The Little Bed & Breakfast by the Sea

by Jennifer Joyce

  ‘Not that I’ve noticed.’

  ‘You’d notice,’ Melody said, matter-of-factly. ‘If you were interested in him it’d jump right out at you and make you insanely jealous.’

  Mae took a sip of her wine before turning to Melody. ‘I’m not sure that’s a good thing, is it? Being insanely jealous?’

  Melody shrugged. ‘It’d show you care, deep down.’

  ‘Or maybe it’d be a case of wanting what you can’t have.’ Mae gave her own version of the am-I-right? eyebrow quirk. ‘Anyway, enough probing of me and the men in my life. What about you?’

  ‘What about me?’ Melody asked, her face a perfect picture of innocence.

  ‘I was talking to some guy in the pub earlier who says you’ve been hanging out over the past couple of days.’

  Melody’s brow creased. ‘Hugo?’

  Mae shrugged. ‘I don’t know who he was, but he was extremely pleased to hear you’re still here. So, come on. Spill, lady.’

  Melody lifted her free hand up, palm out. ‘There’s nothing to spill. Hugo’s been showing me around town, that’s all. To help with my project.’

  ‘So there’s no romance on the cards?’ Mae’s eyes narrowed, her tone teasing.

  ‘Absolutely not. Like you, I’ve sworn off men. Willow’s the only one romantically involved around here. She’s the only one madly in lurve.’

  ‘See, this is what I want.’ Mae threw her hand in Willow’s direction. ‘True, uncomplicated love. I don’t want the risks. I don’t want the possibility of being hurt and let down. I just want love. Easy, pure and simple love.’

  Which seemed like an appropriate time for Willow to burst into tears.

  The tears seemed to sober her up instantly, washing away the false cheer the wine had provided her with at the same time. She apologised profusely, covering her face to hide the tears and her shame. It seemed she wasn’t quite as adept at keeping her emotions to herself as she’d thought.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She peeked: it was Mae, worry etched on her face.

  ‘Don’t be.’ Mae, keeping one comforting hand on Willow’s shoulder, reached for a box of tissues. ‘Let it out, whatever it is.’

  Willow pulled a tissue out of the box and began to mop the tears. She paused, horrified, as she spotted Melody across the room, struggling and wincing as she manoeuvred herself off the sofa.

  ‘Don’t get up, please.’ Willow grabbed another tissue and blew her nose. ‘You’ll hurt yourself even more.’

  ‘She’s right. Stay where you are.’ Mae had such an air of authority as she spoke, so firm yet caring, so mum-like, that it brought a fresh wave of tears. The hand on Willow’s shoulder pulled her in closer, Mae’s other arm wrapping around the opposite shoulder so Willow was completely encircled. ‘Oh, sweetheart. What is it?’

  Mae rocked her gently as she wept. She felt foolish for crying in front of virtual strangers, but now she’d started, she couldn’t seem to stop. After months of keeping it burrowed deep inside, it all came pouring out, writing itself on Willow’s cheeks, erased by the sweeping tissues, but not forgotten.

  ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry,’ Willow said, voice rasping, once all the tears had pushed their way through.

  ‘Stop apologising.’ Mae was still holding Willow, one hand making soothing circles between her shoulder blades. ‘You have nothing to be sorry about. People get upset. I know I do, more often than I let anyone else know. It isn’t a crime. It isn’t a weakness.’

  Willow smiled, but it was a sad smile, a forlorn shadow of the beaming smiles she usually presented to the world. ‘Then why do we hide it so well?’ She huffed out a laugh. ‘Today being the exception, of course.’

  ‘I don’t know, really.’ Mae drew a tissue out of the box and dabbed at the residual moisture on Willow’s cheeks. ‘But we shouldn’t. It doesn’t do anybody any good to bottle it all up.’

  ‘I’ve made such an idiot of myself,’ Willow said.

  ‘You really haven’t. Yesterday, I yelled at my mum about having a vibrator to keep me happy. That’s making an idiot of yourself.’

  ‘A few weeks ago, I started crying in the cereal aisle at the supermarket,’ Melody said. ‘A song came on the radio that reminded me of somebody I love, and I just started howling. There was snot and everything and they made me go and sit in the manager’s office until my mum came to collect me.’

  ‘And you think that beats the vibrator story?’ Mae asked. ‘It was out in public and loud enough for anyone nearby to hear.’

  Melody grinned. ‘Okay, you win.’

  Willow sniffed beside Mae. She’d thought she was spent, but their kindness was encouraging more tears.

  ‘What is it?’ Mae asked, hand still gently circling on Willow’s back. ‘You can tell us. Maybe we can help.’

  Willow shook her head. ‘You can’t.’ She dabbed at her eyes. ‘Things with Ethan and I… It isn’t as easy and uncomplicated as it seems.’

  ‘Is he… not really working away?’ Melody asked gently. ‘Have you two split up?’

  Willow shook her head. ‘No, we’re still very much together, and he’s definitely working away. It’s just… well, it’s just the two of us and it looks like it’s always going to be that way.’

  Melody’s brow furrowed, not quite getting it, though Mae’s grip tightened. ‘You want to start a family.’

  ‘Yes.’ Willow paused momentarily, pressing her lips together to stop the anguished cry from escaping. ‘We both do. Desperately. But it isn’t happening.’

  ‘Do you know why?’ Mae asked.

  Willow shook her head. ‘We’ve been trying for just over two years now. We’ve tried everything: more sex, less sex, legs in the air, every position you can think of. We’ve changed our diet and started exercising more, we’ve quit drinking, and still nothing. Ethan thinks we should go and see our GP, but I’m too scared. What if they tell us we can’t have babies? What if we’re busy creating a beautiful family home for nothing? At least now there’s hope.’

  ‘Oh, sweetheart.’ Mae pulled Willow into a bone-crushing hug. ‘There’s always hope.’

  Willow smiled sadly. ‘But sometimes that hope comes to nothing.’

  ‘There are other ways,’ Melody said. ‘Have you thought about IVF?’

  Willow nodded as she dabbed at her eyes. ‘It’s one of the things we’ve been disagreeing about. I want to keep trying for a little while longer, but Ethan’s keen to start looking into the alternatives. He thinks we should have used the money we’re spending on the house for IVF.’ Willow felt her chest start to heave again as a fresh wave of tears built. ‘But now it looks like we could lose the house – and the money too. Ethan thinks the only solution to save the house is for me to give up my shop and go back to my marketing job. I know he’s right; the shop doesn’t bring in a massive amount once you’ve taken the overheads into account, but I adore my work and that shop means the world to me, but then so does the house. I don’t know what to do.’

  The only thing she was able to do, it seemed, was to drop her face into her hands and weep some more.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Melody

  The sun was already bright, fighting through the curtains and filling the room with warmth and light as Melody woke. Mind still groggy with sleep, she stretched her legs, groaning as she felt her ankle twinge with the movement. Ah, yes. The sprain. She was still in Clifton-on-Sea – and would be for at least another day or two until she could hobble to the train station unaided. She doubted she’d have chance to move on to another town at this rate, which meant she’d have to use the photos she’d already taken for the festival. Hopefully she’d already captured a gem or two, but she wasn’t convinced. The last few weeks had probably been a massive waste of time. Why had she agreed to take part in the festival in the first place? If it wasn’t for Ollie and her promise, she’d have given up by now.

  But she had made that promise,
and she was determined to keep it, even if she humiliated herself in the process.

  Pulling back the covers, she winced as she sat up, but it was her head rather than her ankle this time. How much had they drunk last night? She remembered shaking the last dregs of the second bottle into her glass after poor Willow had gone up to bed – had they opened a third?

  With a gargantuan effort, Melody made it into an upright position, taking the weight on her non-injured foot. Limping across to the shower room was painful, but a vast improvement from the previous day, and she managed to shower and change into her last pair of clean shorts and a vest top. The two sets of stairs were a battle, but she made it down to the kitchen and rewarded herself with a couple of painkillers.

  ‘Is it any better this morning?’ Mae asked as Melody helped herself to a mini Danish pastry from the breakfast bar and limped to the table where Hannah was ploughing through a bowl of cereal at an alarming rate.

  ‘A little.’ Melody stretched out her foot, which was encased in a fresh bandage. ‘I don’t think I could manage a trek up the cliffs, though.’

  ‘Definitely not.’ Mae placed a hand on Melody’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze before dropping into the seat next to her. ‘You need to take it easy. I’m working again today, but I’ll make you some sandwiches for lunch before I go.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that,’ Melody said.

  Mae gave her a pointed look. ‘And you’re going to venture out in search of food, are you? I said you need to rest and I mean it.’

  Mae’s tone was so firm, Melody was half tempted to salute. ‘Speaking of venturing out, is there a laundrette round here? I haven’t seen one on my travels, but I could do with some clean clothes.’

  ‘Use the washing machine here.’ Mae thrust a thumb behind them, to where the machine was sitting.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Melody didn’t want to take advantage, but she had to admit the thought of hobbling across town in search of a laundrette wasn’t appealing.

  ‘Offering you the use of the washing machine is the least I can do,’ Mae said.

  Hannah’s spoon clattering into her bowl made them both jump. ‘Done! Now can I watch telly?’

  ‘Don’t you want to play outside while it’s nice?’ Mae asked, but Hannah shook her head.

  ‘Nanny said we’re going splashing at the beach again today. That’s enough outside. Please can I watch my cartoons?’

  Mae threw her hands up in the air. ‘Fine. But we’re leaving in ten minutes, okay?’

  She took Hannah’s rapid retreat as agreement.

  ‘Is Willow still around?’ Melody asked as Mae grabbed Hannah’s bowl and carried it over to the sink.

  ‘I heard her leave really early this morning. I wanted to see how she was – you know, after last night – but she’d gone before I made it downstairs. Hopefully I’ll catch up with her later.’

  ‘Life is so unfair sometimes,’ Melody said with a sigh.

  ‘It really is,’ Mae agreed. She washed the breakfast things while Melody nibbled at her pastry. She had a whole day stretching ahead of her with little to do other than laundry, so she’d bring her laptop down and use the free time to search through her photos for possible festival-worthy shots.

  ‘Do you need a hand with your washing before I head out?’ Mae asked once she’d dried the dishes and put them away.

  ‘No, thanks. I’m sure I’ll manage.’ Using the table for support, Melody stood and hobbled out of the kitchen, heading up to her room. While she was up there, she grabbed her laptop as well as her washing to save another painful trip later.

  ‘I’ve made you some sandwiches,’ Mae said when she returned to the kitchen. She tapped the fridge as she passed. ‘Feel free to help yourself to anything else you want. I’ll be back early evening, so don’t worry about cooking.’

  ‘You don’t have to…’ Melody began to say, but Mae held up her hand.

  ‘I insist.’ She headed out into the hallway as the doorbell rang, returning a moment later with Mrs Hornchurch.

  ‘I just wanted to see how the patient’s getting on,’ the neighbour said, smiling at Melody. ‘You’re looking perkier this morning. There’s a bit of colour in your cheeks.’ She held up a cling film-wrapped plate. ‘I also brought you some leftover pie – it’s pork and apple, my mum’s old recipe – which I thought you might like for lunch. It’ll save you having to make anything yourself.’

  ‘How thoughtful,’ Mae said, taking the plate and adding it to the fridge alongside the sandwiches.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Hornchurch,’ Melody said. ‘You’re all being so kind to me.’

  Mrs Hornchurch gave a wave of her hand. ‘Just being neighbourly. You give me a shout if you need anything, dear.’

  ‘I will, thank you.’

  ‘I was just on my way out, Mrs Hornchurch,’ Mae said, attempting to shepherd her neighbour back out into the hallway, but Mrs Hornchurch was having none of it.

  ‘No worries, dear. I’ll stay and keep Melody company for a few minutes.’

  ‘I think Melody might like to rest,’ Mae said and Mrs Hornchurch nodded.

  ‘Absolutely.’ Mrs Hornchurch turned to Melody. ‘You sit down, dear, and I’ll pop the kettle on.’

  ‘That isn’t really what I meant.’ Mae flashed Melody a panicked look, but Melody wasn’t put out by Mrs Hornchurch’s company.

  ‘Actually, that would be great,’ she said. ‘I’d love a cup of tea.’

  Mae raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you sure? Wouldn’t you rather have a lie-down?’ She was giving Melody a get-out clause, but Melody thought the neighbour was sweet and probably more in need of company herself than the other way around. And it wasn’t as though she was busy. She could spare a few minutes for a chat and a cup of tea.

  ‘It’s fine, really. You get off and we’ll have a nice natter, won’t we, Mrs Hornchurch?’

  Mrs Hornchurch beamed. ‘I like this one, Mae. She can come back any time.’

  Mrs Hornchurch ended up bustling Melody out of the way as she attempted to put her clothes into the washing machine, insisting on taking over the job. Melody wasn’t entirely comfortable with the near-stranger handling her smalls, but Mrs Hornchurch turned out to be a formidable character and Melody felt she had little choice in the matter. The neighbour insisted on sticking around long enough to peg the washing out on the line, so it was late morning by the time Melody finally opened her laptop.

  She was starting to feel peckish and was considering diving into her pre-prepared lunch when the doorbell rang. The painkillers from earlier had kicked in, so the journey from kitchen to front door wasn’t too unpleasant and more than worth it when she saw Hugo standing on the doorstep. She felt her mouth stretching into a smile and didn’t think she could have halted its progress even if she’d wanted to.

  ‘Hugo! Hi!’ Her voice was too high. Too keen. She needed to tone it down. She leaned casually against the doorframe. ‘Are you here to see Mae or…’

  Hugo clutched his chest. ‘I’m here to see you, obviously. I find you too irresistible to stay away.’ Melody rolled her eyes, but she was secretly pleased. ‘Mae mentioned you were still here – and injured.’ He looked down at her bandaged ankle. ‘And said you might appreciate some company.’ He held his arms out wide. ‘So, here I am.’

  ‘You’d better come in then.’ Melody limped out of the way, leading the way to the kitchen. Too late, she realised her laptop was still on the table, open and displaying a shot of the evening coastline at Fleetwood.

  ‘Wow.’ Hugo looked from the laptop to Melody, his brow lifting and mouth agape. ‘Is this one of yours?’

  ‘Yes.’ Melody lunged at the laptop as best she could with her injury and snapped the laptop shut. ‘Can I get you a cup of tea? Coffee?’

  ‘You’re amazing,’ Hugo said, ignoring the offer of a drink. ‘As a photographer, obviously. As a person, you’re all right. Not too bad.’ He grinned at Melody and she nudged him in the ribs
with her elbow. ‘Seriously, though, you should show off your work more. Can I?’ He indicated the laptop and Melody relented with a small shrug. What the hell? He’d already seen one – and it wasn’t even one of her better shots.

  ‘Wow,’ Hugo said, over and over again, as he clicked through the photos. Melody hovered nearby, cringing, spotting all the flaws immediately. It was all too much, so she limped away, sitting at the opposite side of the table so she couldn’t see the screen.

  There was a sudden whoop of delight and Hugo rubbed his hands together. ‘Ooh, what is this?’ Melody leapt from her seat, wincing as her foot made contact with the floor. She hobbled back round to Hugo’s side, cringing again when she saw the photo. ‘Have you been stalking me? I knew you fancied me. Are there any more?’

  The photo Hugo had spotted was the one from the beach, the one she’d taken of him and Scoop down by the shallows. She’d totally forgotten it was in there.

  ‘Is that you?’ She made a pretence of leaning in close and squinting at the image that was unquestionably Hugo Marsland and his dog. ‘Oh my God, it is. How weird.’

  Hugo turned to Melody, an equal mix of bemusement and smugness on his face. ‘Come off it, Melody. We both know you zoomed in to take a snap of the Adonis on the beach. And it’s no coincidence that Adonis is me.’

  ‘Oh, piss off.’ Melody sank back into her seat, taking the pressure off her foot. ‘I was taking a photo of Scoop. You just happened to be there too.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Hugo nodded slowly before turning back to the laptop and clicking through the rest of the photos. ‘Sure. I believe you.’ He sneaked a sideways look at her and she stuck her tongue out at him.

  ‘You really never show these to people?’ he asked once he’d finished. Melody shook her head.

  ‘Only those closest to me,’ Melody said. She reached over to close the laptop, feeling her shoulders relax now her photos were out of sight.

  ‘You’re going to ace the festival,’ Hugo said. ‘There are two prizes, right? You’ll win them both, hands down.’