The Little Bed & Breakfast by the Sea

by Jennifer Joyce

  ‘Then he shouldn’t be up there singing lovey-dovey songs for all to see.’ Frank thrust his thumb at the corner where the karaoke machine had been sitting. ‘Nope, it’s public knowledge now.’

  ‘Leave the poor man alone,’ Mae said, though she knew her words would fall on deaf ears. With a final wave, she left the pub and headed for her mum’s to pick Hannah up for their afternoon of fun.

  They managed to catch the Punch and Judy show on the promenade, Hannah sitting cross-legged on the sun-warmed ground with an ice cream from the nearby van. Once the show ended, they headed down to the beach, taking off their shoes and socks so they could feel the squishy sand between their toes as they padded along to the shallows. The water was freezing cold and made Mae shriek as the gentle waves lapped over her toes, but the shock soon turned to joy as she and Hannah giggled, holding hands as they waded a little further out. The sloshing water creeping up her calves brought such precious memories and, if she closed her eyes, she could almost feel her grandpa beside her. Could almost imagine heading back to the bed and breakfast and finding her granny baking an apple pie, her hair dusted with flour, the whole house smelling divine.

  What would they think of her now, she wondered, as the water splashed against her calves. Would they be proud of the life she was creating for herself and Hannah? Proud she was reaching for her dreams, running the little bed and breakfast she’d always fantasised about? Or would they be disappointed she’d taken the wrong paths in life, even if she had finally managed to find a place where she was pretty much content? Would it be enough for them, she thought, for her to be content? She thought of Hannah, clinging to her hand so tightly, giggling with every wave that rolled towards them. Did she want her daughter to feel simply content in life? Was it enough? Didn’t she want Hannah to be so happy her heart might burst, for her to grab life and squeeze every last drop from it? And if being content wasn’t enough for Hannah, why was it enough for Mae?

  After their paddle, they headed back to the bed and breakfast, their feet still damp and sandy inside their socks and shoes. Both were smiling, despite the not-very-comfortable shoe situation, and Mae vowed they would do this more often, that she wouldn’t let the boring, everyday stuff get in the way of having fun. Being content wasn’t nearly good enough for either of them.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Hornchurch,’ she called out when she saw her neighbour out on the pavement outside her house. ‘You look lovely. Very sparkly.’

  ‘Thank you, dear.’ Mrs Hornchurch beamed as she smoothed down her cardigan. It was a deep plum colour with tiny flecks of silver glinting in the light. Underneath the cardigan was a black V-neck top, also glittery with silver specks, which she’d teamed with a pair of wide-legged trousers. It was a vast change from her neighbour’s usual attire of pleated skirts, cosy jumpers and fluffy slippers. Mae noticed now that her hair had been curled to create soft waves and she was wearing just a hint of peach gloss on her lips.

  ‘Off anywhere nice?’ Mae asked, and she was sure Mrs Hornchurch’s cheeks took on a tinge of pink.

  ‘I’m going out for dinner.’ Mrs Hornchurch tucked a curl behind her ear. ‘With a friend. They should be picking me up any minute now.’

  ‘Sounds lovely. I hope you have a nice evening.’

  ‘Thank you, dear.’ Mrs Hornchurch looked past Mae, her face lighting up as a car approached. She gave a little wave to the driver as the car pulled up at the kerb.

  ‘Oh my God,’ Mae whispered as Mrs Hornchurch slipped into the passenger seat of the car. Her neighbour blew a glossy kiss through the window as she sailed past, the driver of the car staring fixedly ahead, avoiding Mae’s eye. It didn’t look as though Mrs Hornchurch was simply having dinner with a friend to Mae. It looked as though her neighbour had jumped back into the dating game.

  With Tom Byrne.

  Mae decided on a quick dinner of turkey wraps. She hoped her guests would join her, but Willow declined through her closed bedroom door, claiming she wasn’t very hungry, and Melody wasn’t in the house. Mae hadn’t expected Melody to venture out on her busted ankle, but perhaps she’d felt better and needed a bit of fresh air. She couldn’t have gone far, anyway.

  ‘Mummy…’ Hannah appeared in the kitchen doorway, her eyes wide as she clung to the frame. ‘Chilly’s scratching at the front door.’

  Mae grabbed the cheese grater from a cupboard and unwrapped a block of medium cheddar. ‘Who?’ She cut a slab of cheese off the block and started to grate it.

  ‘Chilly. The cat.’ Hannah peered out into the hallway for a moment before turning back. ‘He wants to come in. He’s hungry.’

  ‘No.’ Mae, still grating, shook her head. ‘He isn’t our cat. We can’t feed him, otherwise he’ll keep coming back.’

  ‘But he loves turkey wraps,’ Hannah said, her confidence at the statement unwavering. ‘They’re his favourite.’

  ‘I thought Frosties were his favourite.’ Mae paused her grating momentarily to raise her eyebrows at her daughter.

  Hannah clapped a hand to her forehead. ‘Mummy! They’re his favourite breakfast. Turkey wraps are his best for dinner.’

  ‘Is that so?’

  Hannah gave a solemn nod. ‘Yup. He’ll eat it all up, I promise. Even the yucky tomatoes.’

  ‘No.’ Mae sighed wearily and shook her head. ‘He isn’t our cat. He can’t have any turkey wraps.’

  ‘But…’ Hannah’s brow creased as she scrabbled around her brain for a more substantial argument. ‘Please, Mummy.’

  ‘No. I’m sorry.’ Grating the last chunk of cheese, she removed the grater and gave the bowl a little jiggle to flatten out the peaked mountain of cheese strands before placing it on the table. Hannah watched her, her eyes growing wider and her bottom lip protruding.

  ‘It’s not fair! Jack’s daddy let him have a puppy for his birthday.’ Hannah thumped her little arms across her chest. ‘And he’s already got a rabbit and three goldfish. If I had a daddy, he’d let me keep Chilly, I know it! You’re just mean.’

  ‘Darling…’ Mae reached for her daughter, but Hannah had already turned and was fleeing along the hallway before Mae had even managed to take a step towards her. She ran as fast as her little legs could take her, racing up the stairs while Mae looked on, torn between chasing her and having a chat, and letting her cool off for a few minutes first. She was still standing in the hallway undecided when she heard scratching at the front door. Decision made, Mae marched to the door and flung it wide, glaring down at the cheeky little bugger who was busy gouging lengths into the doorframe, his paws moving up and down in a steady rhythm.

  ‘You!’ She pointed a finger at the cat, her voice stern. ‘Stop. That. Now!’

  The cat froze, green eyes staring intently up at Mae, paws – and claws – still up against the doorframe. And then it was gone, just like that, zipping off towards the garden wall and leaping up onto it before scuttling along to the gatepost and vaulting across to the opposite post, where it continued to Mrs Hornchurch’s wall. Mae couldn’t help feeling ever so slightly bad that she’d scared the cat, but she couldn’t put up with it chiselling at her doorframe. Or working its way through another box of Frosties. And worse, giving Hannah false hope that they could take it in and welcome it as part of the family.

  Mae sank down on the doorstop, dropping her face in her hands. Life had seemed so much easier only half an hour ago as she and Hannah jumped over waves, but now it was back to the hard slog she’d grown accustomed to. So much for having more fun!

  Hannah was sitting at the table again, a suspicious strand of cheese resting on the corner of her mouth, as Mae stepped back into the kitchen. She moved slowly towards the table, her mind racing to find the right words to explain not only the cat situation, but the lack of a daddy situation too.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mummy,’ Hannah said, and Mae thought she was referring to the cheese she’d whipped. ‘It’s just I love Chilly so much.’

  ‘I know, darling.’ Mae rested
a hand on Hannah’s shoulder and dropped a kiss onto her soft, fruit-scented hair. ‘But Chilly isn’t our cat. He may belong to somebody else. We can’t just claim him. Imagine how upset his owners would be if we took him from them.’

  Hannah thought about it for a moment before nodding. ‘I’d be sad if somebody took my pet.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Mae sat down at the table and passed a tortilla wrap to Hannah. ‘I’m not being mean, sweetheart. It just wouldn’t be fair.’ She took a wrap for herself and spread a thin layer of the cream-cheese mix she’d prepared earlier onto it. ‘And about not having a daddy around…’ She placed the knife on the edge of her wrap and pressed her hands together, prayer-like, resting her chin on her fingers as though she were seeking guidance from a higher power.

  ‘It’s okay, Mummy.’ Hannah shrugged and plopped a handful of cucumber pieces onto her wrap. ‘Daddies are mean as well as nice. Jack’s daddy won’t let him play on the iPad when he’s been naughty.’

  The front door opened then, and Mae half expected the cat to come strolling into the kitchen, throwing himself into a vacant seat before helping himself to a slice of turkey.

  ‘I can walk from here, honestly,’ she heard Melody’s muffled voice say out in the hallway. ‘Thank you for today. It’s been… interesting. Sorry again about your T-shirt.’

  ‘It’s fine, honestly,’ a male voice said. ‘And if you ever need to talk – about anything – you know where I am.’

  Intrigued – and with the scent of more gossip potent – Mae jumped out of her seat and slipped out into the hallway before the mystery guest disappeared.

  ‘Hello!’ she trilled, hating herself immediately for the tone and accompanying wave. She whipped her hand away and tucked it safely behind her back. ‘I was wondering where you’d got to. I see you’ve brought a friend.’ Mae looked at the mystery guest, recognising him as the bloke with the dog from the pub.

  ‘Sorry,’ Melody said. ‘Hugo was helping me home.’

  ‘Carrying her home, to be precise,’ Hugo said. He gave an overdramatic nod of his head. ‘I know what you’re thinking. Gentlemen like me are a dying breed.’

  ‘I bet she wasn’t thinking that at all, you pleb.’ Melody turned to Mae and rolled her eyes. ‘Ignore him. He thinks he’s charming. It’s best to play along. Until his ego starts to reach dangerous proportions.’

  Hugo placed a hand on his chest. ‘I’m wounded.’

  ‘Me too.’ Melody stuck out her foot. ‘I need to sit down.’

  ‘I’ll give you a hand,’ Hugo offered. ‘Where to?’

  Mae indicated the kitchen behind her. ‘We were just about to eat dinner. Why don’t you join us, Hugo? There’s plenty.’

  Yes, there was definitely gossip here to sniff out. These two were into each other, Mae had no doubt about it. First Mrs Hornchurch and Tom Byrne, and now these two lovebirds.

  ‘I wouldn’t want to intrude,’ Hugo said as he helped Melody hobble into the kitchen. ‘Actually, this looks delicious. Scrap what I just said.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be intruding, anyway.’ Mae indicated the seats opposite hers and Hannah’s. ‘Sit. Eat. Enjoy.’

  ‘If you’re really sure…’

  ‘Absolutely.’ Mae sat in her own seat and resumed her cream-cheese spreading before adding turkey slices and salad. She helped Hannah to fold and roll her wrap, slicing it in half to make it easier on her little hands.

  ‘So, how did you two meet?’ she asked as she rolled her own wrap. She noticed Melody’s cheeks start to pinken, but couldn’t resist. When her own love life was non-existent, she had little choice but to live vicariously through others.

  ‘It was up on the cliff,’ Melody said. ‘He was incredibly annoying, but he showed me the harbour so I forgave him.’

  ‘Actually,’ Hugo said, shaking his head. ‘We met outside the fish and chip shop. Melody was admiring my dog. Not that I can blame her. He’s a handsome chap.’ Hugo winked. ‘Just like his owner.’

  Melody gave Mae a pointed look. ‘See what I mean?’

  ‘You have a dog?’ Hannah asked. ‘What’s it called? Is it friendly? Does it play ball? Can I take it for a walk?’

  Hugo smiled across at Hannah, not fazed by her barrage of questions. ‘His name’s Scoop Dog, though he’s just Scoop to his friends. He’s very friendly, but he can get a bit shy sometimes around new people. He loves to play ball. And Frisbee. And he has a little stuffed monkey with squeaky ears.’

  Hannah giggled. ‘Can I take him for a walk?’ She turned to Mae. ‘Mummy, can I take Scoop for a walk?’

  The cat, it seemed, had been taken down from his pedestal. At least for now.

  ‘Scoop is lovely,’ Melody told Hannah. ‘And brave. He was very poorly, but Hugo’s been looking after him, so he’s all better now.’ She turned to Hugo and grinned. ‘He’s quite the hero.’

  ‘Me or the dog?’ Hugo asked and Melody rolled her eyes.

  ‘You know I was talking about you. Stop fishing for more compliments.’

  Mae wasn’t sure if Melody was aware of the chemistry flying between her and Hugo, but Mae certainly picked up on it. She’d assumed she was so out of the game herself that she wouldn’t recognise the signs, but they were there, plain as day. Melody had developed a bit of a thing for her new pal – and the feeling was mutual.

  Surprisingly, Mae felt a tiny pang of jealousy as she watched the pair across the table, teasing and sparring while flashing not-so-subtle smiles at one another. Mae swore at one point she caught Melody biting her bottom lip as she gazed at Hugo biting into his turkey wrap, love hearts practically popping out of her eyes, cartoon-style.

  She could have this, she thought as she reached for a slice of tomato and popped it into her mouth. The fun, the flirting, the companionship. Mrs Hornchurch had lost a husband and best friend rolled into one, the man she’d made a life with, a family with, and if she could be brave and put herself out there again after years of being alone, what the hell was stopping Mae from taking a chance on love again? All she had to do was say yes the next time Alfie asked her out, which he surely would.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Willow

  Willow’s exit from the bed and breakfast wasn’t quite the pre-dawn flit she’d carried out the previous morning, but she still managed to leave the house without bumping into any of the others. She skipped breakfast again, but this time it was because she couldn’t quite face the thought of food. She was hungry as she hadn’t eaten dinner last night, but her stomach was swirling with apprehension due to the importance of the day ahead. Today, the surveyor would be making a visit to the house to assess the damage to the foundations, and Willow was a bag of nerves about the outcome. It was too early for the assessment, but Willow couldn’t help constantly checking her phone, desperate to find a message from Liam.

  Despite her best intentions, Willow had driven back to the B&B in the van after work, so she slipped into the driver’s seat now, checking her phone one last time before shoving it into her handbag and out of temptation’s way. She’d get back on track with the walking once Ethan was back to keep her company during the journey, but for now she took the familiar route from the seafront to the shop in the van, parking in her usual spot beside the shop before heading inside. She had so much to do today; besides worrying about the house foundations and inevitable call, she also had to go out to buy paint for Yasmina’s nursery furniture, send out any orders that had come through online, make a start on a couple of small commissions due next week, and deliver the completed dresser. She hoped Gary was better as she’d really struggle on her own with the workload. Still, she appreciated the work, while she was lucky enough to have it. Once the report came in from the surveyor, it would be time to face the reality of losing her shop.

  Willow had just started on the first commission – a clock made from a vintage china plate, the only remaining piece from a wedding set from the early seventies – when there was a tap at the shop’s door. Pu
tting down her drill and perching her protective goggles on top of her head, Willow made her way out into the shop and was pleased to see Gary standing on the other side of the glass panel in the door.

  ‘Feeling better?’ she asked once she’d swung the door open and stepped aside to allow Gary into the shop.

  ‘Much better. Thank you.’ Gary stepped into the shop and closed the door behind him.

  ‘Good. Hopefully the bug’s completely gone now, but do say if you start to feel unwell again, okay?’

  Gary scratched the back of his neck. ‘I’m sure I’ll be okay from now on. Coffee?’

  ‘That’d be lovely. I’ll be in the workroom.’ Willow hurried back inside, grabbing her phone and checking for any missed calls or messages. She’d only left the phone for thirty seconds or so, but she couldn’t miss Liam’s call.

  Nothing. She placed the phone on the table, within easy reach, and slipped the goggles back down over her eyes. The call hadn’t come by the time she finished the clock, and her phone remained silent as she and Gary trundled a bench upcycled from old pallets out onto the pavement.

  ‘Willow!’

  With the bench in place, she’d been about to head into the shop when she heard her name being called. She turned around and peered down the street, where Melody was ambling slowly towards her, supported on one side by a man with a dog.

  ‘Good morning!’ Melody was out of breath but cheery by the time she reached Willow and the shop.

  ‘Are you supposed to be up and about yet?’ Willow asked, looking down at Melody’s foot. She was still wearing the bandage, though the swelling seemed to have eased.

  ‘Probably not,’ Melody said. ‘But it’s too nice to be cooped up inside and I haven’t walked the whole way. We’re parked just over there.’ Melody pointed in the direction she’d just walked from. ‘I’ve been meaning to pop over to pick up some souvenirs. I’ll be going home soon so Hugo’s helped me over.’

  ‘It’s starting to feel better then?’ Willow indicated Melody’s ankle as they filed into the shop. Hugo fell behind, tying the dog to a drainpipe before joining them.