Chapter 4
Chapter Four
The gentle tinkle of the bell above the door in Marcie’s Gifts & Cafe made Lily think of the ice cream shop. The reminder of home couldn’t have come at a better time – it calmed her nerves as she looked around.
A selection of greetings cards and bespoke gifts were neatly displayed at one end of the room, while the other end hosted a tiny cafe with five small bistro tables. The scent of coffee filled the room, and the small glass-fronted counter displayed cakes and a tray of scones.
The place was empty, and a tall, broad lady with short blonde hair looked up from clearing a table to smile at Lily.
“Feel free to browse.” Her strong Cornish accent was full of welcoming cheer. “If you need any help, just let me know.”
“Thank you.” Lily glanced at the muted tones around the room, then took a few steps towards the woman. “Are you the owner?” she asked. “Marcie?”
“That’s me.” She was probably around sixty and wore a knee-length denim skirt with a white blouse.
“I wanted to ask you something,” Lily said, making her pause from clearing up the cups. “It might sound a little strange.”
“I hear a lot of funny things around here, so I’ll be surprised if you can shock me, but go ahead.”
Lily took a breath. “I wonder if you know someone called Clara Cotton?”
Marcie’s eyebrows rose a fraction, and she wiped her hands on her skirt before picking up three mugs with such force that Lily winced as they clattered together.
“Wait there a second,” Marcie said, not looking at Lily as she strode through an alcove into the kitchen at the back.
Shifting for a better view, Lily watched her set the mugs down and clutch the counter. With her head bowed, Lily couldn’t see her expression but caught the exaggerated rise and fall of her shoulders that indicated she was breathing heavily.
Lily snapped her gaze away when Marcie swung around and walked back out.
“Who did you say you’re looking for?” she said, all warmth gone from her tone.
“Clara Cotton.”
“I thought that’s what you said.” She set her hands on her wide hips. “Who are you? How do you know Clara?”
Given her hostile tone, Lily wasn’t sure she was ready to answer the first question, so she focused on the second. “I don’t know her. My parents knew her a long time ago.”
The woman cocked her head, suspicion and curiosity written all over her features.
“Does she still live in the area?” Lily asked desperately.
“No.” She shook her head. “Clara never lived in Malporth. Made quite a name for herself around here, though.”
“Right,” Lily said vaguely. “Do you know where she lives?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t tell you. I know she was in hospital for a while, then a rehab clinic while she recovered. An asylum would probably have been a better place for her. She went crazy – anyone around here will tell you that.”
Lily’s heart sank. “When was the last time you saw her?”
“I don’t know,” Marcie said tightly. “Twenty years ago, at a guess.”
“But she was buying cards here.” Frantically, Lily dug around in her bag to retrieve one. She thrust it at the woman, showing her the stamp on the back. “Look! This is from here, isn’t it?”
Cautiously, she took the card, looked at the logo of the shop, then turned it over before opening it up to read the inscription. Eventually, she handed it back.
“That’s one of mine,” she said tersely.
“Clara must have been here then?” Lily said. “She sends one every year, and they’re all from your shop.”
“Must be from the online shop.” She fingered the pendant that rested at the base of her throat. “There’s no way Clara Cotton has been in this shop without me noticing. The entire village would be ablaze with chatter if she came back here. It’s not something that would go unnoticed.”
“Why?” Lily asked.
“Because she’s trouble.” Her eyes flashed with anger. “Who are you anyway?”
“My name’s Lily,” she said. “I’m staying in Malporth for a week. I thought I’d see if I could track Clara down while I was in the area.”
Marcie nodded slowly. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”
Since it seemed she wasn’t going to say any more, Lily thanked her for her time and headed for the door. She’d just stepped outside when Marcie’s voice made her pause.
“Clara Cotton wasn’t well liked around here,” she said, a note of warning in her voice. “If I were you, I’d be careful who you speak to about her. You’re unlikely to make friends throwing her name around.”
Slowly, Lily turned. Marcie’s tone and her demeanour put Lily on edge. But she’d known all along that asking questions in Malporth might ruffle feathers. In fact, she’d been banking on it.
She looked Marcie dead in the eyes, her icy stare sending her own warning. “I didn’t come here to make friends.”