and relationships usually came hand-in-hand with heartache.

  Eloise shrugged. ‘Maybe not. There are some decent fellas out there, if you look hard enough. Or look at all in your case.’

  ‘Mum…’ Mae groaned.

  Eloise held her hands up in surrender. ‘I’m just saying.’

  ‘Well, don’t just say anything.’

  ‘Sorry. I just worry about you being on your own.’ Eloise battled with the deckchair to get her feet on solid ground. ‘Are you staying for a cup of tea?’

  ‘I shouldn’t, really. My new guest is picking some things up and I’d like to be there to settle her in. You know how grateful I am having Mrs Hornchurch on hand, but she does like to chew people’s ears off.’

  ‘She’s lonely,’ Eloise said. ‘That house used to be full to the brim with people when I was growing up next door. There were Mr and Mrs Hornchurch, their three children, Mrs Hornchurch’s parents and an aunt or cousin – I can’t remember which now. It was bedlam! Now there’s just poor Mrs Hornchurch rattling around the old place with only the dog for company.’

  ‘I do try to stop and chat when I can.’ Mae felt bad now. She knew how much loneliness could bite.

  ‘I know you do.’ Eloise, having freed herself from the deckchair, gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek. ‘Now, are you sure I can’t tempt you with a cuppa? I’m parched in this heat.’

  ‘I really should be getting back. I’m not sure how long it’ll take Willow to pack her things. She said she won’t be bringing much.’ Crouching on the grass, Mae started to gather the dolls and place them in the plastic box that housed them and their accessories.

  ‘Okay, darling.’ Eloise took the box of dolls and tucked it under one arm before leaning in to kiss Mae’s cheek. ‘Take care – and don’t work too hard.’ She stooped down to kiss her granddaughter. ‘Bye, sweetheart. Be good!’

  Taking Hannah’s hand, Mae made her way to the car, strapping Hannah into her seat at the back before climbing in herself. She waved to her mum – who had returned to the deckchair and her book – before driving back to the bed and breakfast.

  The house Mae had grown up in – and which Eloise still occupied – was only a few minutes’ drive from the seafront, but it had always felt like a big adventure whenever Mae had visited her grandparents as a child. It felt different at Granny and Grandpa’s, as though the town was more alive down by the seafront, and it was certainly more fun with the beach, pier and arcade within easy reach. She’d loved the house as a little girl, with its three floors of rooms to explore and the large garden at the back with a rope swing and slide. It hadn’t been a bed and breakfast back then – it had simply been Granny and Grandpa’s house, almost a second home for Mae growing up. It had been a happy place, away from the drama of her parents’ often turbulent relationship, and she hoped she’d created an equally happy home for her daughter.

  ‘Can I watch telly?’ Hannah asked as soon as they arrived home, sliding her new sandals off her feet without unbuckling them and kicking them onto the hallway floor.

  ‘Don’t you think you should put these away first?’ Mae scooped the sandals up from the floor and handed them to her daughter. ‘Before our guest arrives and breaks her neck before she’s even unpacked?’

  ‘Who’s coming to stay today?’ Hannah asked as she and Mae climbed the stairs. Mae was about to tell her about Willow when the doorbell rang, the sudden and piercing sound making her jump.

  ‘Make sure you put those in the bottom of the wardrobe,’ she said, pointing at the sandals before scurrying back down the stairs again. She opened the door, expecting to see Willow on the doorstep, but it was a young woman, blonde rather than brunette like Willow, wearing cut-off denim shorts and a blue-and-white-striped T-shirt. She had a hefty-looking rucksack slung over her shoulders, the strap of a laptop-style bag crossing her chest, and a camera looped around her neck. How she was still standing under the weight of it all was a mystery to Mae.

  ‘I don’t suppose you have a room free?’ she asked. She bit her lip as she waited for an answer, her eyebrows inching slowly up her weary-looking face.

  ‘You’re in luck,’ Mae said, opening the door wider and stepping aside. ‘I’ve had a cancellation this afternoon and the room’s still free. Come in and I’ll get you booked in.’

  ‘Really?’ She smiled now, her lips stretching wide across her face. She had such a pretty face, with rosy, defined cheeks and blue eyes that sparkled now she was no longer grimacing. ‘Thank you so much. I’ve been wandering around for ages. I couldn’t find a room anywhere! I thought I was going to have to move on, which is a shame as this seems like such a lovely town. I’m sorry, I’m babbling.’

  Mae laughed as she led the way into the living room. ‘Don’t worry about it, and I’m glad you’ve found somewhere to stay. I’m Mae Wright, by the way.’

  ‘Melody Rosewood.’ The woman held her hand out and Mae shook it. ‘This is a gorgeous house. I’ve stayed in some pretty grotty places over the past couple of weeks, but this is not one of them.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Mae looked around her living room, which, she had to admit, she loved. There was the original fireplace in the centre of the room, with bookcases built into the alcoves either side, and although
she’d painted the whole room a warm cream shade, she’d brightened the space with splashes of colour, from the teal sofa and its lime-green and fuchsia scatter cushions, to the yellow tub chairs either side of the bay window and the vases and trinkets dispersed around the room. It was an inviting, comfortable space for Mae and she hoped her guests felt the same.

  ‘Take a seat.’ Mae indicated the sofa, which, she now noticed, had a light film of short, dark hairs in one corner. That bloody cat! ‘I won’t be a minute.’

  As much as the cat hairs bugged Mae, their removal would have to wait a moment as whipping the cushion away would only draw more attention to them. Instead, while Melody settled herself, Mae dashed into the family room to grab her laptop. The family room had once been her grandparents’ dining room, but when Mae opened the bed and breakfast, she’d wanted a space for herself and Hannah, a place separate from the guests, for them to relax in without having to share with strangers. As the kitchen was large enough to dine in, this seemed like the perfect solution. This room was smaller than the living room (and seemed smaller still as Mae’s desk was squeezed into an alcove), but she’d made it a cosy space for them both. An old but sigh-inducing sofa took up the bulk of the space, with hand-knitted patchwork blankets draped over the back for chilly nights curled up in front of the telly.

  ‘Here we go,’ Mae said as she returned to the living room with her laptop. Thankfully, Melody had chosen the side of the sofa that hadn’t been abused by the feline intruder, and Mae sat there now, cringing inwardly about the state her dress was going to be in when she stood up. ‘I’ll just take a few details and tell you a little bit about our bed and breakfast, and then I’ll give you a quick tour and show you to your room.’ Mae opened her laptop, which she’d already turned on at her desk, and clicked on her bookings file, deleting the Robertsons’ data so she could add Melody’s details instead. ‘We’re a small bed and breakfast – there are just two rooms available – and I live here with my four-year-old daughter, Hannah. She’s upstairs, but I’m sure she’ll make her presence known soon.’ Luckily, Melody laughed and didn’t run for the hills (or cliffs) at the prospect of cohabiting with a small child. ‘Breakfast is available from seven, and there’ll be a selection of fresh pastries, cereal, toast and fruit to help yourself to. There’s a kettle in your room, but feel free to make tea or coffee in the kitchen too. I’ll take you through in a moment and show you where everything is.’

  Mae continued with the bed and breakfast details, making sure to include vital information such as the price per night, before taking down Melody’s details and booking her in.

  ‘How many nights were you planning on staying in Clifton-on-Sea?’ she asked. ‘The room is available for the next two weeks.’

  ‘I’ll only need a couple of nights,’ Melody said. ‘I’m sort of flitting from one town to the next.’

  ‘Oh? Sounds interesting.’

  ‘It’s for a photography project.’ Melody held up the camera dangling from the strap around her neck. ‘I’m visiting as many coastal towns in the north as I can and capturing moments of the great British seaside.’

  ‘That sounds wonderful. I’d love to see your photos so far.’

  Melody’s gaze dropped to her camera, her hair falling in front of her pink-tinged cheeks as she fiddled with the buttons. ‘Um, maybe. I’m not sure if they’re any good. I’m not a professional photographer or anything.’

  ‘I’m sure they’re amazing.’ Mae smiled at Melody before closing the laptop and shifting it onto the coffee table. ‘Shall I give you the brief but grand tour?’

  Mae led Melody through the house, starting with the kitchen, which Mae adored. The room was large, with a light and airy feel due to the high ceilings and French doors that led to the garden at the back of the house. A long breakfast bar separated the kitchen and dining area, with four tall stools lined up along it.

  ‘The breakfast things will be set out here,’ Mae said, indicating the breakfast bar. ‘But, like I said, feel free to make yourself a drink in here whenever you want. Make yourself at home, in here and the living room. There’s just one room that’s private down here.’ Mae led the way out of the kitchen and indicated the family room. ‘There’s a bathroom upstairs, but your room is up in the attic and has its own shower room. Come up and have a look.’

  Mae led the way up the stairs, pointing out the main bathroom before continuing up to the attic room. The room was gorgeous and cosy, with dove-grey walls and soft-blue furnishings. She’d managed to fit a double bed in the middle of the room, with built-in storage on one side and an en-suite shower room on the other. There was a dormer window at the back, with a sofa pushed along the wall, invitingly dressed with fluffy scatter cushions in shades of blue, pink and grey.

  ‘I’ll leave you to get settled in,’ Mae said after the tour. ‘Give me a shout if you need anything.’

  Climbing down the attic stairs, Mae checked on Hannah, who had forgotten about the telly and was busy playing with her Shopkins figures in her bedroom. Mae had just returned to the kitchen and was about to put the kettle on when the doorbell rang and the bed and breakfast tour started all over again.

  Chapter Nine

  Melody

  Melody hadn’t been kidding when she told the landlady of the bed and breakfast she’d stayed in some grotty places over the last couple of weeks; there had been gloomy rooms, questionable stains on sheets, clogged plugholes and drains, and a general air of ickiness. But the Seafront Bed and Breakfast was truly beautiful. The rooms looked like lifestyle-magazine spreads come to life, but they had a homely, lived-in feel too. She’d been a bit apprehensive to begin with, stepping into such a luxurious home when she was feeling dishevelled – and, let’s be honest, a bit sweaty – after her train journey and trek through town in the heat. But then she’d spotted the cat hairs on the sofa and felt more at ease. Any home owner who allowed their cat to laze on their posh sofa couldn’t be too precious, so she’d been able to relax and sink into the sofa herself.

  Melody’s room was just as beautiful as the rest of the property. The room was tastefully – and thoughtfully – kitted out and the welcoming basket of goodies she found on the bed was a nice touch, as was the private shower room, which Melody made use of as soon as she’d unpacked her rucksack. She felt much better as she emerged from her room in a clean pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Heading downstairs, she found the landlady sitting in the kitchen with another woman. Both were perched at the breakfast bar with cups of tea and coffee in front of them.

  ‘Melody, come and meet Willow,’ Mae said, twisting on her stool to face her. ‘She’s just arrived too.’

  ‘Hello.’ Melody stepped towards the pair, holding out a hand for the new arrival to shake. But, completely ignoring the proffered hand, the woman hopped off her stool and threw her arms around Melody for a quick hug.

  ‘It’s lovely to meet you! Where are you from? How long are staying?’ Willow hopped back up onto her stool and patted the empty seat next to her. ‘Come and sit with us and tell us everything.’

  Melody hesitated. She’d been planning on heading out into town again, perhaps heading up the cliffs to take some photos of the town from up there. There were so many towns to visit, so many views and moments to capture, that she didn’t really have time to sit and chat. She’d be returning home – and to her day job – in less than a week, so she had to squeeze every precious moment out of the next few days.

  ‘I’ll pop the kettle back on,’ Mae said, sliding off her stool. ‘Tea? Coffee?’

  The cliffs could wait a few more minutes, Melody decided as she climbed up onto the stool. She was suddenly gasping for a cup of tea now the offer had been made. She hadn’t had a cup since early that morning, before she’d checked out of the last bed and breakfast and hopped onto the train to Clifton-on-Sea.

  ‘Tea would be great, thanks. Milk, no sugar.’

  ‘Did you find everything you needed in your room?’ Mae asked as she
flicked the kettle on.

  ‘Yes, thanks. The room’s great – much better than all the others I’ve stayed in.’

  A cautious smile teased the corners of Mae’s pillar-box-red lips. ‘Really?’

  ‘Absolutely. You wouldn’t believe some of the dumps I’ve stayed in. This place is amazing.’

  ‘It really is,’ Willow agreed. ‘And I’m not just saying that because I’ve been living in a work site.’ She explained about the work-in-progress state of her new house and the disastrous turn of events that day. ‘I hope my house is half as nice as this place once we’ve finished.’

  ‘I’ve seen some of your creations,’ Mae said, placing a cup of tea in front of Melody and joining the ladies at the breakfast bar. ‘Your house is going to beautiful.’

  ‘Creations?’ Melody asked.

  ‘I upcycle,’ Willow explained. ‘I take old, unloved objects and breathe new life into them.’

  ‘She made a boat into a bed,’ Mae said. ‘It was incredible!’

  ‘Incredibly heavy,’ Willow said. ‘Thanks for your help at the shop earlier, by the way. I don’t know how Malcolm’s going to manage once he gets it home.’ Willow drained her cup of coffee. ‘Speaking of the shop, I really should be getting back. It’s been closed all day and I’ve got a delivery later.’

  ‘I think I passed your shop earlier,’ Melody said as Willow hopped off her stool. ‘Up by the station?’

  ‘That’s it,’ Willow said with a nod. ‘I usually have an assistant, but he’s not well so I had to close when the builder phoned with the impending doom news.’

  ‘I’ll try and pop in before I move on,’ Melody said. ‘Buy a souvenir or two, though perhaps not a boat bed. It might be a bit of a squeeze on the train.’

  ‘I’m not sure it’d fit in the overhead compartment,’ Willow agreed as she looped her handbag over her shoulder. She checked the time on the kitchen clock and pulled a face. ‘Really sorry. Must dash, but we’ll have a proper chat later.’