Copper Cliffs (Puffin Bay #7)

1. Romy

ONE

Romy

“ M ummy, we’ve got a new head teacher.”

A little hand pushed its way into mine, a little hand that was very sticky. I took hold of it anyway, knowing only too well how precious each day was. Life could be too short; I’d learned that in a way I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I’d also learned to take every moment as if it was plated with gold.

“What’s their name?” This was probably something I would’ve known if I’d read the bulletins the school liked to send out at least fortnightly, so well-behaved parents could discuss what was happening with their children.

Those bulletins didn’t promote discussion around our kitchen table, just a hell of a lot of mum-guilt and an extra glass of wine to numb it. Heidi liked school. She was learning a lot – I knew exactly how much because she talked so much about it. If there wasn’t a problem I wasn’t going to go looking for one, and I trusted the teachers there. It was different to where I’d been brought up, in the middle of a city with terraced houses that made the streets feel like a maze from a Pac Man game. Like where I grew up, in Puffin Bay we all knew each other and were in and out of each other’s business whether it was wanted or not. But instead of the terraced house and concrete blocks filled with flats, we had the sea here and the sand dunes, marram grass blowing in the summer breeze and scent of brine. Here was home, where I’d found the better part of me, as well as losing one of the best parts of my life.

“He’s called Mr Caddick.” Heidi swung her little school bag in her other hand. “He did story time.”

My daughter’s favourite part of her day was story time. It was her favourite reason to go to school every day, and the reason why there was a line of teddies and dolls in her bedroom waiting for her to read stories to them. Or make up stories because at five years old, Heidi was just about recognising enough words to read her starter books fluently.

Her favourite story to tell was about a man called Joel who had been a hero, saving a boy from drowning. The story had a variety of endings; some days he returned from the sea that day, and other days he became an angel for a girl named Heidi.

Which he was, or at least we liked to believe he was. She had no memories of the father who’d adored her, just the ones I’d given to her so she knew she’d been loved by him and that he had been the hero she thought he was.

“Mr Caddick. Is he nice?”

She nodded, her expression serious. “Very nice. Mummy, can Mia come for tea?”

“When do you want her to come for tea?” I braced myself for the answer, knowing that most five-year-olds didn’t do delayed gratification.

“Can she come today? Mia’s mummy didn’t come to pick her up, so Mia walked home alone.”

I squeezed Heidi’s hand a little tighter. Mia’s mum, Cara, had gone to school with Joel so I’d kind of known her for a few years, since I’d moved to the island. She was nice and friendly, but since she’d had Mia, she’d struggled with depression, or at least that was my diagnosis. Two years after having Mia, she’d started a relationship with a man from Manchester, and that had coincided with some of her behaviours becoming even more erratic, like forgetting to pick Mia up from school, which was a weekly thing, if not more often. Mia’s dad wasn’t around, he’d stopped for a bit before getting bored with sleepy Puffin Bay, so he’d left Cara on her own, which she had seemed resigned with. I’d asked her if she wanted to meet for coffee and cake a few times, or if she wanted to meet for a glass of wine at the Puffin Inn while the girls played on the climbing frames and swings in the beer garden. Sometimes she’d made an excuse, other times she’d cancelled at the last minute. I was at the point where I’d stopped asking, aware I was making her feel awkward because she really didn’t want to hang out.

Now I felt bad for not asking any more.

“Why don’t we go to Mia’s now and ask? Maybe Mia can have a sleepover with us too. What do you think?” It was a Friday, and swimming lessons tomorrow were cancelled so there was no alarm set, which meant I could take both the girls to the beach for the morning and for lunch at Amelie’s cakery. I had a feeling that Mia wasn’t getting much in the way of excitement at the moment.

Heidi jumped up and down with excitement, almost tripping over her feet. She’d inherited her father’s good nature and none of my anxieties, which was a blessing I often counted.

“Can we go to Puff Puff Inn for tea?”

That was a curve ball. I’d taken Heidi for dinner at the local inn several times, usually on a Friday when I had no will to cook anything, let alone anything nutritious. Amelie did a children’s menu with a portion of fish, chips and mushy peas that was probably one of Heidi’s favourite ever meals and she just loved being in the inn with its mix of old shipping relics and photos from the Bay from years before, including the one of her dad. Joel was smiling in the photo, just like I remembered him. His broad, mischievous smile that could turn dirty in a nano-second was on display, his light stubble visible – all the better for kissing you with – and his thick biceps in all their glory.

He'd always taken my breath away and my heart still hurt that he wasn’t around to see his baby grow up with me.

“You want to go to Puffin Inn?” I double checked because her favourite Friday when it was nice weather was to eat our fish and chips on the beach.

Why she called it Puff-Puff, I had no idea, but it was better than telling her new head teacher that she was going to the pub, so I didn’t correct her.

Plus it was cute.

“Please. I want to see Amelie’s dog.”

We’d diverted towards Mia’s, Heidi chattering away about who didn’t get their golden time at school, and what she’d played at lunch break. I half listened, more focused on the bit of work I had to do this weekend on a presentation to the board next week. I was a finance manager for a company that was currently expanding, which meant my workload was expanding also. The good thing was that salary had expanded too, along with my prospects of promotion. I worked from home, with a rare meeting at the head office in Liverpool, and with friends in Puffin Bay looking after Heidi after school, it was a pretty good set up.

I had good friends, an amazing little girl, and a job I enjoyed and took satisfaction from. Aside from the dull ache from the wound that Joel’s death had left, my life was full of contentment. I had a good life. I was making a good life for mine and Joel’s little girl, which I tried to take pride in, only I felt guilt at the moment too. Cara was a single parent like me. She did some casual cleaning work here and there, but was often bogged down with drama from her family, heading over to Bangor while Mia stayed with me or one of her other friends from school.

Heidi led me up the little side path towards Mia’s house, planning what we’d do tomorrow, which included enough activities to fill an entire summer break.

“What do you want to do, Mummy?”

The answer to that was read a book on the beach while enjoying a glass of something fizzy, preferably served by a hot waiter giving off I-can-get-you-where-you-need-to-go vibes, but some truths didn’t need to be shared.

I didn’t get to give her a sensible, realistic answer, because I saw Mia sitting on her doorstep, her head down on her knees and her shoulders shaking with sobs.

“Heidi, what exactly did Mia say about her mum?” I slowed our walk down, anxious to get to Mia, but keen to get as much information as I could.

Heidi was quiet, something that was really unusual for her at the best of times.

“Neither of you are in any trouble. I know Mia might have told you a secret, and you should always try to keep secrets, but there are some secrets you need to tell me if we can help someone else.” We’d have another chat about this later.

Heidi looked at me with big, wide eyes that were just like her father’s. “She said her mum was having a holiday so she’d be sleeping on her own, but I couldn’t tell anyone because her mum said.”

My heart was racing far too fast. I drilled up the parenting manual I’d once read in my head and found zero on this situation. We were winging it. “Thank you for telling me. Let’s see if Mia wants to have tea with us at the Puffin Inn, and she can stay for a sleepover.” We were almost at Mia’s house. “Mia! Mia, sweetie, Heidi said you might want to have tea with us, bach ?”

Mia shook her head, still keeping it down on her knees.

I sat down next to her and put my arm around her shoulder. “It’s okay, Mia. I told Heidi that there were some secrets that she could tell me because then I can help, so I know your mum’s gone for a break. How about I send her a message and let her know you’re staying with us?”

Mia nodded, still not looking at me. I smiled at my daughter, who looked worried. “Heidi, why don’t you tell Mia all the things you have planned to do tomorrow?”

That opened the floodgates. Sandcastles, rock pools, a boat trip, Amelie’s cakery, baking a cake, making a den, going to the library – a dozen more ideas spilled out, all with the same enthusiasm, and which was enough to have Mia lift her head and smile at Heidi.

“So do you want fish and chips with us?” Heidi finally stopped for breath. “You can even have tomato sauce.”

Mia’s sad eyes landed on me.

“Would you like to come with us, Mia? I’m sure your mum won’t mind.”

Mia nodded rapidly.

“Do you want to get changed first? Shall we go in and get you some clothes for tomorrow?”

There were more tears. “There’s no key. Mummy said she’d leave the key under the mat, but it isn’t there.” Her words were almost lisped.

Shit. We really did have an abandoned child. I knew Cara’s aunt sometimes helped out, but I didn’t have her contact details. “Did your mum take a bag with her?”

Mia nodded, still not looking at me.

“Okay. How about we go to mine and Heidi’s house, and you can share Heidi’s clothes for today and tomorrow? I can put your uniform in the wash with Heidi’s too and then it’ll be one less job for your mum. That sound okay?”

Mia nodded again, not saying anything, but she did stand up and take hold of the hand I offered her, the three of us ending up walking along the coastal path, holding hands and skipping, pretending that everything was normal.

We headed straight to my house, the little fisherman’s cottage that Joel had bought before he’d turned twenty. It had low ceilings and thick walls, built to keep out the worst of the winter storms. The plaster was the old sort, uneven and chunky in places, the windows small with big windowsills, big enough for a small girl to sit on and stare out at the pebbled shoreline.

There were four bedrooms, the largest one mine, the middle sized one belonging to Heidi, another that had been used for storage, and the smallest my office, although it wasn’t much more than my office, so I probably shouldn’t call it a bedroom. I had wondered recently whether we should move to one of the new builds, where we’d have a bigger garden and a building that was easier to upkeep, but I didn’t have the heart to move away from Joel’s house. Not yet.

I wasn’t ready for that yet.

Mia had squashed in with Heidi on the windowsill and the two of them were looking through colouring books, trying to choose which they wanted to do.

They were firm friends, Heidi the more outgoing of the two. Mia was quiet, shy, maybe worryingly so, but when she spoke my daughter tended to listen and I had a feeling that Mia stopped Heidi from getting into trouble on the occasions when her creative ideas were unwise.

They’d both changed and the washer was on, the uniforms would be fresh for Monday so Cara wouldn’t have to worry about that, if indeed she was worried by that, and they were now wearing Heidi’s clothes, that fit Mia just fine. Mia was smiling now, even laughing at something silly that Heidi had said, and she didn’t look as pale.

I was pretty sure that the colour I’d lost when I saw her sitting on her doorstep hadn’t returned to my face. I didn’t understand what’d happened. I couldn’t imagine letting Heidi come home to an empty house, expecting a key to be under the mat. She was five years old. Just a bit more than a baby, and while Puffin Bay was as safe a place to grow up as anywhere, I wouldn’t even let her walk home on her own, not until she was nine, as per our current agreement, and only if we didn’t move because the school was only a five-minute walk away. I knew that Mia would walk home with one of the other children from school, who passed Mia’s house with her mum and siblings – there was every chance that parent hadn’t checked if Mia had actually got inside her home,

It wasn’t up to me to judge another parent though. I didn’t travel in Cara’s shoes and I didn’t know what else was going on in her life. I knew she loved Mia – she lit up when her daughter was around – but I couldn’t understand how she’d left her unattended and unsafe. What would’ve happened if I hadn’t gone to her house? Would Mia have been out there all night? It was almost summer – this was the last school half term before the big summer holidays – but the nights were cool and breezy, sea frets common.

A wave of panic washed over me. What if we hadn’t gone to Mia’s house? What it Heidi hadn’t wanted to have tea with her friend? I put the what ifs to one side and debated whether I’d be a bad parent if I had a glass of wine.

Maybe later.

I didn’t know where I stood with looking after Mia tonight. Should I phone the police – only that would get Cara into trouble. Should I contact the school for advice? I only had the old head’s number, who was now on a cruise somewhere, if I remembered correctly.

I’d already sent Cara a text message and tried to call her twice, the calls going straight through to voicemail. The text was showing as unread, so everything pointed to her not being available.

What if she was hurt or injured somewhere? Only Mia had said Cara was going away so it was planned.

At which point did I phone the police?

Cara was a daughter of the village, just as Heidi was, and Mia. The town looked after its own, which was a reason Joel had wanted us to live here, even though he’d offered to move to wherever I wanted to be, but that would’ve been like taking his essence away, even if it was living near the sea that stole him from us in the end.

Heidi’s idea of going to the Puffin Bay Inn was a good one. The town knew Cara, even if she kept herself to herself more often than she mixed, but there would be someone there I could take advice from, and it would keep the girls occupied too.

“Do you still want fish and chips at Puffin Inn?” I leaned against the wall, watching the two girls. They were colouring the same picture, although it was Mia giving the instructions rather than my bossy daughter for a change.

Heidi looked up. “Yes, please. Can we have ice cream for afters?”

I nodded, no bribery about eating all her dinner because that wasn’t how we worked. “We can. We can play on the beach too, but when we get back you’re both having baths.” Heidi was at the age where baths were a chore sent from the devil.

Her face fell and she looked grumpy.

“I like having a bath.” Mia’s voice was quiet. “It makes me feel warm afterwards.”

I didn’t want to find out why she didn’t feel warm normally. I suspected that Cara was short of money a lot of the time so didn’t put the heating on.

“Do you have a bath at home?” My daughter went there instead, sheer curiosity oozing out of her.

Mia shook her head. “It’s broken. I have a wash in the sink.” She didn’t smile.

I took a deep breath, feeling utterly out of my depth. “You can have a bath tonight and we have bubble bath too and a cosy dressing gown you can have for afterwards.”

Judging by Mia’s expression, it was the right thing to say. Her face brightened with a fragile smile, one of her front teeth missing already.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her fingers clutching the crayon she was using.

“It’s more than okay. I’ve let your mum know you’re with me so she doesn’t worry.” If she was worried. She must be – I couldn’t think what it’d be like if I left Heidi like that.

Her face fell, eyes looking away from me.

“Mia, did your mum say where she was going?”

Mia shook her head, still not looking at me. “Can I really have ice cream?”

“Of course.” My heart panged for her. No more questions for now.