Chapter Three
T hat was it then. The pub in the bay was full to the brim, with no rooms left, and all booked out for the next three weeks solid, and it was a similar story at the little bed-and-breakfast she’d discovered at the top of the hill.
She supposed at least she hadn’t come across the man she’d run over again.
She shifted position on the wooden bench, trying to push all thoughts of him and what had happened out of her mind as she continued to scroll through her phone in search of places within her budget she could stay which were no longer than an hour’s drive from Penworth Bay.
Nothing. She’d either rung them all or tried to book online only to have a message pop up to say they were full.
What now? She had her car. She could sleep in that.
For the time being, at least, but what about the long term?
She needed to find a solution. With Aunt Gwennie’s place having now been repossessed, she didn’t have anywhere to go.
Literally nowhere. She didn’t have any family; Gwennie had been the last of her mum’s side of the family.
And her dad’s? Well, that was a reason she had come to Penworth Bay, hoping her visit would answer some questions.
Questions about her paternal family, questions about her dad.
Questions about where she belonged in this world and what she was going to do with her life.
Ha, what was she going to do with her life?
She was nearing thirty-five, didn’t have a career and was now homeless.
Slumping her shoulders, Tilly drew her bag onto her lap.
She’d been caring for her aunt for over seven years now.
She’d had responsibilities, a routine, a purpose.
And now what did she have? The faint memories of what it was like to work a nine-to-five and a CV about as empty as an off-season football pitch.
Tilting her head back, she let the evening summer sun warm her face and listened to the world around her.
Holidaymakers were meandering across the cobbles after a day at the beach with towels draped over their arms, carrying picnic baskets, rubber rings and an assortment of buckets and spades.
Others were heading down towards the ocean carrying bags of chips, the fragrance of salt and vinegar trailing behind them.
Among the tourists were people walking their dogs or going for a seaside amble now that the temperature had cooled.
Opening her eyes, she stood up. She might not have been able to find anywhere local to stay, but one of the shopkeepers might just know of a local gem, perhaps somewhere that didn’t advertise online for whatever reason.
It was worth a go. And she needed to hurry, the haberdashery had already closed for the day and the cafe looked as though it wouldn’t be open much longer if the fact the owner had taken in the A-frame sign was anything to go by, so time was of the essence.
‘NO WORRIES. THANK YOU anyway.’ Tilly smiled at the lady whose name badge read Penny and turned to leave the cafe.
‘You could try next door at the bakery. Elsie has lived here for goodness knows how long. If anyone is bound to know, she is.’ Penny smiled warmly as she finished wiping the counter.
‘Oh, I think it’s closed.’ Tilly bit down on her bottom lip. ‘Don’t worry though, I’m sure something will come up.’
‘Knock and ask. She’s ever so lovely. She’ll have closed for a family dinner, but she won’t mind you knocking.’ Penny walked around the side of the counter.
‘Okay, thanks.’ Could she really just knock and disturb a family dinner? The bakery was the last shop in the small row she hadn’t tried. Just as she turned, the phone behind the counter began to ring.
‘I’d better get this, but honestly, knock and ask. She won’t mind.’ Penny smiled and picked up the phone before holding her hand over the speaker and nodding towards the door. ‘Sorry to ask, but would you mind just turning the sign on the door to closed, please?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Tilly nodded as she walked towards the door.
Even though nobody she’d asked had been able to give her any practical advice or suggest anywhere new to try for a room for the night, they’d all been so warm and welcoming.
Perhaps another reason Aunt Gwen and her parents had so loved it here?
Reaching the door, she turned the small sign to Closed before slipping back out onto the cobbles.
Right, she needed to do this. She’d just walk straight up to the bakery door and knock.
What was the worst that could happen? She interrupted the family meal and was told to leave without anyone advising her?
That was all. Literally. They weren’t likely to come at her with a pitchfork now, were they?
Besides, Penny had been about to close up for the day, and she hadn’t minded one bit Tilly asking her questions, and the haberdashery owner had answered the door when she’d knocked, despite the fact she’d already closed up.
Tilly knew why she felt nervous; it was because it sounded as though there were a lot of people in the bakery.
She’d noticed a few going in whilst sitting on the bench, and there must have been at least ten people, and that was the ones she’d noticed.
She wasn’t good with crowds, with people.
She and her aunt had kept themselves to themselves, even more so over the years as her aunt’s illness had taken hold and she’d been struggling to leave her home.
She paused outside the door to the bakery and listened.
She could hear chatting and laughter and possibly a child shrieking with joy.
She couldn’t interrupt. Could she? She glanced back towards the bench she’d been sitting on.
She had two choices, knock, interrupt and make a nuisance of herself but with the possibility of one of them being able to recommend somewhere to stay, or else sleep in her car for the night until she could find a bed-and-breakfast with a vacancy.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and cupped her hands around the glass before peering inside.
Wow, there were loads of people inside, more than she’d noticed going to the door.
Nope, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bring herself to knock.
Penny had assured her the owner was lovely, but what about everyone else?
They might not think kindly of a total stranger hammering on the door when they were so clearly enjoying themselves.
Tilly let her hands drop as she stepped away. She’d leave it and check on her mobile again. Perhaps they’d be a pub with rooms or some place she’d missed and could call up.
Settling her back against the bench again, Tilly laid her bag on her lap and pulled out her mobile.
It would be fine. She’d find somewhere, and if she didn’t?
Well, she’d sleep in her car or make the long journey back to her hometown and see if any of her old friends would put her up for a few days until.
.. Until when? Forever. And who was she kidding?
She hadn’t spoken to the handful of people she’d kept in touch with since she’d quit her job to look after her aunt for at least three years.
No one would have her. And if they did, then for how long?
She put her mobile on her lap and buried her face in her hands. Until what? Until she won the lottery, or someone gave her a brown envelope holding a letter to say she’d inherited a million pounds or a mansion in the Cotswolds from a long-lost relative?