An Ill Wind in Seabury (Seabury #17)

Chapter 1

GEORGE

G eorge Slatter strode along the seafront, unable to keep a broad grin off his face.

As commutes went, this had to be one of the best in the whole world.

It didn’t matter what time of year it was, the short walk between his little house on Sandpiper Lane to the Post Office at the far end of North Beach was glorious.

Whether it was sunny or showering, windy or still, Seabury was always at its best.

George loved everything about his job as the secluded little town’s postman.

The early morning start suited him down to the ground—so did trundling around the hills and valleys in his van.

George couldn’t think of anything better than being paid to potter from house to cottage to farm every day, enjoying a chat here and delivering parcels there.

‘This is the life!’ he yawned, stretching his hands over his head as he paused just past The Pebble Street Hotel for a long look out over the sea.

He’d been up for hours already to fit in his run to Dunscombe Sands and back. It was a relatively new addition to his morning routine, but he’d had to do something to combat the effects of the excessive amount of glorious cake on offer in Seabury!

George watched a couple of gulls wheeling and calling above the waves as he let the peace of the day wash over him. It was calm out there today. There was very little wind, and the pebbles of North Beach barely made a sound as the waves gentled over them.

George gave a little wiggle of pure joy.

What a life!

‘Calm down, idiot,’ he chuckled, straightening up from his leaning post and performing a funny little hop-step as he turned to head towards the Post Office. Doris would be waiting for him, and he needed to curb his tigger-like tendencies before making his way inside.

George got on brilliantly with Doris. Seabury’s postmistress was kind, and chatty, and funny…

just not first thing in the morning. She tended to be a tad monosyllabic until she’d sipped her way to the bottom of her second cup of tar-like tea.

It was something George had learned to navigate over the years the pair of them had been working together, and he did his best to keep his natural bounciness under wraps until she’d had a chance to wake up properly.

It was usually safe to let his bubbly enthusiasm rise to the surface by the time he returned from his initial out-of-town delivery round, especially if he turned up with a sweet-treat offering from The Sardine!

‘Don’t think about cake!’ he muttered, ignoring the excited grumble from the direction of his stomach.

This was the only problem with all the running—he seemed to be constantly hungry. He’d already had a massive bowl of porridge with banana and berries for breakfast… but it just didn’t hit the same spot as something deliciously sweet and sticky from one of the town’s two cafés.

Still, George was doing his best to abstain… at least for a little while longer. He wanted to give all the running a chance to finish working its magic on his waistline! He wasn’t particularly vain, but he really did love cake… and it had started to show a bit too much for his liking!

‘Morning, sunshine!’ he beamed at Doris as he pushed the Post Office door open with a flourish.

Doris glanced up at him from behind the desk where she was counting cash, and smiled. ‘Someone got out of bed on the right side?—

as usual! What’s got you so cheery, eh?’

‘Just high on life!’ he chuckled.

‘Well, whatever you’re having, I want some of it,’ she said, giving the notes a sharp tap before neatly bundling them together and replacing them in the cash drawer.

‘You’re more than welcome to join me on my morning run,’ said George with an innocent smile, ‘you know that!’

‘Get away with you,’ tutted Doris, rolling her eyes. ‘How far did you get this morning?’

‘Dunscombe Sands again,’ said George, punching in the door code to let himself through to the back room. It always felt like overkill having something like this in Seabury, but he guessed it was better to be safe than sorry.

‘Blimey,’ said Doris, ‘that’s three times this week! I’m exhausted just thinking about it. Make me a cuppa?’

‘I’m on it,’ said George with a little salute.

Just as he turned to head through to the tiny cubby hole they called a kitchen, he saw Doris raise her nose in the air and give a little sniff. He crossed his fingers, but all she did was nod and go back to counting her cash.

Phew—he’d passed the sniff test!

It was another one of Doris’s little foibles.

She had a thing about strong scents. She claimed that anything too stinky turned her stomach.

Luckily, George had never been one for full-on aftershave at work, but with all the running, every morning saw him showering and washing his hair just before leaving the house.

Doris’s reaction was always something to behold if he did go too heavy on the scented shower products. Today, though, he’d stuck with simple citrus gel and sandalwood shampoo, and judging by her little nod of approval, it looked like he was in the clear.

‘Here we go,’ he said two minutes later, as he placed Doris’s favourite mug next to her. ‘Just the way you like it—strong enough to stand the spoon up in!’

‘Cheers,’ she said, raising it and taking a sip. ‘Ooh, you do make one of the best cuppas out there.’

‘Only because I’ve had years of training!’ laughed George.

‘What I want to know is why you’re still single?’ tutted Doris.

George rolled his eyes. This topic of conversation came up at least three times a week!

‘Come on, Doris – you know I’m married to the job!’ he said, his smile suddenly feeling a bit strained.

‘But it’s such a waste,’ she sighed. ‘I mean, a lovely looking chap like you? You’d make someone very happy. I bet you’d spoil them rotten, too!’

‘I like my life just as it is, thanks,’ George shrugged. ‘If the right woman happens to stroll into town and doesn’t mind a postie with zero ambition and a love of small-town life, I’ll be there with bells on!’

Doris shook her head. ‘You always list those things like they’re bad. You’re a hard worker, you have a lovely home, a wonderful bunch of friends and a community that adores you.’

‘Thanks, Doris.’

‘It’s true. Being happy with the life you’ve made for yourself is something to be proud of, not embarrassed about.’

‘Oh, I’m not embarrassed,’ said George, scratching his nose and wishing this particular conversation was over already. ‘But I’m not going to kid myself. My love of a little life doesn’t suit everyone.’

‘How is being happy “little”?’ tutted Doris. ‘Whoever said that to you sounds like an idiot who didn’t deserve you in the first place.’

‘You might be right,’ said George with a shrug. ‘Either way, she’s ancient history. Anyway, I’d better get on with more important things. You know… van to load… parcels to deliver.’

‘Hop to it then, boy,’ said Doris. ‘But just you keep your eyes open for a lovely lady you can wait on hand and foot while you’re at it.’

‘Why bother?’ said George. ‘I’ve got you!’

That brought a grin to Doris’s face, which had to be something of a record, considering she was only three sips into her mug of tea.

‘Yes, you do,’ said Doris. ‘But grumpy-morning-banter is all you’re going to get out of me, George Slatter!’

George closed the back door of his van and gave it a gentle pat.

It was going to be a busy round today! First things first, he needed to stop at the allotments.

He had a parcel for Charlie. Trouble was, Charlie didn’t want Ethel catching wind of it…

and keeping anything secret from Charlie’s wife required a near-military operation!

Hopping in behind the wheel, George got himself comfortable and then headed slowly through the middle of town past the hotel before continuing on towards West Beach.

It was turning into a beautiful day, and there were already a few people out and about.

He waved to Kate, who was strolling along the golden stretch of sand opposite The Sardine.

Stanley, her massive Bernese Mountain Dog, was bounding along the beach in front of her, his fluffy ears flying with every bounce.

George took the hill out of town slowly. The sun was beaming, low and golden, and he dropped his visor to shield his eyes. He wasn’t in any rush… he’d just pull in next to the allotments and then…

‘Oh. Damn!’

A large, black SUV was blocking the front entrance to the allotments. George usually just pulled up next to the gates for the few minutes he was there rather than heading all the way into the little carpark, but right now it looked like both options were out.

Craning his neck to get a better look, George could just make out Charlie standing at the front of the vehicle, his arms crossed, and a grumpy expression creasing his usually kind and smiling face.

Indicating, George mounted the grassy verge and squeezed the van in behind the SUV. As long as nothing large wanted to get past, he should be fine for a few minutes.

He opened the door and clambered out into the long grass, taking tentative steps as he went. The last thing he wanted to do was put his foot down a concealed rabbit hole and twist his ankle. That wouldn’t do his running any good at all!

‘Morning, George,’ said Charlie. ‘What a to do, eh?’

‘Got an early visitor?’ said George, reaching the safety of the front of the van and coming to stand by his friend.

‘No visitor of mine!’ huffed Charlie. ‘Blooming idiot. I saw her go past the gates a few times, driving too fast. Then, the next thing I know, she’s pulled in, parked up, and wandered off!

I was just putting my kettle on, otherwise I’d have been out here to tell her to hop it! She’s completely blocked the carpark!’

‘You could always call Bill up at Hillside Farm?’ said George. ‘I bet he’d be more than happy to drag it out of the way with his tractor.’

‘Aye, bet he would,’ said Charlie with a wry smile. ‘He’s done it before when tourists have blocked the lanes in the summer months. I’m not so sure about this one, though.’

‘Why not?’ said George.

‘Looks like an expensive car, doesn’t it?’ said Charlie, cocking his head and glowering at the SUV.

George nodded. The thing was probably worth more than his house.

‘Well,’ said Charlie, ‘expensive cars tend to be owned by people who also have expensive lawyers.’

‘I see your point,’ laughed George. ‘Still, it’s a nuisance for you.’

‘I’ll give her till lunchtime, and if she’s not back by then, I’ll have to see about it. It’s still early… maybe she won’t be too long.’

‘I’d better get your parcel out of the van before someone needs to get by!’ said George, heading around the back with Charlie hot on his heels.

‘You’re a hero—thanks for bringing it up here instead of delivering it to the cottage,’ said Charlie, taking the lumpy parcel as gently as if it were a newborn baby.

‘It’s spring bulbs. I want to get them in the ground without Ethel noticing.

I got all her favourites, and I want them to be a surprise for her when they come up. ’

‘You old romantic,’ said George.

‘Happy wife, happy life!’ said Charlie, beaming. ‘You know, it’s a right shame you can’t park up and stop in for a cuppa. I’ve got a bit of news.’

‘Oh?’ said George, shutting the van again and glancing up the road.

It was still clear… for now.

‘Yes,’ said Charlie with a look of excitement. ‘Long story short—Ewan Pepper told Ethel that his brother Rory has got engaged!’

‘That’s lovely news,’ said George. ‘He’s the airline pilot, right?’

‘That’s right,’ Charlie nodded. ‘The one we still don’t see much of. I think he’s only been here once since the boys moved back into Seabury House. Bit of a flying visit, if you’ll excuse the pun!’

‘Well, good for him,’ said George.

‘Who’d have thought it, eh?’ said Charlie. ‘That’s all four Pepper brothers paired off in the space of a year. You’ll be next, George my boy, you mark my words!’

‘Is Rory’s fiancé local?’ said George, deciding to ignore that last little comment. Ah, the joys of being a single man of a certain age in this small town… everyone was convinced he needed their matchmaking services!

‘I don’t know,’ said Charlie with a shrug. ‘That’s all the info I’ve got so far. I’ll have to fish for some more details. But if you hear anything juicy, you’ll let me know, won’t you? I’d love to beat Ethel to it for a change.’

‘Of course,’ laughed George. He wasn’t one for gossip, but happy news like this wasn’t a bad thing to share.

‘Bus!’ said Charlie suddenly.

‘Huh?’

‘The Dunscombe bus. It’s heading straight for us.’

‘Uh oh!’ said George, turning to glance up the hill. Sure enough, the old bus was trundling in their direction, and he could just make out Ben’s smiling face behind the wheel. ‘I’d better love you and leave you and get out of the way. I don’t think he’ll be able to get past me, otherwise!’

Charlie nodded, and George let himself into the passenger side of the van so that he could scoot clumsily across the handbrake and into the driver’s seat. It wasn’t ideal, but better than risking twisting an ankle in his haste to get out of the way.

With a quick wave to Charlie, George carefully pulled out and popped the van into reverse, aiming for a field gateway a little further back down the hill. Holding his breath, George squeezed as close to the gate as he dared, and Ben inched the bus past with a grateful nod and a wave.

‘Phew… that was close!’