Chapter 2 #2
Peering out of one of the windows, Carrie’s heart lifted as she saw the sea. What was it about being here that made her feel so much more at ease?
“Mummy, Mummy! Come and see!” Poppy called and Carrie followed her daughter’s voice to the smaller of the two bedrooms.
“I love it!” said Poppy. She was sitting on a pretty antique single bed positioned underneath the window.
The bed’s frame was iron and painted white.
Poppy had a large book open in front of her.
Wallpaper peppered with little blue flowers covered the walls and light blue curtains hung at the window which looked out over the garden at the rear.
The oak floorboards were partially covered by a cheery rug and a sweet armchair was positioned beside a bookcase.
Carrie went over to investigate. It was full to the brim with children’s books, everything from Harry Potter to Enid Blyton and Paddington Bear stories.
Carrie itched to settle down in the chair and begin working her way through them, especially when she spotted Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfeild on the bottom shelf; she’d been obsessed with that story for at least a year when she was about nine.
She sat down on the bed next to Poppy. “What have you got there?” she asked, indicating the book her daughter was looking at.
Poppy showed her the cover.
“The Twelve Dancing Princesses,” Carrie read. “I believe this is the same edition I used to read when I stayed here.”
“Did you sleep in this bed?” asked Poppy.
“I think so. But when I used to stay here, there were two little beds that looked like this in here and Granny used to sleep in the other one. Aunt Mary and my Uncle Tom, who passed away before you were born, slept in the other bedroom. I do reckon it’s got a new mattress though.
I remember the one I slept on was rather thin and lumpy,” said Carrie.
“This one’s lovely. You’re going to be so comfy, you’re not going to want to get up in the morning.
” She gave Poppy a hug, happy to be here with her, sharing memories and making new ones.
“I’m definitely going to want to get up in the morning because we get to be in charge of a bookshop and go to the beach!” said Poppy, making her mother laugh. “How come your Auntie Mary doesn’t live here any more?”
“Auntie Mary and Uncle Tom bought a house just on the outskirts of the town because Uncle Tom wasn’t very well and he couldn’t manage the stairs to the flat any more.
She decided to stay there because she loves the big garden and so she could rent out this flat.
I’m sure we’ll visit the house when Auntie Mary gets back and before we return to London.
But now, let’s go and get the rest of our stuff in from the car and then we can get unpacked and decide what we want to get for dinner. ”
“OK, Mummy,” said Poppy, getting off the bed.
They went back outside, finished emptying the car and lugged everything up the stairs.
Putting their suitcases in their bedrooms, Carrie took a moment to take in her room.
She couldn’t remember it from when she was small as she’d never had reason to go in what had then been her aunt and uncle’s room.
Her bed was a larger version of Poppy’s and she was delighted to have a gorgeous sea-view from both the windows.
The little fireplace with its painted tiles was charming.
And, of course, there was a bookcase. She scanned it briefly and smiled: it seemed to contain so many of her favourite books from when she was younger — Jane Eyre, What Katy Did and the Little House books .
. . How on earth had Auntie Mary found the time to curate a collection for her before she went away?
“Your room’s really pretty too,” said Poppy, coming in.
“It is,” Carrie agreed. She checked her watch. “It’s almost six, are you hungry?”
“Starving,” declared Poppy.
“Thank goodness, so am I,” Carrie said, laughing. “How about we get fish and chips and eat them on the beach?”
“Yes, please!”
“Excellent. Get your shoes back on. We’ll pop to the supermarket after we’ve eaten to get some things in for breakfast tomorrow.”
Carrie went down to the kitchen and noticed an envelope addressed to her on the counter by the Nespresso machine. She opened it and smiled at her aunt’s familiar spidery handwriting.
Dear Carrie and Poppy, I hope you have a wonderful stay. So looking forward to seeing you when I get back. The kitchen is stocked for you. Love, Auntie Mary.
Carrie shook her head fondly at her aunt’s generosity and opened the fridge.
It was indeed full of food for them, including two bottles of prosecco chilling for Carrie.
The goodies in the freezer included meat and fish and some sourdough pizzas — and when she checked the cupboards, she found bread, potatoes and other basics like tea and coffee pods for the machine.
There really was plenty for them to eat and drink.
She’d promised Poppy they’d go out though and Carrie was tired from the drive so cooking, albeit popping pizzas in the oven, could wait for another day.
They headed out the front of the bookshop so that Poppy could see it properly for the first time.
The building’s red brick glowed in the early evening light, highlighting the wisteria growing up one side and its grey slate roof.
The bay windows on each side of the blue door, held book displays; one had a seaside setting full of beach reads with bold, bright colours, and the other advertised a huge variety of romantasy books.
The large signage proudly announced, The Happily Ever After Bookshop.
As well as the name change, it seemed smarter than Carrie remembered from her childhood, while retaining its charm.
On one side of the shop was a sweet looking coffee place called The First Sip, which her mum had recommended.
The last time Carrie had visited, it had been an art gallery.
The old bookbinders was still on the other side of the bookshop.
It looked exactly the same, or maybe a teeny bit shabbier.
Mr Williams who ran it must be well into his seventies by now, Carrie realised.
“I think it’s the most loveliest bookshop in the world,” declared Poppy, as they stood looking at it.
“I agree,” said Carrie, putting her arm around her daughter. “Shall we go and get those fish and chips then?”
They walked down towards the beach and Poppy spotted the castle on the hill in the town’s park again.
“Is that really a castle?” she asked, screwing up her nose.
“Yep. There are lots of castles in Cornwall,” Carrie said.
“That doesn’t look much like a castle...” Poppy squinted.
“Well, it’s the ruins of one.” Poppy was not looking convinced. “We’ll go to explore it one day,” Carrie promised.
“It smells really good here,” said Poppy, giving an exaggerated sniff.
“I love the smell of the sea,” Carrie replied. “There’s the fish and chip shop, on that corner. This is the one my uncle always used to take me to.”
The chip shop was busy with a queue going out of the door, but the two women working there were clearly veterans and served so quickly and efficiently that Carrie and Poppy soon had their order of chicken nuggets and chips and an orange juice for Poppy, and cod and chips and a coke for Carrie.
They carried their goodies down to the beach and settled down on a large rock to enjoy their feast. They both sat cross-legged with their food parcels in their laps and watched the waves as they ate. The clouds from earlier in the day had largely cleared and sunlight glinted off the water.
There were quite a few people on the beach taking an early evening stroll, several of them with dogs which Poppy loved pointing out.
“Look at that little one,” she said. “He’s so cute.”
Carrie turned her attention to where her daughter was indicating and saw possibly the ugliest dog she’d ever seen.
It appeared to be a cross between a chihuahua, a pug and possibly a gerbil.
It was tiny and as it got closer, she could see it had a tooth sticking out of its mouth at an angle.
Poor little thing, it really did look a state, but its tail was wagging and it seemed happy as it careered around, barking at the waves when they got too close.
Her eyes travelled to the man walking behind.
Presumably the dog’s owner. There seemed to be something familiar about him .
. . He was tall, and walked stooped over a little, as if embarrassed by his height.
His hair was dark brown, almost black, and looked like it needed a cut.
It seemed to be annoying him judging by the way he kept brushing it away from his face.
He turned his head and Carrie got a proper look.
He wore wire-framed glasses and had dark eyes.
His face was long and with perfectly sculpted cheekbones.
He had a whole Benedict Cumberbatch vibe going on, she realised.
The shorts and T-shirt he wore were wrong somehow; he definitely seemed more a thick jumper and jeans kind of person. Did she know him from somewhere?
The man’s phone rang and he stopped to answer it.
His little dog continued sniffing around, moving closer to Carrie and Poppy.
His nose went up in the air as he clearly caught a whiff of their food and he came over, his tail wagging even faster than before.
He put his front paws on the rock they sat on and gazed up at them beseechingly.
He really was very cute despite not being at all handsome.
Poppy reached down to pet him.
“Pumpkin, you know you shouldn’t touch a dog until you’ve checked if they’re friendly or not,” Carrie said. She glanced over at the owner to see if she could catch his attention, but he was completely absorbed in his telephone call.
“Mummy, he’s so friendly.” Poppy laughed delightedly. “Look at him!”
Carrie had to agree that the dog currently gently licking her daughter’s fingers was unlikely to be a threat.
“OK, but don’t feed him anything. His owner might not want us to.”
“It’s too late anyway, Mummy, I’ve eaten everything,” Poppy said with a laugh.
The man finished his phone call. He put his phone in his shorts’ pocket and stood still for a moment.
Carrie saw him let out a sigh and his shoulders slumped.
Seemingly remembering his dog, he turned around.
He spotted it with Poppy and held up his hand by means of apology, Carrie supposed.
He gave a whistle, and the dog gave Poppy a last loving glance before he raced back to his owner who rewarded him with a treat produced from his pocket.
Man and dog turned to walk back the way they’d come and were soon out of sight.
Carrie and Poppy collected up all their rubbish and walked up the beach to the bin before heading back to the bookshop. Carrie held Poppy’s hand and helped her back up the hill, laughing at how much her own calves were burning.
Carrie ran Poppy a bubble bath when they were back in their flat.
Aunt Mary had even left nice toiletries for them.
How on earth had she had the time to do all this?
Not that she was complaining of course. Once Poppy was all clean, her daughter got into bed with a copy of Enid Blyton’s The Enchanted Wood which Poppy had found on the bookshelves in her room.
They were soon lost in adventures with Moonface, Silky, and the Saucepan Man.
Carrie reading aloud until her daughter was very nearly asleep.
“Thank you so much for bringing me here, Mummy,” Poppy said. “I love it.”
“It was my pleasure, Pumpkin.” Carrie gave her a goodnight kiss on her forehead.
Carrie went down to the kitchen and put the kettle on for a cup of tea but spotted the prosecco in the fridge when she opened it to retrieve the milk.
Why not? She found champagne flutes in the cupboard — only her aunt would put champagne flutes in a rental property.
She poured herself a glass and took a sip: it was deliciously cold and crisp.
She walked over to the huge bookshelf. She wanted a comfort read.
She smiled as she spotted Pride and Prejudice and remembered first reading it in this very room almost twenty years ago.
That summer she’d been swept away in Elizabeth and Darcy’s love, set on finding the same for herself.
.. Look how that had turned out! But she wouldn’t let that spoil the story she determined, and she settled down on the sofa under a blanket which was handily folded up on its arm.
She looked out of the window every now and again as she lost herself in Austen, watching the sky change from day to night until she finally admitted defeat and dragged her tired self upstairs.
She brushed her teeth and got ready for bed before climbing under the duvet. She was asleep within minutes.