“Poppet?”
Motts groaned, shifting Cactus away and placing her coffee on the desk in the corner. She tripped over the duvet but finally made it to the door. “Dad?”
“Did something happen in the village?” Her dad had his phone in one hand and the coffee she’d left for him in the other. “Your uncle Tom sent me a text to check on you.”
What’s worse?
Village gossip, family gossip, or a combination of the two?
“Poppet?” her dad prompted as she got completely lost in thought over what was worse.
“Nothing happened.” She dodged by him with Cactus on her heels. “Is Mum up as well?”
“Pineapple Mottley.” He caught up to her in the kitchen. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Motts didn’t really have an answer for him. She didn’t know how to explain the strange encounters she’d had with Noel and Innis. “Will you want a full English breakfast or are the pastries sufficient?”
Her dad simply stared at her until she stopped fussing with the bag from Griffin Brews. “Talk to me.”
She leaned against the counter with a sigh of resignation. “I can’t answer your question. I don’t know what’s happening. Until the police make an arrest, I’m not sure anyone will have answers.”
“Have we complicated your life by coming down again?” He chuckled when she turned away to fuss with Cactus’s breakfast. “We weren’t expecting to be empty nesters.”
“Ever?” Motts didn’t think even in London that she’d have been happy to live with her parents for the rest of her life. She’d wanted to spread her wings a little for years, even if she’d been later than most people. “Are you going to visit every month?”
“You could be less horrified by the concept.” He sipped his coffee, then leaned back to glance down the hallway. “Your mum went into the bedroom. How about we fix up some easy eggs and toast to go with your pastries?”
* * *
She loved her parents.
She genuinely adored them. She did.
By the end of the first day of their visit, Motts had reached the end of her tether. Her dad was brilliant. He didn’t press her for anything but was content to simply spend time together.
Her mum wanted to solve all of her problems—particularly the ones she imagined Motts had. They’d butted heads already over the way the garden had been situated. Her main gripe had been over Motts refusing to introduce to them to Teo.
The next morning, Motts fled the cottage after her mum decided to reorganise the kitchen. It’s not logical, darling. We’ll set it up so you don’t have to stress over where the mugs and tea are.
Deciding not to scream in frustration, Motts grabbed her scooter and rode down to the village in the pouring rain. She parked under the awning in front of Griffin Brews. Vina simply raised her eyebrows when Motts threw herself down onto her favourite chair in the corner and rested her head against the table.
“Rough morning?”
“Mum has gone from critiquing my garden to shuffling around everything in my kitchen cabinets.” Motts turned her head slightly to see Vina, who crouched next to the table. “I’m dripping on the floor.”
“Driving through a spring shower will do that to you. Let me grab a towel. Nish can fix you up with a warm mug of chocolate chai.” Vina patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about your cabinet. We can rearrange everything when they leave. You might even decide to declutter.”
Motts narrowed her eyes on her. “Declutter.”
“It’s not a dirty word.”
“You fell into the organising cult on YouTube, didn’t you?” Motts gratefully accepted the small tea towel Nish tossed at her. She wiped her arms and face off, then tried to dry her hair a little. “I don’t own enough to declutter.”
“Fair enough.” Vina headed off into the kitchen, likely to grab a larger towel.
“Here you go, Motts.” Nish had returned with a mug and set it on the table. “Want a pie, cake, sandwich? Amma whipped up a fresh batch of spiced fruit pies. They’re cooling in the kitchen. She won’t mind my nicking one for you.”
“I could eat.” Motts would never turn down one of Leena’s creations. She worked magic with spice, whether sweet or savoury. “Can I hide here forever?”
“They do know where the café is, Mottsy.” Vina wrapped a large towel around her shoulders. She grabbed the small tea towel and used it to clean up the puddle under the chair. “Want to borrow a spare set of clothes? I’ve got a bag in the office with jeans and a button-up. They should fit you fine—maybe a smidge too big given our height difference.”
“We’re not the same size on any set of measurements. I’ll dry off eventually.” Motts wasn’t overly concerned. “Pie?”
“Mottsy—”
Nish elbowed his sister in the side, cutting her off. “Amma’s calling you.”
“She’s not. I can’t hear her, and my hearing is better than both of yours,” Motts pointed out.
Nish pinched the bridge of his nose while Vina laughed at him. “Are they still wanting to meet Teo?”
Motts had the strangest feeling she’d missed something. It wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last. “Of course they do. I haven’t been out with someone since Vina and I split. They’re not interested in how it was more of a friend thing than a full-on date.”
“Parents,” Nish sympathised. “Oh, a customer. Be back.”
Vina slipped into the chair across from her. “It’s pouring down rain out there.”
“Yes, I’m aware.” Motts squeezed water out of her hair into the towel.
“You can’t ride home until it stops. Why don’t you sneak upstairs with me? We’ve got the apartment all kitted out for late night baking. Have a hot shower. Change into some dry clothes. If you won’t wear mine, I’ll run across the street to pick up something from the charity shop in your size.” Vina pushed the mug of warm tea closer to her. “You’ll catch a cold if you sit in those clothes to dry.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re overwhelmed by your parents and everything else. Have a long, hot shower. If nothing else, it’ll warm you up and stop you from shivering.” Vina got to her feet and came around the table to try to lift Motts up. “Please?”
“Fine.”
They wandered through the kitchen to the narrow stairs leading up to the upstairs apartment. Vina ran the shower and set out a towel for her. She ushered Motts into the bathroom, leaving her with the instruction to take her time.
“I do know how to bathe myself,” Motts grumbled.
“I’ll run over to the shop to grab some clothes for you. Or I’ll drive up to the cottage to grab a spare set of yours so you can’t complain about my spending money unnecessarily.” Vina was gone before Motts could argue.
Well, nothing to do but shower since the water’s already running.
Why is everyone so pushy all of a sudden?
It’s infuriating.
It was late in the afternoon when Motts finally returned home to the cottage. Her mum had definitely been cooking. She could smell sausage and knew her mum had made toad-in-the-hole for dinner.
Food was definitely the way to Motts’s heart after a tension-filled day. She found her parents deep in conversation in the kitchen. They both smiled when she stepped hesitantly closer.
“Toad-in-the-hole?”
“Thought you might enjoy a home-cooked meal.” Her mum gestured to the baking pan cooling on the counter. “Are you ready for a bite? Or is it too early?”
“It’s fine.” Motts hated the stilted conversation. She wished her mum didn’t always take things so personally. It wasn’t an attack if she wanted to keep her cottage different than her childhood home had been. Growing up meant figuring out things on her own. “Thanks, Mum.”
Please let them go home soon.
I might barricade myself in the spare room if they don’t.
Her parents left early the next morning. There had been no heart-to-h
eart conversations. Motts supposed they’d always see her as their little girl, even if it annoyed her to no end.
After spending half the morning returning her mugs to their rightful home, Motts tried to get into the groove of her normal day. She messed up six paper tulips and almost ruined one of her quilling projects. Her mind was clearly telling her to get out of the cottage.
The skies had cleared late in the previous evening. Motts wandered out into the garden with Cactus on his leash. They both enjoyed the breeze coming in off the sea with the bright sun overhead.
Her herb patch was doing well with the rain and sun. She had high hopes it would begin to sprout in the next month or two. New growth in what had been a scene of a tragedy.
It was almost poetic.
“Your garden’s doing well.”
Motts tightened her fingers on the leash. She hadn’t heard anyone walking down the path along her fence. “Yes.”
Noel leaned against the fence casually. “Are you recovered from your accident?”
“My accident?”
“Heard you’d been run over.”
She didn’t know how to respond to his statement. It wasn’t a question. “Not really an accident if someone runs you over, is it?”
The odd encounter became even stranger when he simply walked down the path. Where was he going? He lived (and worked) in the opposite direction. Why did he keep heading down the coastal path by her cottage?
What was down there?
The question ate at her all morning. Motts found curiosity once again driving her to explore where she probably shouldn’t. She locked up the cottage and headed off the path in the direction Noel had gone earlier in the day.
Despite walking for over an hour, Motts never discovered anything of particular interest. She turned around, retracing her steps to avoid being stuck out in the dark on the rocky path. Cactus waited anxiously for her, his little face almost pressed against the glass of the back window.
Meow.
Motts bent down to lift him up when she got inside the cottage. “Did you miss me? I was gone longer than I intended, wasn’t I?”
Deciding to warm up with a mug of tea, Motts got the kettle going. She set a bowl of treats out for Cactus, who acted as though he hadn’t been fed in three weeks. He purred between bites of food.
“At least we have the cottage to ourselves again.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Spring continued to roll through March. Motts, despite her allergies, found herself excited for later in the season and going into summer. She knew from holidays as a child how beautiful Polperro was.
She didn’t have the same enthusiasm for the tourists who would descend on the village. It was the one downside to Cornwall. River and Nish had both told her not to borrow trouble; Vina had laughed at them, knowing how much Motts panicked over things far off in the future.
They’d been over every night since her parents left. At the end of the week, though, River and Nish were taking a brief holiday together. Vina and her new girlfriend had gone off to London for a three-day weekend.
Motts intended to settle in for the weekend. She wanted to finish up her quilled sari project for Leena. A few days focused on it would likely get her where she wanted.
A knock on the door interrupted her in the middle of finishing breakfast. She put her plate in the microwave to keep Cactus from filching from her food. Her heart dropped into her stomach when she opened the door to find Innis preparing to knock a second time.
“I want to talk.”
Motts wondered if he’d planned this conversation around a time when her friends were all away from the village. She gripped the doorknob tightly. It was tempting to slam the door. “Why? You’ve shouted quite a lot at me over the last few weeks. What else could you have to say?”
“I brought a sultana cake from Rose. She thought we might apologise for the rough welcome to the village.” Innis thrust the package at her. “It’s not poisoned.”
Well, I certainly feel reassured.
“Thanks?” Motts took the package and held it gingerly. She planned to throw the cake away the second Innis left. “Is that all you wanted to say?”
“Can I come in?”
“No.” Motts didn’t trust the man enough to be in the cottage alone with him. “Sorry.”
Innis broke into a smile that made him seem less menacing. “I deserve the mistrust. Why don’t we sit on the bench?”
After a second of consideration, Motts found, once again, her curiosity got the better of her. She stepped outside, closing the door behind her. Innis sat on the bench and thankfully didn’t comment when she remained standing close by.
“My sister and I….” Innis trailed off. He breathed in deeply before trying again. “Rhona wanted a lifestyle Polperro and the fish shop couldn’t offer her. She wanted romance, London, and everything young people seem to cling to as a measure of success and happiness.”
“And you disagreed?” Motts prompted when he fell silent.
“I worried.” He bent forward with his elbows on his knees. “Rose says I turned into my da after he passed. Who knows. Rhona never told me about the sale. We didn’t talk. We were stubborn. But I never hurt my sister. I didn’t want her around those boys.”
“Those boys?” Motts found herself drawn into the conversation. “You mean Danny?”
“Him. And his friends. They chased after her. Never trusted them. Even now, why haven’t they picked up Danny?” Innis slapped his hand against his leg in obvious frustration. “And the Watson lad. After Rhona’s disappearance, we eventually cleared out some of her things. Rose donated them to the charity shop.”
Motts nodded, waiting for him to explain the significance.
“A week or two after, I spotted him wearing one of her scarves. He still wears it in the winter.” Innis smacked his leg a second time. “I wanted to rip it off his neck.”
Better than strangling him with it.
“Maybe he liked her.” Motts did honestly find Noel’s behaviour a little strange. “Did he ever date Rhona?”
“Never. I’m not sure she liked him very much, even as a friend.” Innis got to his feet, and Motts took a step back. “I am sorry. You haven’t seen us at our best.”
“Did Rose run me over?” Motts decided to press the question, wanting to see how he’d respond.
“My Rose? Never,” Innis denied vehemently. “She threw the rock, yes, but she’d never want to cause physical harm to someone.”
And strangely enough, Motts believed him. She said goodbye and returned to the cottage. The talk had left her wondering who had been involved in Rhona’s death.
Did she believe Innis wasn’t involved? Maybe. She thought he might be capable of accidentally killing his sister in the middle of an argument.
Had he protested too much?
Heading out into her garden, Motts walked Cactus before returning to the cottage. She resisted the temptation to head down to the village. Noel hadn’t exactly been welcoming the few times she’d met him.
Odd. Angry. But not welcoming.
After wasting over an hour trying to make progress on her quilling masterpiece, Motts gave up the ruse. She dithered between going on her own or finding someone to be nosy with her. She eventually sent a text to Teo.
A good and bad idea.
Brilliant because Motts had missed him over the last few days, particularly when she cracked open a bar of chocolate. Teo turned out to be in Looe visiting his parents; he wondered if she wanted to go out for supper.
She agreed. And immediately regretted her decision. Not going to dinner with Teo; she’d enjoyed spending time with him before. But she wasn’t eagerly anticipating visiting a busy restaurant.
As Motts had already said yes, she didn’t feel comfortable backing out. By the time Teo arrived to pick her up, she’d managed to stress herself out to the point of being sick. He seemed surprised to see her so frazzled.
“What’s wrong?” Teo strode forward to take her h
and gently. “We don’t have to go out.”
“I had a panic attack.” Motts pulled her hand away, twisting her fingers together anxiously. “I kept thinking about crowded restaurants and embarrassing myself.”
“Polperro’s not really known for takeaway.” Teo followed her into the cottage, where she immediately curled up on the sofa with Cactus beside her. “Unless you want fish and chips. Griffin Brews is closed for the weekend. How about I make a quick trip back to Looe, grab a pizza or something greasy and comforting. We can chill here for dinner instead of stressing you out further by going to some restaurant.”
“You don’t mind the drive?”
“I’ve done more driving than the twenty minutes or so it’ll take me to get there and back. I know the perfect place for a takeaway; a friend of mine runs the place.” Teo gave Cactus’s head a pat. “Any specific cravings?”
Motts shook her head. “I hate being a bother.”
“You’re not a bother. My friend’s inquiring questions about who my date is will definitely be more of an annoyance than you could ever be. I’ll even get a little something special for Cactus,” Teo promised.
She watched him leave and forced herself to get up and lock the door. Cactus followed her down the hall. “I think I like him.”
Meow.
“Yes, he’s very considerate to get you a treat. Smart man.” Motts stayed on the couch and waited for his return. She greatly appreciated Teo’s kindness to her. “We’ll have to keep him around.”
Turning on one of her favourite vlogger channels, Motts allowed the stress to slowly bleed away. When Teo returned, her anxiety had dropped significantly. She felt capable of holding a conversation with him.
“He made tapas for us. Croatian-Cornish-inspired tapas.” Teo held up two bags filled with small containers. “I said I was bringing dinner for a date, and this is what he gave me.”
Motts tried not to laugh at how disgruntled he appeared. “They’ll be lovely.”
“I’m going to tell his mother.” Teo had a slightly vicious smile on his face. Motts imagined he appeared the same way when a criminal confessed under interrogation. “She goes to my knitting club.”
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