The Little Bed & Breakfast by the Sea

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The Little Bed & Breakfast by the Sea Page 13

by Jennifer Joyce


  ‘I’m not suggesting you sleep around with just anyone,’ Eloise said. ‘But as far as I can recall, you haven’t been on one date since you had Hannah.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, I think it’s time you put yourself first for a change.’ Now it was Eloise’s turn to raise a hand. ‘I know, I know. You’ve got the bed and breakfast and Hannah, but I can babysit. Frank and Corinne are always happy to look after Hannah. They love spending time with her. Go out. Have fun. Meet new people. I’ve heard about this app where you swipe at people or something. Why don’t you give it a go? I’ll sign up too. It’ll be fun.’

  Mae had been shaking her head during her mum’s whole speech. ‘I’m not interested in dating, Mum.’

  ‘I know he hurt you, darling – and I’m not just talking about Shane.’ Mae winced at the mention of her ex, the bloke who’d walked away from his responsibilities and had never been heard from again. ‘Your dad didn’t just let me down, he let you down too, but not all men are like him and Shane.’

  Mae hadn’t seen her father since she was fifteen. It had been an accidental sighting – her dad hadn’t really been in contact for the past five or six years – but then there he was, out shopping in Preston. With his new family. A wife, a little girl clasping hold of his hand, a boy in a buggy. A family Mae had known nothing about until that moment. But the worst part was, he’d walked straight past her, not a hint of recognition on his face.

  Mae hadn’t seen or heard from him since. It had dented her confidence, made her reluctant to trust men as she started to date, but Shane had managed to worm his way in, earn her trust – and look where she’d ended up.

  Mae stuck her chin in the air. ‘I know that, but I’m still not interested. I’m happy as I am.’

  Eloise cocked an eyebrow. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, Mum, really.’

  Eloise’s eyebrow remained at full attention, not convinced in the slightest. ‘I just don’t want you to end up like me.’

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Mae smirked. ‘Apart from the obvious?’

  Eloise straightened the condiments on the table, even though they looked perfectly neat to Mae. ‘I wanted more children. Not a great horde, but I wanted you to have at least a brother or sister.’

  ‘Then why didn’t you?’ It wasn’t as though Eloise had been short of admirers. She’d had plenty of boyfriends and flings since her divorce.

  ‘I never let myself trust another man completely. It’s why most of my relationships fizzled out. Yes, I liked to go out and have fun, but I’d never let my guard down enough to fall in love again. By the time I did, it was too late to be having babies.’ Eloise finally looked up from the salt and pepper pots and caught her daughter’s eye. ‘Do you remember Martin?’

  ‘Of course.’ Martin had been Eloise’s longest-lasting boyfriend after her divorce, the relationship spanning from shortly before Mae’s eight birthday until after her eleventh. Mae had liked Martin and been gutted when the relationship ended.

  ‘He asked me to marry him, back when we were together.’ Eloise rubbed at her finger, where her wedding band had once sat. ‘He asked me four times but I turned him down every single time. In the end, he left.’ She shrugged. ‘He wanted more than I was willing to give, so he found it elsewhere. There’s only so much rejection a man can take before he moves on. I heard he got married six months later.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I had no idea.’

  ‘It’s my biggest regret,’ Eloise said. ‘That, and the frizzy perm I had in the eighties.’

  She smiled, and Mae found herself returning the gesture. The perm had been horrendous. Mae had giggled over the photos many times.

  ‘I saw him a couple of weeks ago,’ Eloise said, serious again. ‘Bumped into him at the supermarket. He’s still married, with three teenage kids now. So he got everything he wanted from life.’ Eloise reached across the table and took Mae’s hand. ‘I don’t want you to get to my age and look back with regret. Or worse, get to Mrs Hornchurch’s age and end up alone. Her children all moved out to start their own lives, poor Mr Hornchurch passed away, and now she’s all by herself in that big house. We both know she’s lonely.’

  ‘But that’s the thing,’ Mae said. ‘I’m not lonely.’ Not always. ‘And I’m not interested in starting a new relationship, or even going on a date or two. I’m happy as I am.’

  ‘I suppose you don’t have to go to the effort of shaving your legs.’ Eloise shrugged. ‘But I still don’t believe you.’

  ‘You don’t have to believe me,’ Mae said before lowering her voice. ‘But can you promise me you’ll never, ever speak about my sex life in public again?’

  ‘Sex life?’ Eloise said, raising her eyebrows and failing to lower her voice. ‘What bloody sex life?’

  And it was at that moment that two things happened: the waitress arrived with their order and Alfie passed their table, both no doubt overhearing Eloise’s scornful enquiry.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Melody

  The ground was soft underfoot, the spongy mud carpeted with twigs, leaves and patches of moss. The canopy of leaves above them, green and lush and celebrating the days until autumn sent them fluttering to the ground, provided a screen against the baking sun. With the sunlight largely blocked, the ground was prevented from drying out and the screen had the added bonus of providing relief from the intense midday sun as Melody, Hugo and Scoop Dog ambled along. As she stepped over an exposed tree root, the scattered twigs sinking into the dirt track worn through the copse they were trailing through, Melody was glad she’d slipped her trainers on that morning and not a pair of flip-flops

  ‘This is a popular spot for dog-walkers too,’ Hugo had said as he’d led her through the iron gates of the park earlier. ‘But we should be okay for a while.’

  They’d headed straight for the wooded area of the park, with Scoop bounding as far ahead as his lead would allow, sniffing at the ground and trees (and relieving himself against a few). Melody trod carefully over nature’s obstacles, but she still managed to stumble over a particularly well-hidden root, crying out as she lost her footing and headed for the ground. Luckily, a pair of arms caught her before she hit the deck, righting her and making sure she was steady again.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Hugo asked, checking her over with his eyes. ‘Did you hurt yourself?’

  ‘Only my pride.’ Melody rotated her ankles in turn to make sure she hadn’t injured herself. ‘But I’m fine. Can we gloss over the fact I’m a clumsy idiot who nearly went down like a sack of spuds?’

  Hugo made a show of puffing out his chest. ‘And forget I just saved you from certain injury?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  Hugo exhaled, relaxing his upper body. ‘Fair enough. It’s forgotten. Are you hungry?’

  Melody placed a hand on her stomach. Had it growled without her realising?

  ‘There’s a café just through here.’ Hugo pointed to the right, where the path forked to a clearing in the trees. ‘I’m starving. Shall we get some lunch before I have to start my shift?’

  ‘Only if you’ll let me pay,’ Melody said, though they’d already turned towards the clearing. Now food had been mentioned, she realised she was pretty hungry too. ‘You paid for the rides and candyfloss this morning, so it’s only fair.’

  Hugo shrugged. ‘That’s fine by me. As long as I get some food, I’m happy.’

  Melody held up a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun as the trees petered out. They followed the path as it wound its way across a patch of grass until it reached a paved area of the park. An octagonal building lay ahead, an awning reaching out from one of the sides to provide shelter for the small cluster of tables and chairs beneath it. Melody headed inside to order the food while Hugo and Scoop secured a table.

  ‘I can see why you like this place so much,’ Melody said when she joined Hugo at the table after placing their order. There was a large children’s playground ah
ead, with sprawling fields either side. Currently, there was a game of rounders taking place, while others made the most of the sunshine as they stretched out on blankets to read or enjoy a picnic with friends and family. Melody stretched her legs out in front of her, enjoying the warmth on her skin. The awning was providing almost as good a shield as the trees had, so she didn’t feel like she was being baked to a crisp.

  ‘We love it.’ Hugo reached down to rub Scoop’s fur. The dog was panting under the shade of the table. ‘Scoop and I come here most days, and when the weather’s cooler, James and I park the van over there.’ Hugo pointed towards the playground and winked. ‘Pester power earns us a decent wage.’

  ‘Do you drive along the streets with music playing to signal your arrival?’ Melody asked.

  ‘Of course, though at the moment we’re sticking to the beach. We make more money down there while the sun’s shining.’

  ‘I thought you were all about the ice cream,’ Melody said. ‘But you’re actually a ruthless businessman, aren’t you?’ She nudged Hugo to show she was only teasing.

  ‘Yup, that’s me. I show up, take the kiddies’ money and drive away, laughing maniacally.’

  ‘Do you swim through giant piles of money like Scrooge McDuck?’

  Hugo leaned in towards Melody. ‘You should see my backstroke.’

  Melody giggled, but shut down her mirth as the waitress appeared with their drinks.

  ‘Two Diet Cokes,’ she said, lifting the glasses from the tray and placing them on the table. ‘And a bowl of our finest tap water for Scoop.’

  Melody hadn’t asked for any water for the dog. She watched as the waitress placed the ceramic bowl in front of Scoop before straightening and flashing a bright – flirty? – smile at Hugo.

  ‘Thanks, Carla,’ Hugo said with a beam of his own.

  Carla placed a hand on Hugo’s shoulder. ‘You’re always welcome.’ She removed her hand and started to back away. ‘Your food should be ready in a few minutes. Give me a shout if you need anything.’

  You’re always welcome, Melody mocked in her head. Give me a shout if you need anything.

  Melody wasn’t sure why she was being a cow; the waitress seemed pleasant enough, and she was obviously kind-hearted enough to think of Scoop. The dog was lapping enthusiastically at the water, droplets of water splatting onto the hot concrete in his haste. The bowl was almost empty by the time the waitress returned with fat hotdogs smothered in fried onions.

  ‘I brought the ketchup out ready,’ Carla told Hugo, placing a hand between his shoulderblades. ‘I know you can’t eat a hotdog without it.’

  Did she have to keep touching him? It was hardly professional, was it? Melody didn’t paw at the clients who came into the solicitors’ office.

  ‘Can I get you anything else?’ Carla was looking at Melody as she asked, though she still had the palm of her hand resting on Hugo’s back.

  ‘No, thank you. This is great.’ Melody picked up her hotdog and sank her teeth into it, watching as Carla made her way back into the café. ‘Oh my God,’ she said after swallowing her first mouthful. ‘This is amazing.’

  ‘You didn’t think we visited the park just for the trees and grass, did you?’ Hugo broke off the end of his sausage and, blowing on it to cool it down, passed it down to Scoop. ‘It’s a shame they’re closing down.’

  ‘They are?’

  Hugo nodded as he squirted a long, generous line of ketchup onto his hotdog. ‘At the end of the summer. The owner’s selling up and moving.’

  ‘That’s a shame.’ Realising Carla might be out of a job in a matter of weeks, Melody wished she’d had kinder thoughts towards her. ‘But hopefully the new owners will make hotdogs just as delicious as these.’ She took another bite, sighing with pleasure. This was hands down the best hotdog she’d ever tasted. It was far superior to the hotdog she’d had from a street vendor in New York. She’d been bitterly disappointed by that experience.

  ‘Mmm, maybe.’ Hugo took his first bite, already reaching for a napkin to mop up any ketchup smears.

  ‘You don’t sound too optimistic,’ Melody said. Hugo shrugged, still chewing. ‘You never know, it might end up being an even better café.’

  ‘Or maybe not even a café at all,’ Hugo said.

  ‘What else would it be?’ They were sitting in the middle of a park – it was hardly likely to reopen as a bank or estate agency.

  ‘An ice-cream parlour?’ Hugo suggested. He took another huge bite of his hotdog, chewing slowly while Melody digested his words.

  ‘You?’ she asked. ‘You’re going to buy the café?’ She had to wait until Hugo had swallowed before receiving the answer.

  ‘We’re thinking about it.’ Hugo scratched the back of his neck while giving a one-shouldered shrug. For the first time since Melody had met him, his tone wasn’t filled with the bravado she’d become accustomed to.

  ‘You don’t sound too sure,’ Melody said and Hugo shrugged again.

  ‘It’s been a dream of mine to open an ice-cream parlour like my grandparents’ had for as long as I can remember. But dreams and reality are very different, aren’t they?’

  Melody nodded. She understood completely. ‘It’s like me and my photography. It’s been a hobby of mine for years, but while other people have told me I’m good enough to turn it into a profession, I’m not so sure.’ She held up a hand. ‘But I’ve tasted your ice creams and they’re absolutely delicious. I think you’d ace it as a…’ She scrabbled around her brain for the correct term, but didn’t find it. ‘An ice cream-atier?’

  Hugo laughed. ‘You just made that up, didn’t you?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Melody said, dragging out the word. ‘It works for chocolate makers.’ She shook her head. ‘Anyway, the sentiment is still the same.’

  ‘I’m keen to go ahead,’ Hugo admitted. ‘But James is more reserved. He’s thinking more practically – like how much custom would we get during the colder months? – whereas I’m thinking more passionately, remembering our grandparents’ place, packed and happy and fun. I’ve already planned the décor.’

  ‘Have you?’

  Hugo nodded and turned to the café’s window. ‘I’d want a curved counter with tall stools for customers to sit on, black-and-white-checked flooring, chrome tables and chairs with cream leatherette seating. And it’d be bright, with neon lights and one of those fifties-style jukeboxes.’

  ‘It sounds wonderful,’ Melody said. ‘But is your brother right? How would you stay in business during winter?’

  ‘Our van proves it’s possible,’ Hugo said. ‘People do still want ice cream outside of summer. We could make the winter-themed ice creams we sold at the Christmas fair, but we could also offer hot chocolate, tea and coffee – I’m sure that’d entice the parents in when they bring their kids to the park to burn off some energy.’

  Hugo’s face was lit up, his free, non-hotdog-holding hand animated as he spoke. He was obviously passionate about this new venture and Melody found herself looking into the café, imagining it for herself.

  ‘It does sound fabulous,’ she said. ‘And definitely the kind of place I’d call into regularly.’

  ‘You’ll have to come back and visit when we’re up and running.’ Hugo winked at her and shoved the last portion of his hotdog into his mouth.

  It was a nice thought, but Melody doubted she’d be retracing her steps once she returned home and the project was over. She was doing this for Ollie, after all, and befriending an ice-cream-van man wasn’t part of the plan.

  They wandered back to Hugo’s flat once they’d finished their lunch, dropping off Scoop before they made their way to the ice-cream van on the promenade in time for Hugo’s shift.

  ‘I’ve had fun today,’ Melody said as they stopped outside the van. She pushed away the memory of the failed Ferris wheel ride that morning. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I’ve had fun too,’ Hugo said. ‘It’s been nice to see the town through fres
h eyes again. You grow accustomed to it, so it’s great to be reminded of how special this place is.’

  There was an awkward moment as they stood facing each other, knowing now was the time to say goodbye. They probably wouldn’t see each other after this.

  ‘I should get going,’ Melody eventually said. ‘Let you get to work.’

  Hugo nodded, stepping closer to the van. But he paused and turned back around. ‘Or you could stay? Help out?’

  Melody narrowed her eyes. ‘Are you just wanting some free labour for the afternoon?’

  Hugo grinned. ‘Damn it! You know me too well.’

  ‘It does sound fun,’ Melody said. ‘I’ve never worked in an ice-cream van before.’ In fact, she’d never even stepped foot inside one.

  ‘It’s fun, trust me. And I’ll let you sample the goods.’

  ‘Okay.’ Melody nodded. ‘On one condition.’

  ‘Name it.’

  ‘I get to bring my camera.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mae

  Mae wanted to slide slowly down her seat, lowering her body until she disappeared under the table where she could hide from Alfie, the waitress, and anyone else who might have overheard Eloise’s questioning about her sex life.

  ‘Hello, Mae.’ Alfie, pausing by the table to increase her mortification, gave an awkward little wave.

  He’d definitely heard.

  Bollocks.

  Mae forced her lips into what could be described as a smile – but only if you weren’t quite sure of the definition. ‘Hello, Alfie. Nice to see you.’

  ‘Ah!’ Eloise gasped and clapped her hands together. ‘So you’re Alfie!’

  Mae’s eyes widened. Her mouth gaped. What the hell was her mother playing at? So you’re Alfie! Spoken as though Mae had been discussing the bloke with her mum, which she absolutely had not. She didn’t think she’d ever mentioned him in front of Eloise before this very moment. She knew how her mum’s mind worked: male friend = love interest.

 

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