“Race you,” I shout, leaving her behind.
“Hey, that’s not fair.”
I smirk because she’s right. I’ve tackled this climb thousands of times before. I find myself laughing again, which I don’t do very often. When I reach the top of the hill, I look back to see Jody panting. Her hands are on her knees, and she’s using the wall to hold her up. I shake my head. Her attempt at beating me has had the opposite effect. She’s slowed down to a snail’s pace.
I unlock the storage unit to find today’s deliveries are already inside. Most of the parcels are brown or paper-thin. A pink box balanced on a high shelf catches my eye. That must be the sort of packaging Jody was talking about. I can hear her heavy breathing as she approaches. Holding up the parcel, I shout louder than necessary.
“I’ve got your edible underwear.”
“Please let the ground open up and swallow me whole.”
I hold the bright pink box high in the air above my head as I exit the storage shed. She looks around in panic, but there’s nobody around at this time of the morning. She grabs hold of my arm, trying to retrieve the neon parcel. I can’t help inhaling her sweet summer scent. Her soft touch is sending tingles down my spine; teasing her might’ve been a mistake. My smile drops as my thoughts of staying away from her become clouded. I lower my arm so she can reach what’s hers. She doesn’t step back straight away, nor does she inspect the parcel. I brush a strand of her hair away from her face before turning away. I shouldn’t be affected by her like this. I should stop whatever this is right now, but I find myself locking up the storage case and leaving my parcels behind.
“Come on, I’ll walk you home.” It’s not like she’ll get lost, but I don’t wait for her to answer before I set off down the hill. She steps in line beside me.
“Don’t you have work to do?” She wraps her arms tightly around the box, trying to hide the label.
“I’ll walk you to the café first.”
“You know, you’re not as tough as you want people to think you are.”
I turn my head to face her and she bites her lip. “And you’re not as put together as you want people to believe you are.”
She blows out a deep breath. “Most people think I’m a screw-up. I was hoping, at least for a little while, I could prove them wrong while in Clover Bay. The problem is, being unlucky is embedded in my DNA.”
“You’re not doing so badly. At least you get up in time to open up the café, unlike Kayleigh. Molly doesn’t have to worry about her business while you’re around.”
“I can’t make cookies. Even after six attempts, they’re terrible. It doesn’t matter what I do, I can’t seem to get the recipe right.”
The item in my pocket suddenly feels heavier than it should. It’s my way of helping without spending any time with her.
“I brought you something.” My palms are clammy, so I wipe them down my cargo shorts before reaching into my pocket. I pull out a scrappy old notebook, avoiding eye contact as I pass it to Jody. “It was my mother’s.” A shard of pain fills my chest, just like every time I talk about her.
Jody opens the notebook, smiling when she sees the recipes. “Thank you. This is great.” She nudges me with her elbow. Seeing her smile lessens my feelings of grief about my mum. “Wish me luck. Even with this, I’ll need it.”
Again, it’s on the tip of my tongue to offer my assistance, but I don’t want to get too close. I could easily show her a few simple recipes, but that would mean spending time with her.
The walk down the hill doesn’t seem to take long. Once we’ve reached the café, Jody sets the box on the counter and opens it. The relief on her face is instant when she sees the cake. She removes the cellophane and places it onto the cake stand.
“I can’t believe it’s in one piece.”
“You’ll survive another day, but you know there’s no post to save you tomorrow. Saturday is our busiest tourist day. I’d consider hiding some of those biscuits for Sunday.” The box is packed with baked goods, but it won’t be enough.
“Let’s hope your magic cookbook can help me make something good.” She rubs her hands together. Giving her the notebook isn’t a big deal because I already know the recipes. My mum would’ve wanted it to be put to good use. Seeing the hope in Jody’s eyes was worth the triggered memories of my mum.
After leaving Jody to set up the café, I start my deliveries. I find myself thinking about her more than I’d like. She’s already getting under my skin, and I don’t like it. My day off tomorrow needs to be spent getting back to my roots. Reading and hiding away from the tourists used to be my escape. Now, reading is my way of avoiding the beautiful girl I shouldn’t be trying to please.
Eight
Jody
Monday
A seagull squawks, making me jump away from the windowsill. A flake of white paint sticks to my finger, and I brush it off. I don’t think my grandmother has redecorated the cottage in over thirty years. My temporary bedroom is cosy, but smaller than the one I have at home. It’s covered in floral wallpaper and rustic seaside souvenirs. This used to be my mum’s room, although it doesn’t reflect the person she’s become. Her house now is plain and minimalistic. The room I’m in looks like my grandmother hasn’t changed a thing since Mum left. I even found her calculator and maths book still in the cupboard. As soon as she left school, she was out the door, but I never thought to ask why. Now I wish I had. Looking around this room makes me think she didn’t take much with her, like she couldn’t wait to get out of here. My mum has always been ambitious and encourages me to aim high. She has a successful career in marketing, and like my sister, she’s always had her eye on her goals. Clover Bay offers little in terms of job ambition, unless you want to be an artist or a crafter. Sarah would fit into the village perfectly.
My phone rings, bringing me out of my daze. It’s strange how sometimes the person you’re thinking about is thinking of you too. I guess it’s because we’re good friends. I answer it, switching the settings to video call.
“How’s adulting going?” Sarah asks, instead of saying hello.
“I’ve survived my first week away from home,” I say proudly, taking a seat on the bed. My slippers make a soft thud as they hit the floor.
“Technically, you’ve only been there half a week. You didn’t leave Manchester until Wednesday.”
“Don’t burst my happy bubble. I’m on a high right now. I’ve had no major disasters and I like it here.”
She pouts. “As long as you don’t get any crazy ideas about not returning home when your grandmother’s feeling better, we’re all good.”
“Of course I’ll come home.”
Adam’s face appears in my mind, even though it shouldn’t. He isn’t what I’m looking for, and I doubt I’m his ideal girl. His stormy blue eyes hold a mystery that I’m trying not to be curious about, and on the rare occasion he smiles, he’s absolutely gorgeous. That doesn’t mean I’m interested in starting anything with him though.
“You’d make a beautiful surfer chick with your long flowing hair and a sun-kissed tan. I can imagine you taking jewellery-making classes in the evening and spending your days selling it down by the beach. Promise you won’t drink too much salt water. I don’t want it going to your head.”
“I haven’t seen one surfboard the whole time I’ve been here, so you can stop whatever ridiculous fantasy you’ve dreamed up. This is a traditional fishing village; the closest I’ll get to being a beach bum is paddling and drinking camomile tea. I belong in Manchester with you. I’ll be coming home as soon as my gran is able to manage the café again.”
“Jody. Are you decent yet?” my grandmother shouts from downstairs.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” I shout back to her. Then, in my normal voice, I say, “Sorry, Sarah. I’ve got to go. I’ll send you some pictures soon so you can stop worrying about my overrated adventure.”
I don’t tell her the peaceful atmosphere is one of the things I like about Clover
Bay, or that the lack of ambition is refreshing. Here, I can get up and enjoy my day without having to worry about my sister breathing down my neck. Even working in the café is better than any other job I’ve found back home.
After hanging up the phone, I make my way into the living room. Mondays are the only day the café doesn’t open, so I’m taking full advantage of my free time. I got up late, enjoyed a long bath, and watched a baking show. I crave the simple life, and in Clover Bay, I’m in my element. Tonight, I’m going to make some edible cookies and strawberry smoothies. I have my fingers crossed this is going to be the first batch I’ll be able to sell in the shop.
Adam and my gran are in the hallway. He’s holding a blue money bag and my gran is filling in the paying-in book.
“Jody, I need you to go to the bank for me. Adam will show you the way.”
I don’t mind doing this task for her, but I’m wondering why Adam can’t do it. Maybe it’s so I know where to go for future trips, but I feel there could be more to this story. Neither of them says anything else, so I nod. My gran gives the paying-in book to Adam, and he already has the money. I put on my jacket and shoes and follow him out of the door.
“Does the whole village close for business on Mondays?” I ask as we pass the row of empty shops.
“No. Not everyone has the luxury of having today off. Sunday is the only day I don’t deliver, although my round is usually short today. Most of the tourists are leaving or arriving, so it’s the best time for people to take a break.”
“Clover Bay works on its own rules. I’ve never known a place shut down for anything other than Christmas Day. It feels like Manchester never sleeps.”
“It’s the end of the world.”
“What?”
“That’s how I like to think of Clover Bay. This is our safe haven away from the rest of England. It’s like an island at the edge of civilisation where the rest of the world doesn’t affect us. There are air-raid shelters hidden under the cliffs, so it’s like we are prepared for anything. Once a year, we have a celebration where we don’t use electricity for the day. People cook on the beach using campfires, the streets are lit with lanterns, and boats are scattered with lights in the harbour. The festival of light is one of my favourite events because it reminds me of how independent we are.”
“Wow. I could fall in love with this place. We visited as kids, but I’ve never spent any length of time here. An extended holiday here could be fun.”
“Clover Bay is a magical place, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He smiles like he’s thinking of fond memories and it’s great seeing him like this.
I can see why he likes it here. It’s a nice hideaway from the crazy city life, even if it is too quiet. The last holiday I took was a city break with the girls. I like living in the fast lane and I’ve never craved a slower pace. Now, I can see myself enjoying a relaxing holiday.
By the time we reach the top of the hill, I’m breathing heavily, although the climb is getting easier. Adam walks me to the “Welcome to Clover Bay” sign, and he leans against it.
“This is as far as I go. The bank is about a hundred meters farther down the road.” He points to the busy road. I look in the direction he’s indicating then back to his face. As usual, I can’t read his tight expression.
We are literally on the edge of the village. The school is the last building before the road. It’s like he’s cursed and can’t take a step outside his territory. He holds out the money bag and paying-in book, which I take. So many questions run through my mind, although I’m scared to ask them. We’re starting to get along a little better, and I don’t want him to stop talking to me because I’ve said the wrong thing. I’m still staring at him, and it’s been far too long, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Are you waiting here for me to return, or should I make my way back to the village?”
“I’ll be right here waiting for you.”
I give a small wave goodbye, which immediately makes me feel silly. I turn and quickly walk in the direction of the bank. Kayleigh mentioned he never left the village; I didn’t realise she meant literally. He didn’t take one step outside the border of Clover Bay. I don’t believe in witches and magical energy. He’s not a merman who can’t stray too far from the sea or under a gypsy’s spell. There must be some other explanation.
It doesn’t take me long to drop the cash at the bank, and sure enough, Adam is standing in the same place when I return. He watches me as I draw closer. I flip my hair over my shoulder, feeling self-conscious. When I arrive in front of him, I offer a weak smile and he returns the gesture.
“So, are you going to tell me about your curse?” I say, unable to bite my tongue any longer.
“What curse?” A puzzled look forms on his face.
“Why don’t you leave Clover Bay?”
He rubs his hand over his forehead and into his hair. Instead of answering, he starts walking back down into the village. I shouldn’t have asked. I knew it was the wrong thing to do. I’m mentally kicking myself for having to be so curious. Adam is a mystery I can’t work out, but I should’ve left it alone. I don’t need to know why he’s quiet and secretive, or why he doesn’t like outsiders. The worst thing is, I think he was starting to warm up to me. We were heading towards becoming acquaintances, or dare I say even friends. Now I feel like I’ve blown it. We’re both silent until we reach the café. A thousand words pass through my mind, but I don’t voice any of them. Should I say sorry, or ask him to forget I don’t have a filter? I open the back door, but he makes no effort to follow me inside.
“Thank you for showing me the ropes,” I say, holding up the empty money bag.
“It was my pleasure,” he says.
“Goodbye, Adam.” I put my hand on the wood, ready to shut the door.
“Jody.”
I freeze. “Yeah.”
“My mum died in a car accident. That’s why I don’t leave Clover Bay.”
His words are rushed, and I’m slow to think of an appropriate response. He turns away from me before I can say anything. He walks onto the beach and I watch him until he’s out of sight.
There are no cars in Clover Bay. Is that why he never wants to leave? He’d taken me to the end of the path, not quite to the road.
From the way he left, I’m guessing this isn’t something he wants to talk about, and I should drop it. I’m only here for a short time, and breaking down Adam’s defences isn’t something I plan on doing. I’m not the girl with the comforting words or the ability to do the right thing, even if I want to be.
Nine
Jody
Tuesday
Turning over the sign so it reads “closed” feels good. It’s official; I’ve completed a full week at the café. I didn’t burn the place down, break anything, or poison anyone. I’m proud of myself. I’ve also sold twelve cookies I’d made and had no complaints.
“Congratulations,” Kayleigh says, stuffing the last bit of her cookie into her mouth.
“Thank you. I’ve learnt but not mastered the grand total of one recipe,” I say, and then laugh nervously.
“It’s one successful recipe today. World domination tomorrow.”
“I’ll settle for learning how to make muffins.”
“You’ll be returning home as a domestic goddess, ready for anything. Love, life, and lemon cakes will be yours for the taking.”
I smile. “My sister would be happy if that were true, but a few weeks of this isn’t going to change me that much. I won’t have a job or any idea where to start looking. Plus, my love life will still be non-existent. I’ll be going home in the same condition I arrived in. Only with toned legs from walking around this place and a sweet tooth from eating all the cakes.”
She waves her hands over the teapot, pretending it’s a crystal ball. “Maybe love will be on the horizon for you.”
I follow her eye line, spotting Adam in the street. I haven’t seen him since his confession. I wave from the window bay, hopi
ng it hasn’t become awkward between us. I can’t help my goofy smile when he waves back.
“He told me about his mum.” My face tightens into a frown.
“It’s tragic. She wasn’t that old. You never know when your time will be up; that’s why every day needs to count. You should join us tonight in the pub for whiskey and cards.”
I laugh. Drinking and playing games isn’t my idea of making every minute count, although I’m curious about the nightlife.
“One of us has to open the shop tomorrow. Whiskey and cards sounds like a lethal combination.”
She pouts. This morning she was only thirty minutes late, but I have a feeling that tomorrow will be a different story.
“It’s your loss. I’ll have an extra drink for you.”
She mimes holding a glass and drinking the imaginary liquid down in one swift movement. She salutes me before hanging up her apron and races out the door. I’m still smiling when I lock the door behind her. Kayleigh has easily slipped into the role of a temporary best friend. She would lead me astray if I let her, but she’s also fun and supportive.
I make two cheese sandwiches and go to search for my gran. She’s in the living room, where I find her most days. I pass her a plate and sit on the sofa. Pointless, the quiz show, is playing on the television.
“I have another hospital appointment tomorrow,” my grandma says.
“Kayleigh and I will be fine. Fingers crossed they give you some good news,” I say. I bite into my sandwich.
“Me too. I’m getting restless. It’s been over forty years since I’ve taken time off from the café, except when it’s been closed for our holidays. I can’t enjoy my new found freedom. I feel trapped because I’m scared of falling again.”
My gran’s been spending her hospital days out of the village. It’s easier for her to get around as the landscape isn’t as rocky or uneven. She’s getting bored being stuck in the house all day, and she wants something to do. The curse and blessing of Clover Bay is what is making her want to stay away from the village.
The Heart of Baker’s Bay Page 5