‘Hello again.’
Mae had returned to the kitchen with a man in tow. Willow frowned at him, wondering why he looked vaguely familiar. Had he been in the shop recently?
‘Sorry, we met in the pub earlier. Local vet, bloke with a bag of chips?’
Ah, yes. Willow remembered now.
‘This is Alfie,’ Mae said. ‘He helped me track you down this afternoon.’
Willow flashed a grateful smile. ‘Thanks for that. I don’t know what I would have done if Mae hadn’t offered me the room. I’d probably be staring at a pile of canvas and poles, wondering why they didn’t look like a tent.’
Alfie laughed. ‘I have to admit, erecting tents isn’t really my thing either. Camping in general has little appeal, actually.’
Willow shuddered. ‘Just think of the bugs. Ugh.’ She shuddered again before turning to Mae. ‘I really can’t thank you enough.’
Mae gave a wave of her hand. ‘There’s really no need. It’s what I’m here for.’
There was a series of thumps from the hallway before Hannah bounded into the room, throwing herself at Alfie, who scooped her up and held her wriggling body in the air, the kitchen filling with the girl’s happy squeals.
‘Put me down, put me down!’ she demanded, but as soon as Alfie returned her feet to solid ground, she demanded he do it again. Which he did, three times. Willow watched, amused by the game.
‘No more now,’ Mae said when Hannah insisted on another go. ‘It’s dinnertime, little lady. Go and sit down, please.’
‘Aww, no fair.’ Hannah’s whole body seemed to slump as she made her way to the table. She clambered onto one of the chairs and picked up a fork, twisting it this way and that so it shone in the light. ‘Is Alfie having tea with us?’
‘Oh. I’m not sure. That wasn’t the plan, but there’s plenty. If you’d like to?’ Mae looked flustered as she spoke to Alfie, her cheeks taking on a reddish tinge, her hands taking on a life of their own as they flapped about.
‘Thanks, but I should be getting back to the surgery,’ Alfie said. ‘I have a few late appointments. I just wanted to pop over and make sure everything was okay after this afternoon. We’ll have dinner another time, though. When it’s planned and not sprung on us by this very cheeky little monkey.’ He tickled Hannah, making her giggle, before turning to Willow. ‘It was nice to see you again. I’m glad it all worked out.’
Hannah leaned in towards Willow as Mae led Alfie out of the kitchen.
‘That’s Alfie,’ she whispered. ‘He wants to kiss my mummy.’ She giggled while Willow sneaked a look towards the hallway, but Mae and Alfie were out of earshot. ‘I heard Aunt Corinne tell Mummy that he’s a good man, but Mummy said she doesn’t need him. I think that’s because Alfie’s a vet and we don’t—’
‘What are you whispering about over there, little lady?’ Mae asked, suddenly appearing back in the kitchen and making both Willow and Hannah jump.
Hannah threw herself back in her seat. ‘Nothing.’
‘Hmm.’ Mae cocked an eyebrow at her daughter. ‘I hope you weren’t gossiping over there.’
‘Nope,’ Hannah said, smiling sweetly.
‘Good, because I’d hate it if it slipped out who I saw you sharing a packet of sweets with in the school playground on the last day of term…’
‘Mu-um.’ Hannah covered her face with her hands while Mae giggled.
‘You thought I hadn’t seen, but mums know everything.’
‘It was just a packet of sweets,’ Hannah said. ‘I don’t want to be his girlfriend. Ugh!’
‘Then why are you blushing?’ Mae teased.
‘I’m not,’ Hannah said while covering her hot cheeks with her little hands. ‘Can we shut up about Jack now?’ Her eyes widened while Mae burst out laughing at Hannah’s slip-up.
Willow sat back, surveying the scene between mother and daughter. She had no doubt life could be tough for a single mum, but Mae seemed to be doing a wonderful job and taking it all in her stride. Willow was terrified at the mere thought of a life without Ethan by her side, but here was Mae, getting on with her life, despite the setbacks.
She wasn’t simply lucky, Willow thought. She was strong and determined and in control, and Willow only wished she had a tiny scrap of Mae’s capabilities.
Chapter Eleven
Melody
Melody somehow found herself sitting in the pub with Hugo, two pints sitting on the table in front of them and Scoop curled up by their feet. One minute they’d been up on the clifftop, Hugo annoying the hell out of her, and the next they were strolling down to the harbour, though Melody had been in search of a photo opportunity rather than a cosy night in the pub with this strange man and his dog.
‘You’re not originally from round here,’ Melody had guessed as they’d strolled along the main road into the harbour earlier. ‘Your accent reminds me of… someone.’
Hugo had slid his gaze sideways towards Melody, but she didn’t elaborate. ‘I’m from Manchester, but I’ve been living here for the past five years.’
Melody nodded. Ollie had been from Manchester too. ‘What brought you to Clifton-on-Sea?’ Hugo glanced at her again with a smirk, and all became clear. ‘Ah, a girl.’
Hugo sighed dreamily. ‘Yup, a girl.’
‘Are you still with her?’
Hugo laughed. ‘She dumped me three weeks after I moved here to be with her.’
‘Ouch.’
Hugo gave a gentle tug on the lead as Scoop started to scrabble towards the road. ‘Ouch indeed.’
‘But you stayed here anyway?’
‘I’d fallen in love again.’
Melody turned to Hugo, an eyebrow quirked in either shock or admiration – she wasn’t sure which.
‘But not with another girl,’ Hugo said. ‘With Maisy.’
Maisy sounded like a girl to Melody. She frowned, trying to figure it out.
‘Don’t look so confused,’ Hugo said. ‘You’ve met Maisy.’
‘I have?’
‘Yup, and she’s a beauty.’
‘I thought Maisy wasn’t a girl.’
‘She isn’t.’ Hugo gave another gentle tug on the lead, steering Scoop away from the kerb. ‘She’s an ice-cream van.’
Oh God. Melody felt a little bit queasy. ‘Are you in a relationship with Maisy?’ She’d watched a documentary about these fetishes a couple of years ago, her face pressed into Ollie’s shoulder to shield her eyes as blokes did unthinkable things to their cars. Ollie had found the whole programme hilarious while Melody had felt grubby and quite sick.
‘You what?’ Hugo threw back his head and roared with laughter. ‘Jesus, woman, no. Yes, I like to enter her, but not like that.’ Hugo laughed again and wiped tears of mirth from his eyes with his free hand. He looked at Melody and cracked up again, spluttering about ice-cream van love.
‘All right, all right, I get it.’ Melody gave Hugo a nudge with her elbow, but she was laughing herself now. ‘But you did say you fell in love with it.’
‘Her,’ Hugo corrected. ‘Not it.’
Melody tutted. ‘Shut up.’
‘But yes, I did fall in love with her – in a non-weirdo-sexual way. I’d spotted her dumped up by the caravan site, wasting away and rotting. So I found out who owned her and bought her before restoring her to her original beauty. My brother’s a mechanic, so he came over to help and ended up staying to set up the business with me.’
‘So you make the ice cream yourself?’ Melody asked, remembering the cold, creamy ice cream on her tongue. It was by far the most delicious ice cream she’d ever tasted.
‘Ice cream-making is in my blood,’ Hugo said. ‘My grandparents on my mum’s side are Italian. We spent every summer in Florence when I was a kid, helping out in their ice-cream parlour. It was only a tiny place, but really popular. I loved it.’
‘So you went into the family business,’ Melody said.
Hugo shrugged. ‘Sort of, yea
h.’
‘But how do you make a living when it isn’t summer?’ Melody asked. ‘I mean, it’s pretty busy now, but I’m guessing there isn’t much trade on the seafront during winter.’
‘No, but then we’re mobile. We go where people need us. We’re pretty popular with wedding receptions and parties. The local church hired us for their Christmas fair last year. We made festive flavour ice creams – mince pie, Christmas pudding, gingerbread, that kind of thing – and they were such a hit, we were booked again for the following Christmas before we’d even finished for the day.’ Hugo pointed ahead to the harbour wall and they crossed over, peering over into the water where the boats were bobbing gently on the current. Melody made an immediate grab for her camera, taking a step back to line up the perfect shot.
‘So, what about you?’ Hugo asked, once Melody had stopped clicking. ‘If this isn’t your job…’ He indicated the camera. ‘Then what do you do?’
‘Who says this isn’t my job?’ Melody asked, jumping down from the harbour wall, where she’d perched to take a few photos from a different angle.
‘You did.’
‘Did I?’ Melody didn’t recall divulging any personal information.
‘You said you don’t show your photos to people,’ Hugo reminded her. ‘I’m no expert on photographers, but I’m pretty sure it’s in their job description to show them off.’
Melody narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you an ice-cream-van man or a detective?’
‘I prefer to think of myself an ice-cream connoisseur.’ Hugo had adopted a serious expression, but he couldn’t hold it for too long and his face broke into a smile once again and he shrugged. ‘I guess I’m a good listener. So, what is it? No, wait! I know what you are.’ He nodded slowly. ‘You’re a nurse.’
‘A nurse? You’ve met me. Do you think I really have the right temperament to be a nurse?’
‘I didn’t say you were good at your job.’ Hugo grinned, already sidestepping to avoid a thwack. ‘Besides, it’s creating the most amazing mental picture.’
Melody folded her arms across her chest. ‘I’m not a nurse.’
‘Flight attendant?’
‘I hate flying.’
‘Police officer?’
‘Nope.’
‘Firefighter?’
‘Stop naming jobs that require uniforms.’
‘Lifeguard? Please tell me you’re a lifeguard who wears a Baywatch-style red swimsuit.’
‘Purlease.’
Hugo sucked in his breath and his eyes lit up. ‘Lollipop lady?’
Melody screwed up her mouth to stop a giggle from escaping. ‘You’re a strange man.’
‘I am, but we still haven’t established what you do for a living.’
‘I’m an admin assistant at a solicitors’ firm. No uniform. No glamour.’ Melody scrunched up her nose. ‘No fun or creativity. I have a lovely boss, though, so I’m lucky.’
‘But you’re not doing a job you love.’
Melody shook her head. ‘How many people get that luxury?’ She rolled her eyes when Hugo thrust a thumb at his own chest. ‘Smug git. You can buy me a pint to make up for reminding me how shitty my life is.’ She pointed across the road to the Fisherman. Which is how she’d ended up sitting in the pub with Hugo.
He was actually good company, now she’d allowed herself to enjoy his presence rather than being irritated by it. He made her laugh with his weirdness and tales from the ice-cream van trade, and she started to relax and open up a bit more about her own life, though she steered away from Ollie and the reason she’d set off on her seaside adventure.
‘Another?’ Hugo asked once they’d finished their pints, and Melody was surprised to find she wasn’t desperate to escape back to her room at the bed and breakfast. She realised she was actually having fun with Hugo, which brought a pang of guilt, jabbing her in the chest and settling uncomfortably in her stomach. There was something else there too, a faint twinge of longing for the life she’d once had. A life crammed with fun, with nights out in the pub, chatting and laughing and feeling alive. But she couldn’t dwell on the past. Remembering was too painful.
‘I’d better be getting back,’ she said, already scraping back her chair. ‘Early start in the morning and all that.’
‘I’ll walk back with you,’ Hugo offered, and Melody found herself accepting gratefully. She wasn’t confident she’d find her way back to the bed and breakfast easily, plus she wasn’t quite ready to end their evening, though she felt selfish for it and the guilt gave her another stab as punishment.
Scoop, who’d been enjoying a snooze under the table, snapped to attention as Hugo stood, alert and ready for action instantly. Melody took the lead and guided the dog out of the pub, but paused as she stepped outside and looked across at the harbour. It was growing dark, the sea turning inky rather than its usual grey, with the lights from the pub and other nearby buildings shimmering on the surface.
‘Would you mind if we stopped for a minute?’ she asked, itching to reach for her camera and capture the moment.
‘Go ahead.’ Hugo, who had followed Melody’s gaze and knew what she needed to do, reached for the dog’s lead, following as she headed across the road to the harbour wall.
‘It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?’ Melody said as she climbed up onto a bench for a slightly higher viewpoint. ‘I can see why you decided to stick around, Maisy aside. I bet there’s loads I haven’t even seen yet.’
‘There’s so much more,’ Hugo said. ‘You should go down to Chapel Cove. It’s so quiet and peaceful. It’s one of my favourite places. And Scoop’s.’
‘Chapel Cove,’ Melody mused. ‘Where is it?’
Hugo pointed further down the coast. ‘About a mile and a half that way. I could take you, if you’d like. I’m not working until the afternoon tomorrow, so we could head up there in the morning with Scoop. He’d love it.’
Melody hopped down from the bench. She hadn’t planned on befriending any locals on her travels, but Hugo could prove invaluable. What if she found the perfect spot at this cove? Plus, she was unable to prevent herself from thinking, she’d like to spend more time with Hugo. The stab of guilt made itself known in response, overriding any other feelings she might have.
‘I’m not sure I have time,’ she said, reaching for Scoop’s lead and wandering away from the harbour wall. ‘I’m only staying for a couple of nights and I was hoping to explore more of the main beach and the pier. But thanks for the offer. It’s very kind of you.’
‘No problem. Just give me a shout if you manage to find a bit of free time. You know where to find me.’
‘In your lurve machine,’ Melody said with a giggle.
‘Hey.’ Hugo adopted a mock-stern expression. ‘Don’t cheapen what Maisy and I have and make it sordid.’
Melody cleared her throat to kill the giggles. ‘Sorry. Do you want me to zip my lips together?’
‘Nah. You can make it up to me by telling me all about your job as a lifeguard.’
‘I’m not a lifeguard,’ Melody pointed out.
Hugo gave a one-shouldered shrug. ‘Make it up. And be specific about the little red swimsuit.’
‘You’re a fucking pervert, do you know that?’
Hugo grinned. ‘Yes.’
‘I’m glad I decided not to go to that cove with you now,’ Melody said. They’d moved past the Fisherman and were heading back along the main road back into town. ‘You’d probably have pretended to drown so I’d give you the kiss of life.’
‘Or I could have just done this,’ Hugo said before stepping in front of Melody and kissing her on the lips. It was a brief kiss, no more than a peck and definitely without tongues, but Melody was stunned. Her feet froze on the ground, her eyes wide as their lips made fleeting contact. Hugo turned, striding off along the path again as though nothing had happened, leaving Melody to scuttle after him with the dog.
‘Do you always go around planting uninvited kisses on women?
’ she asked, swiping a hand across her mouth, ignoring the butterflies swarming in her stomach.
Hugo narrowed his eyes and looked up at the darkening sky before shaking his head. ‘No, you’re the first. Unless you count Nicola Smart. We were six and she ratted on me to the dinner lady. I didn’t kiss another girl until I was fifteen.’
‘Fifteen? Really?’ Melody had caught up to Hugo and was now walking alongside him. She flashed him a sceptical look.
‘Yes, fifteen. I haven’t always been the self-assured man you see before you now.’
‘Self-assured is one word for it, I suppose,’ Melody muttered. The butterflies were still fluttering in her stomach, though at a less frenzied rate now, but she still wouldn’t acknowledge them. She felt guilty enough being with Hugo in the first place, and that was before he’d kissed her.
Chapter Twelve
Mae
Once they’d eaten, Willow insisted on washing the dishes while Mae took Hannah upstairs for a bath. The kitchen was gleaming by the time Mae and a fruity-smelling and pyjamaed Hannah returned.
‘You didn’t have to do all this,’ Mae said. Not only had Willow washed the dishes, she’d dried them and put them away before giving the worktops and top of the stove a thorough clean, removing any hint of sauce splashes.
‘Are you kidding me?’ Willow said. ‘I haven’t had a kitchen of my own to clean for weeks. It was a treat.’
‘So you don’t have a kitchen at all at your new place?’ Mae asked as she flicked on the kettle.
‘Not much of one, no.’ Willow climbed onto a stool at the breakfast bar with a weary sigh. ‘We have an old sink still in there, but it’s certainly seen better days and I can’t wait to rip it out and put a nice new one in. But at least we have running water.’
Mae selected a couple of mugs from the cupboard and turned to frown at Willow. ‘How do you cook?’
Willow pulled a face. ‘We have a little portable hob and a microwave, so we have to be a bit creative with those. It all seemed so romantic when we moved in, but living on a building site with all the dust isn’t fun and you do miss the homely touches and comforts, like a hot bath. We only have a temperamental old shower we’ve nicknamed Groucho because of the racket it makes at the moment. Would you mind?’ She flicked her gaze towards the ceiling. ‘I’ve been dreaming of soaking in a bath for weeks now.’
The Little Bed & Breakfast by the Sea Page 8