Coming Home to Tuppenny Bridge (Tuppenny Bridge #4)

Chapter 1

‘So, what are your thoughts, Mrs Marshall? Do you have any questions?’

The estate agent’s voice was calm, but her eyes were eager, hopeful. Bethany almost felt obliged to gush about the house she’d just been shown around. The poor woman had, after all, been very thorough with the viewing, pointing out all the features she considered plus points and skipping very deftly over any potential downsides to the property.

Not, Bethany had to admit, that there were many downsides. On paper it had seemed perfect, and even now, having been shown around with such care and diligence, she couldn’t honestly pick faults. It was just…

She sighed inwardly. This woman was so young and had probably convinced herself that Bethany would snap the house up. Maybe she should. After all, she had to live somewhere. She couldn’t keep drifting forever.

Even as the thought crossed her mind, though, she knew she wouldn’t. This house, as beautiful as it was, was going to end up just like all the others she’d viewed over the last couple of years. Dismissed and forgotten about. She wished she knew why.

‘It’s certainly a lovely house,’ she said, not wanting to crush the estate agent just yet. ‘I’d really like to give it some thought before I go any further, though.’

‘Oh, of course.’ The woman—had she said her name was Nancy?—gave her a wide smile which didn’t stop Bethany from noting the disappointment in her eyes. ‘It’s a big decision. Naturally you’ll have to take your time. You have my card?’

‘I do,’ Bethany assured her. ‘Thanks so much for showing me around.’

‘Oh, it was my pleasure.’

Locking the front door behind them, the two women headed down the drive to their respective cars.

‘I’m so sorry I was late for the viewing,’ Bethany said, feeling the need to apologise once more even though she’d already done so once. It was guilt pricking at her. If she’d decided to take the house she wouldn’t have given her lack of punctuality a second thought.

‘Don’t worry about it. Did you say you’d come straight from the airport?’

‘Yes. I just flew in from Fuerteventura,’ she said.

‘Ooh, how lovely. It’s quite warm there in March, isn’t it? Were you just there for a week or?—’

‘A bit longer than that,’ Bethany said hastily. She felt embarrassed to say she’d been there for two whole months. It felt indulgent and selfish somehow. ‘I was initially house hunting over there, but I changed my mind and decided to resume looking back home.’

She’d only actually looked at two properties while she’d been away, quickly realising that she had no more inclination to settle in the Canary Islands than she had in England.

‘I have to say, I’d pick Fuerteventura over here any day,’ Nancy said with a guilty laugh. ‘I shouldn’t say that, should I? Don’t want to talk you out of putting in an offer.’

‘I won’t be going back abroad,’ Bethany reassured her, deftly avoiding any promise of an offer. ‘At least, not house hunting.’

She unlocked the door of her bright blue hatchback and smiled awkwardly. ‘Well, thanks again.’

‘I look forward to hearing from you,’ Nancy said hopefully.

Bethany waved the business card that had been handed to her earlier but didn’t reply with anything other than a brief nod. Thankfully, she slid into the front seat and started the engine.

Driving back to Somerset she thought she really needed to get her act together. Here she was, fifty-four years of age and, to all intents and purposes, homeless. Obviously, it wasn’t as bleak as it sounded. She was hardly short of money and had just come back from a long and luxurious holiday in sunnier climes. Now she was heading to the home of her long-time friend, where she’d been invited to stay until she found somewhere suitable to live.

But therein lay the problem. She really couldn’t keep relying on Helena’s hospitality—although she rather suspected Helena would be glad of her company. She had, after all, lost her husband just over a year ago and was still grieving. Bethany would never have left her at all had Helena’s two grown-up children not decided they should be with her for the difficult first anniversary of their stepfather Ted’s death, and Helena had suggested they, and her grandchildren, might prefer to be alone with her so they could grieve together as a family.

It had seemed easier all round to take the opportunity to get away for a while. She knew she had no right to grieve for Ted, even though she’d once been married to him herself. They’d been divorced for years after all. But even though their marriage had ended she still missed him. There was never any chance they’d lose touch with each other because he’d married Helena, and over time he’d become a good friend in his own right.

Their friendship had, she recalled, been the result of a lot of hard work after the traumatic discovery of Ted and Helena’s affair. She’d thought, for a while, that she’d lost them both, which had made everything so much worse. Eventually she’d realised she needed them in her life and to make that happen she was going to have to get over what they’d done. Helena had been her best friend since they were twelve years old and she couldn’t imagine life without her. After some time, the anger and hurt had subsided and life had settled. She and Ted built a new kind of relationship, and her friendship with Helena survived. She’d always be grateful for that. Without Ted and Helena she’d have had no one.

But with Helena grieving for her husband Bethany felt awkward about expressing her own sense of loss, so had spent the year pretending it hadn’t mattered as she focused on getting Helena through such an awful time. Although she’d felt a pang of sadness that Helena’s children didn’t want her around, she realised it had left her free to go away, switch off her phone, and just be. Somewhere new and different. Somewhere she could work through her sadness alone.

She hoped Helena wouldn’t be cross that she’d made herself unavailable. Maybe she should have stayed in touch these last couple of months. But she had to be honest; it had felt good to be cut off from everything back in England. The only people she’d spoken to were tourists and locals who knew nothing about her or her life at home. She’d quite liked it that way, which was why she’d considered moving to Fuerteventura permanently. Until she’d realised that anywhere she lived she would be expected to reveal little parts of her life, bit by bit. Strangers wouldn’t stay strangers. The past wouldn’t stay buried. Wherever she lived she couldn’t escape her own story. House hunting had quickly lost its appeal.

It was a bit cold, she thought, as she headed towards the village of Churleigh Magna, where Helena had bought a large cottage for herself after finally selling the house she’d shared with Ted. It had also been the house Bethany had shared with him, as it had been in his family for several generations. She had no real attachment to it and didn’t feel any sadness that she’d never see it again. She was glad Helena seemed to be settling in her new home, but then, Helena wasn’t particularly sentimental and never had been.

She put the heating on and turned up the radio, joining in with The B52s as they sang about a Love Shack. She didn’t have the best voice in the world, but she loved that song and since she was alone, she felt no embarrassment about singing at the top of her voice, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. It took her mind off Helena and Ted and house hunting and all the other things that kept nagging away at her. She’d spent two months having as much fun as possible, and she didn’t want to let that feeling slip away.

Churleigh Magna was a pretty Somerset village with stone houses, criss-crossed by a gentle stream. Helena’s new home, Chimneys, was on the edge of the village, set in an acre of land. It had five bedrooms and had been built in the mid nineteenth century, so wasn’t as old as some of the other properties in the neighbourhood.

Bethany had sent her a text message early that morning telling her she’d be home late afternoon, and Helena had replied with a brief, Looking forward to seeing you, which wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as she’d expected, but she supposed there wasn’t really an awful lot more her friend could say in a text. She was sure they’d have a lot to catch up on over dinner.

She’d only just switched off the engine and stepped out of the car when Helena came rushing out of the front door and hurried down the drive to meet her. Bethany slammed her car door shut and locked it, then turned to her friend with a warm smile.

‘I’m back! How have you been?’

She was relieved to see Helena was smiling. They embraced briefly then pulled apart as her friend surveyed her critically.

‘How was it? Did you have a good time? You’ve got a bit of a tan! How was the hotel? What was the food like?’

‘Crikey, Hels, let me get a word in edgeways.’ Bethany laughed and slipped her arm through her friend’s as they headed towards the house.

‘Your luggage?—’

‘Oh, leave it. I’ll collect it later,’ Bethany said. ‘How are you? Did you have a good time with the kids?’

‘I did, thank you. It was lovely to see them.’ Helena closed the front door after them, and they went down the hallway into a welcoming, cosy living room. Bethany sighed with relief and sank into the leather armchair.

‘Glad you’ve got the heating on. It’s so much colder here than it was in Fuerteventura.’

‘What time did you land?’ Helena asked. ‘I’ll put the kettle on. A cup of tea will warm you up nicely.’

‘Actually,’ Bethany admitted, ‘I’ve been back hours. I’ve been viewing a house.’

‘A house?’

Helena had been on her way to the kitchen but paused, eyeing Bethany in surprise. ‘When did you arrange that?’

‘While I was away. I saw it online and thought, why not? It’s on the Somerset/Dorset border so not too far away from you, but far enough so I don’t get on your nerves.’

Helena laughed. ‘You’ll never get on my nerves, Bethany. You know that.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘So, are you interested?’

‘I’m afraid not. Same old story.’

‘Cold feet?’

‘I guess you could call it that.’ Bethany hated the term, but she couldn’t deny it summed up what happened every time she came close to settling down somewhere. ‘Anyway, don’t worry, I’ll find somewhere eventually and then I’ll get out of your hair, I promise.’

‘You know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want to,’ Helena said gently. She bit her lip and Bethany noticed a look of anxiety in her eyes.

‘Is something wrong, Hels? You look worried.’

‘I’ll make that tea,’ her friend said, turning to go, but Bethany had other ideas.

‘Never mind the tea. What’s wrong? Has something happened?’

Helena sighed and sat down in the other armchair. ‘I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to tell you this the minute you got home, but it’s not something I feel I can keep from you either. I wanted to tell you this morning when you finally switched your phone back on, but it’s not really the sort of thing one can say in a text or over the phone.’

‘Okay, now I’m really scared,’ Bethany said. ‘Just tell me. It can’t be as bad as all that, can it?’

Helena leaned forward, her hands clasped in her lap and her eyes troubled. ‘I’m so sorry, Bethany, but I’ve had a message about your brother.’

Bethany’s heart thudded. Of all the things she’d expected to hear, this hadn’t even crossed her mind. ‘Joseph?’

Helena nodded. ‘His friend—a man called Clive—got in touch with me. He was desperately trying to find you. You see, Joseph was ill. Very ill. Clive thought you should know, and that maybe you’d like to see him.’

Bethany swallowed. So many thoughts were rushing through her mind she didn’t know how to begin to process them. Joseph was ill? She couldn’t even imagine it. He was so fit and healthy and strong. Then again, she was remembering a man in his early thirties. He’d be, what, sixty-five, sixty-six now. She could hardly believe it.

But to see him again?

She didn’t know what to feel about that. After all these years, could she really face him? How did she even know he’d want to see her? He’d shown no desire to meet all this time, so would illness change that? Or was this Clive person making assumptions? Did Joseph even know Clive had been in touch?

‘I—I’m really not sure…’ Her voice trailed off as she saw the look in Helena’s eyes. Her pulse quickened and her throat felt dry.

‘I’m afraid it’s too late, Bethany,’ Helena said gently. ‘Clive messaged me a couple of days ago. I’m sorry, but Joseph has passed away.’