Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
V erity sat bolt upright in bed to the screech of the gulls circling above the van. It was already beginning to get light outside. Scrabbling for her phone, she looked at the screen. It was black. Damn it, she’d forgotten to plug it into the portable charger overnight.
‘Shit,’ she said, throwing back the duvet and poking her head through the makeshift curtain that separated the front of the van from the living area. She heaved a sigh of relief as she stared at the clock on the dashboard. Thankfully she hadn’t overslept but it was time to be on the move. As the kettle came to the boil, she put her dirty clothes in the laundry bag stored underneath the bed, noting that by the end of the week she would need to find a laundrette. Or perhaps there would be a communal washing machine at one of the campsites they would be staying at. After she’d brushed her teeth and put on clean clothes, she pulled Sam’s jumper back over her head, not wanting to be separated from it just yet. As she stepped outside the van with a cup of tea, she took in the view one last time. It was just as stunning at this hour of the morning as it was last night.
Taking one last walk near the water’s edge, Verity noticed a couple of gulls going head to head at the far end of the beach, no doubt fighting over rich pickings they’d scavenged from the bin. With a last look at The Sea Glass Restaurant, she smiled as memories of last night washed over her. Despite her reservations about the cold water, it had actually been fun, and spending time with Sam was something she was not going to forget in a hurry. Verity couldn’t remember a time she’d made conversation with a complete stranger. Her confidence was growing and she welcomed being pushed outside her normal comfort zones.
Her old friendships had dwindled away over the years and she knew exactly why – Richard. When they got together, his friends became hers, but he made it very clear he didn’t like hers, which made it increasingly hard to find time for them. He was always cold with her work colleagues at the annual Christmas Party, and heaven forbid she should walk into a pub and began chatting to anyone; she would get the death stare. Realising she had missed out on many opportunities – new friends, nights out – she was beginning to be grateful for his infidelity, because it had at last set her free to explore life.
After one last look over the bay she finished her tea and decided to skip eating in case the sickness kicked in again on the ferry ride. With her bed made and her rucksack containing her essentials sitting on the passenger seat, she started the engine. As she pulled out onto the cobbled street, there wasn’t a soul in sight. Driving slowly towards the causeway, she switched on the radio.
The causeway was clear as she pulled on to it, but as Verity continued to drive, that started to change. Further ahead the sea was lapping over the road, which surprised her as she was expecting the causeway to be completely clear like yesterday. Maybe first thing in the morning there was shallow water to drive through? She wasn’t worried as she sat up in her seat and carried on, her wheels rolling through the water, because a little further on the causeway became visible again. Then, without warning, Verity’s heart – along with Hetty the van – dropped. She let out a scream and gripped the steering wheel as the van nosedived under the water. The wheels were no longer turning and the van had stalled. Panicking, Verity started turning the key but nothing happened. Quickly, she rummaged in her bag and pulled out her phone, frantically trying to get some life out of it, but again there was nothing.
With a racing heart she looked ahead at the miles between her and the mainland. It wouldn’t be long before the water began seeping through the bottom of the door and there was a huge possibility the van would sink fast. Trying to stay calm, she knew she had no option but to get out of the van as quickly as possible before it became submerged with her trapped inside. The rising water made it impossible to open the door so, grabbing her rucksack, Verity wound down the window. Having thrown the rucksack onto the roof, she squeezed herself out of the window into the freezing water. She managed to pull herself up onto the bonnet of the van and then clambered onto the roof. Now she had no clue what to do.
‘PUFFIN ELL!’ she screamed at the top of her lungs.
Luckily, the van seemed to be staying mostly above water. Still, she knew she needed to make a move quickly. Looking back towards Puffin Island, she could see that the causeway was becoming clear near the island; she just didn’t know how deep the water was between here and there. It looked like she would have to find out.
With her arms stretched out Verity managed to stand up on top of the van. She pulled her rucksack on to her back, knowing that her passport and phone were going to be ruined the moment she hit the water – but what could she do? Just as she was about to slide off the roof into the sea she heard a continuous beeping. She looked up to see a black and yellow four-wheel drive heading towards her. Help was coming.
‘Thank you!’ she shouted, even though they wouldn’t be able to hear her. The car stopped at the furthest point it could reach before the wheels were fully submerged. The car door opened and the driver got out, opened the rear doors and took out a canoe. Within seconds he was paddling towards her. Verity narrowed her eyes, a smile spread across her face as she recognised her rescuer.
‘It’s my knight in shining armour. We meet again!’
But Sam didn’t look amused as he got closer. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? It’s not safe to cross yet.’
‘Well, I can see that,’ she replied. ‘I’m not standing on top of my van for no reason.’
There was still no smile on Sam’s face. ‘It’s impatient people like you that cost the taxpayers tens of thousands of pounds in rescue costs each year. Did you know that sea rescues can cost up to two grand and air rescues up to four? We’re going to have to tow the van out even though it’s likely to be written off. And it will cost you as well, as I suspect your insurance company will regard this as contributory negligence and be unwilling to pay out.’
Verity was taken aback by his not so warm welcome. Rescuer Sam was a very startling different person from the warm Sam she’d enjoyed last night. ‘Surely she’ll start again when she’s dried out?’
Sam shook his head in disbelief. ‘You’re going to have to get wet. Can you slide down the back of the van and slip into the water? I’ll try and get the canoe as close as possible. But before you do that, throw me your rucksack.’
Verity did as instructed and Sam placed it on his lap before she slipped off the van, not very gracefully. The shock of the cold water was no better the second time around but she didn’t dare voice her discomfort. Pulling herself into the back of the canoe, she looked at the van she had lovingly restored over the past few months and reality hit her. Fighting back the tears, she swallowed a lump in her throat.
‘Whatever possessed you to try and cross the causeway at half-past two in the morning when it’s not safe? You only had to wait another hour or so.’
Verity was confused. ‘It had gone half-past three when I crossed, and I checked the tide times.’
‘It’s only coming up to three o’clock now and you can see the water is still covering the causeway towards Sea’s End.’
‘It can’t be only three o’clock now. The clock in the van said it was half three.’
‘Well, I suggest it’s probably not working.’
Verity was quiet. That was actually a strong possibility because, now she came to think about it, it always seemed to be mid-afternoon when she checked the time. ‘I forgot to charge my phone because I had other things on my mind.’ It seemed her perfect time on Puffin Island had just ended with a very expensive disaster.
Sam was rowing back towards the four-wheel drive.
‘How did you come to rescue me?’
‘There’s a group of island coastguards on a rota. My shift has only just started. I was heading towards the rescue hut to take over when I saw you from the top of Lighthouse Lane. I just thought you were going to park up and when you kept on going, I raised the alarm.’
‘What will happen to my van?’
‘It’ll be towed to the cliff top.’
Verity looked horrified. ‘You aren’t going to push her off the edge of the cliff, are you?’
‘Don’t be daft. Just the other side of Pete’s place is a small garage owned by Nathan, the local mechanic. He’ll do a post mortem.’ For the first time Sam had a look of amusement on his face.
When they reached the car, Sam stood up in the canoe and stepped out. Verity felt an utter fool. Looking back at Hetty she felt a sense of panic. ‘How am I going to get to Amsterdam?’
‘Certainly not in that van, but you can cross the causeway in a taxi and catch the ferry. By the colour of your lips, though, I’d suggest you need to make sure you’re physically fit before you go anywhere.’
Verity was freezing, she was wet through and beginning to shiver, probably from the shock of her ordeal. She knew things could have been a lot worse if Sam hadn’t spotted her. ‘I can’t leave the van here. She’s my home for the next six months so I didn’t have to pay for hotels.’
Sam looked towards the van. ‘I’m sorry to say this, but I beg to differ.’ Helping Verity out of the canoe, he opened the boot of the car and pulled out a thermal blanket. ‘We need to get you warm.’
‘I’ve got no dry clothes. They’re all in …’ She didn’t finish her sentence, instead promptly bursting into tears.
‘You’re not the first and you won’t be the last to get stuck in the water. Jump in the car – the seat warmer is on. Clemmie’s an early bird so I’ll message to see if she has any spare clothes and hopefully she’ll pick up the text when she wakes.’
Verity climbed into the seat with the thermal blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
‘In the meantime, you’ll have to have another one of my hoodies.’ This time he smiled. ‘Are you okay?’ His voice had softened considerably.
‘I’m a complete idiot. If only I’d charged my phone, I’d have seen the correct time.’
‘I can’t argue with that.’
‘What happens to me now?’
‘There’s a rescue hut, where you can sit and wait whilst you decide your next move, but as nowhere opens for hours you can come back to mine and make yourself comfortable. I’m on shift until lunch time. Let me load up the canoe whilst you decide.’ Sam pointed towards the mainland. ‘The tide has turned.’
Verity could now see the clear causeway leading to Sea’s End. She closed her eyes for a moment whilst Sam slammed the boot shut and climbed behind the wheel.
‘If only I’d waited another hour.’
‘If only.’ Sam radioed in on the walkie talkie. ‘Stranded motorist rescued. I’ll arrange for Nathan to tow the van up to the garage.’
Verity didn’t know who Sam was talking to, but she was so cold that her teeth began uncontrollably chattering.
‘Two minutes and I’ll get you inside and the fire lit. You need to get out of those wet clothes and warmed up. Your body temperature will be dropping.’
‘Thank you. I actually feel really tired and I’m soaked to the bone.’ She looked in the sun visor mirror, seeing the tinge of blue to her lips that Sam had mentioned.
‘I’m not surprised, you’ve probably only had a couple of hours’ sleep. Any idea whether you’re still going to attempt to catch your ferry? Because if you are we’ll need to arrange transport to get you there.’
Verity didn’t know what to do. The shock of possibly losing the van was swamping her. ‘I just can’t think… Oh no! Ava. She’s meeting me in Amsterdam.’
‘Let’s get you warmed up and you can have a think about what you’re going to do.’
Looking out of the window, Verity saw a steady stream of cars driving towards them. ‘That’s a lot of people up at this time in the morning.’
‘They probably either work off the island or are catching one of the early ferries.’
Once they’d left the causeway, Sam drove straight towards Lighthouse Lane. He slowed down as he approached the rainbow-coloured cottages then swung into the first driveway. ‘Here we are.’
Verity’s eyes widened. She couldn’t believe it. ‘You have to be kidding me.’
Sam parked the car. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You live here?’
‘I do.’
‘This is unreal. This is my cottage.’
‘Have you had a bang on the head, too?’
In her excitement, Verity grabbed his arm. ‘When I was a child my granny used to tell me stories about this cottage and I said I was going to live here one day. I can’t believe this.’
She stared at the whimsical, cosy storybook cottage. ‘How long have you lived here?’
‘This cottage has been in the Wilson family for as long as anyone can remember.’
‘My granny…she’s been here.’ Verity pointed to the oak porch with the blush-coloured roses tumbling all over it. ‘She always told me the roses around the door were stunning. How long have they been here?’
‘For as long as I can remember.’
‘Wilson. The W has to be Wilson.’
‘Like I said last night, I don’t think it’s possible. Have you any more information to go on?’
‘Only the date stamped on the postcard. Oh, and the picture of the puffins that’s been hanging in Granny’s house for years and years. There was a message written on the back of it in the same handwriting as the postcard. It said, “The summer of 1972”.’
Sam’s eyes shot up. ‘My grandfather died the summer of 1972.’
‘I’ve got a gut feeling about this, I think my granny and your grandfather knew each other. She went into so much detail about this cottage. She’s been here.’
‘Come on, let’s get you inside.’ Sam climbed out of the car then did the gentlemanly thing and opened the passenger side for Verity.
‘You’d best come in and see if it lives up to your expectations.’ Sam put the key in the lock and opened the door.
Verity stepped inside and was surprised to see Sam put his finger to his lips.
‘Can you hear that?’ he whispered.
‘I can’t hear anything,’ Verity whispered back.
‘That is the sound of the worst guard dog in the world. Not one bark!’
Verity stifled a giggle. ‘Jimmy will be too busy dreaming about shoes.’
Hanging up her rucksack on the coat stand in the hallway, Sam led the way into the living room, pulled an armchair towards the open log fire and quickly lit the fire. ‘I’m glad I got the fire ready yesterday. Take a seat and I’ll get you a towel, a jumper and some tea. Then you can tell me all about this postcard.’
Verity was standing in the middle of the room, amazement no doubt written all over her face as she spun around taking in everything. ‘This is surreal.’
As with the rest of Puffin Island, her granny had accurately described this room: the wood-framed window overlooking the garden, the oak beams running the length of the ceiling, the impressive open fire. On the wall hung a number of photographs. She took a closer look and one immediately caught her eye. Standing in front of a boat was a handsome young man holding up the largest fish she’d ever seen in her life. This had to be Sam’s grandfather.
‘What was your grandfather’s name?’ Verity asked, hearing Sam walk back into the room.
‘Joe,’ he replied.
‘There was a Joe in my grandmother’s stories. I remember now.’ Verity couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice. ‘Let me think…’ She was quiet for a second. ‘Joe, that’s right, he was destined for greater things, and…oh my…yes, a musician…’ Verity was tripping over her words. ‘She told me a story that he was in a band and was signed to a record label and was about to go on tour with none other than Bowie.’ Verity laughed. ‘Of course, I do know some of the stories had to be fictional.’
Sam looked amazed. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me?’ He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Because that’s all true.’
Now it was Verity’s turn to look amazed.
Sam placed two mugs on the table before passing Verity a towel. ‘Here, drink that. At least your lips are a little less blue and you’ve stopped shivering.’
‘I think amazement has taken over the shock.’
Draping the towel around her shoulders, Verity pointed to the photograph. ‘That has to be your grandfather. You look just like him.’
Sam stood beside her. ‘It is. That was the biggest catch of the day.’
‘If I’d known there were fish as big as that in the bay you would never have got me in that water.’ She turned and looked around the room. ‘I have to say, I wouldn’t have put you down as a cosy cottage kind of guy.’
‘And what would you have put me down as?’
‘Modern apartment, minimal things, large TV and the latest technology.’ Verity sat back on the chair and hugged the mug of tea.
‘That sounds like complete hell to me. Let me go and get you some warm clothes. I’m afraid it’ll have to be a pair of my joggers, a T-shirt and a sweatshirt. I don’t have many dresses in my wardrobe.’ He smiled at her as he walked out of the door. Returning in five minutes, he handed her a pile of clothes. ‘There’s a bathroom just?—’
‘Down the hall to the left,’ Verity finished off his sentence.
Sam cocked an eyebrow. ‘Your granny was very thorough with her descriptions.’
‘Do you, or did you, have a rope swing that hangs from an old oak tree at the side of the garden, and a gate that takes you straight down to a cove?’
‘I do. And you have…a postcard?’
Verity nodded. ‘What’s your gut feeling? Do you think the postcard could be from your grandfather?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Wait there.’
Sam watched as Verity hurried back down the hallway and grabbed her rucksack from the coat stand. Returning to the living room she plonked herself on the green velvet sofa next to him and rummaged in her bag. ‘Here, take a look at this.’ She handed him the postcard. ‘It’s from your grandfather, isn’t it? Have you got anything from that summer? Did your grandfather have any photographs from that time? Anything that would link them?’
Sam shook his head, and walked over to the dresser. He took out a small notebook then sat on the couch next to Verity. He opened the book and laid the postcard next to the first page.
‘What’s that?’
‘This was my grandfather’s wages book. He used to log his work hours, the days and times, and in this column the weight of the fish, as he got paid by the weight of the fish he caught. As you can see, some days were better than others.’ Sam pointed to the writing on the page and then at the postcard. ‘I don’t want to burst your bubble, Verity, but I think you’re barking up the wrong tree. The handwriting in this book and the postcard are different. Look at the letters.’
Verity examined both carefully.
‘I do believe they knew each other, because how would you know about this place unless you’re some sort of stalker or psychic? But as for the postcard, I don’t think it was from him,’ he said gently.
Verity felt disappointed. She so badly wanted the postcard to be from Joe as it would solve some of the mystery. ‘Do you find it fascinating that they were probably sat here together back then and now here we are? I do.’
‘It is a little surreal, I must admit. Even harder to believe, given that our paths crossed because of a chance meeting outside a greasy spoon.’
‘It was fate. The universe brought us together for a reason.’
Sam smiled at her. ‘Maybe it’s going to take teamwork to discover what this secret is.’
‘Teamwork, I like the sound of that.’ Verity looked around. ‘I still can’t get over the fact that she’s been here. In her stories this cottage was beautiful and so was Cliff Top Cottage. I have to admit that I was quite surprised by the real Cliff Top Cottage, as it wasn’t how Granny described it at all.’
‘Yeah, Pete has really let it go.’
‘Do you know why?’
‘I wouldn’t like to guess at the reasons for anything that man does.’
The words were said with hostility. ‘It sounds like you aren’t a fan of Pete’s?’ she probed.
‘Let’s just say I’m still waiting for the truth to come out.’
‘About?’
Sam lay the book and postcard on the coffee table and picked up his mug of tea. He clearly wasn’t about to share any more of his thoughts on the matter. An awkward silence filled the room.
‘Well, at least this cottage lived up to my expectations,’ she babbled. ‘I can’t believe I’m sitting here.’
‘You’re very lucky to be sitting here after your latest escapade.’
Just at that moment Sam’s phone rang.
‘That was Nathan,’ he said a moment later, after hanging up. ‘He’s already towed Hetty up to the garage, and will assess the damage later on this afternoon. For now, I need to get back to the coastguard’s hut. Even though it’s safe to cross the causeway, you still get the odd swimmer stranded when they decide to brave the cold water and get cramp. It’s usually to impress a woman, and the swimmers are usually naked.’
‘Is that what you tried to do yesterday?’
‘I had my boxers on,’ he replied with a wicked glint in his eye.
‘But I do think you were trying to impress me.’ She gave him a tiny smirk.
Sam stood up and pointed towards the kitchen. ‘Jimmy’s asleep in his crate. Help yourself to a shower. I’m sure you know where that is.’
She pointed through the door to the stairs.
‘If you decide to make the ferry to Amsterdam, there’s a taxi number on the corkboard in the kitchen, and if you decide you’re staying and want to catch up on sleep, the bedroom is?—’
‘Through there.’ Verity pointed. ‘Or there’s two upstairs. I should have pretended I was psychic, shouldn’t I?’ She laughed.
Sam shook his head in jest. ‘If you do decide you’re off on your travels’—he took a key off his keyring—‘lock the door behind you and leave the key under the mat. If you don’t go, I’ll see you later.’
They looked at each other for a moment.
‘Thanks for rescuing me.’
‘You’re welcome but I really have to go.’ Sam edged backwards towards the door. He gave her one last smile before he shut the door behind him. Two seconds later it opened again. ‘And if you go you’d better leave me some contact details. You’ll need an update on the van and we can discuss the mystery of the postcard.’
‘And here was me thinking you wanted my phone number, just because.’
‘Goodbye, Verity Callaway.’ The front shut again but this time it didn’t reopen. Verity heard the car engine start and the gravel crunched under the tyres as it pulled away from the cottage.
With Ava very much on her mind, she located the bathroom and was relieved to strip off her wet clothes. Climbing into the shower, she welcomed the warm water. She knew she wasn’t going to make the ferry to Amsterdam and a tiny part of her was quite happy about that, despite the disastrous consequences of her actions. But there was also a part of her that wasn’t looking forward to telling Ava, because she didn’t yet know whether the garage could fix the van, and there was a strong likelihood that they couldn’t – which would mean they had no travelling van to live and sleep in for their adventure together.
Ten minutes later, feeling clean and refreshed, Verity dried herself whilst taking a nosey around the bathroom. Sam had impeccable taste in grooming products and aftershaves, which were all lined up on a bathroom shelf. Squirting a tiny amount of aftershave into the air, Verity briefly closed her eyes and took in the aroma. That one was definitely Sam Wilson’s signature scent; she recognised it immediately.
Verity got changed into the T-shirt and joggers, and the oversized sweatshirt was cosy as she pulled the sleeves down over her arms. She wandered back into the living room, eager to explore the rest of the cottage.
Slowly opening the kitchen door, she peered in. Jimmy was still fast asleep in his crate with a blanket draped over the top of it. There was the racing-green Aga that Granny had talked about and the inglenook with the wood burner. The farmhouse table was positioned in the middle of the room. Everywhere was spick and span.
Verity opened another door and stepped down into a tiny hallway where a wrought-iron staircase spiralled upwards. Opposite was the snug, which was just as homely as the first room. The walls were covered with framed pictures, and there was another beautiful open fire with an oak beam mantel, and gorgeous wall lights in antique brass with shades that matched the curtains. The small chesterfield was covered in throws and the plushest velvet cushions she had ever seen. Two cosy fabric chairs, a huge rug and a small table with a computer had been placed in front of the window. At the back of the room was an impressive bookcase that stretched from floor to ceiling, filled with books.
Verity wandered towards it and ran her finger along the spines of the books. She was impressed. Sam had all the classics as well as fiction in different genres and numerous books on Puffin Island, which she assumed were written by local authors. She pulled one out. It was all about the history of puffins and included details of the puffin census that went back years. There was another book on the history of the island and its local trades. Taking it from the shelf, Verity sat down on the settee and flicked through the pages. There before her eyes was a photo of Joe Wilson, branded the youngest yet most competent fisherman on the island. His resemblance to Sam was uncanny; there could be no doubt he was his grandson. Their facial features were very similar, and they had the same wild hair and rugged good looks. She thought about what Sam had told her about his grandparents. It must have been difficult back in those days. Not only were they very young but for the relationship to fall apart and the two to go their separate ways when there was a child involved… Even in her own generation Verity knew numerous couples that were far from happy but stayed together for the sake of their children, and because splitting up would mean financial ruin. Fortunately, when she split up with Richard there were no children involved and the house belonged to her. And, as he never made any financial contribution to the upkeep, he had no claim on it whatsoever.
Closing the book, she stood up and slipped it back on the shelf.
‘Oh my gosh,’ she said out loud. She took a step back and scanned the bookcase from top to bottom. Her granny’s stories had been so magical that she’d even convinced Verity that this cottage had a secret door leading to a secret sitting room, and that door was opened by a book in the bookcase. Very Harry Potter. Maybe her granny should have written children’s books for a living. Verity remembered it very clearly. Her granny had told her that the book was on the second shelf from the top, third from the right, and apparently when you pulled it out a switch caused the bookcase to swing open. She chuckled to herself as her eyes skimmed the bookshelves. ‘I mean, who has secret rooms behind bookshelves?’
There it was, the second shelf from the top, third book on the right. ‘Surely not,’ she said with a smile, knowing that secret doors only happened in the movies. But something made Verity look at the book in question. She was amazed to see it was the same book she’d bought from the bookshop only yesterday – Pride and Prejudice . Reaching up she took the book off the shelf, disappointed for a moment when the bookcase didn’t swing open as her granny had told her.
This Pride and Prejudice was an earlier edition than hers, but in immaculate condition. Opening it, she read the inscription.
To Joe,
A little something to mark the summer we’ll never forget.
Love always,
Hetty x
Verity’s mouth fell wide open, recognising the familiar handwriting before she’d even read the signature.
‘Granny,’ she murmured with instant excitement. ‘Wow!’ She couldn’t take her eyes off it. This was proof! This book connected her grandmother to Joe, and so the postcard had to be from him. With a pounding heart she carefully flicked through the pages hoping for more clues. She couldn’t wait to show Sam, and willed him to hurry back from his shift, wondering if he knew about the writing inside the book.
And what is your secret? Verity knew if her granny had kept that picture hanging on her wall for years, the bond between her and Joe must have been a special one, though she couldn’t help wondering how her grandfather fitted into the equation. But the main thought that was running through her mind was whether her granny might have told her those stories in so much detail – especially the part about the bookcase – because she wanted her to come to Puffin Island and discover something else? Was it just a coincidence that the book she’d inscribed to Joe was in the exact place she had described? Verity wasn’t sure, but she felt sure there was more to discover about her granny’s visit to Puffin Island. At that moment she made the decision to stay longer on the island. Having been close to Joe, Betty was Verity’s best hope to shed more light on the situation. If she had anything to share, Verity wanted to hear it first-hand.
Laying the book on the settee, Verity stood on tiptoe and groped around for a switch. Finding one, feeling a thrill, she pressed it. There was an instant whirling sound and the bookcase began to move.
‘No way!’
As she watched in amazement, the bookcase revealed a normal doorway. She stepped into the room and took in her surroundings. It was a comfy office space with a small desk, a computer and a comfy-looking sofa covered in a soft woollen throw. On the wall was a map of the island, showing every building, and to the side a list of all the residents. There was a photograph of The Sea Glass Restaurant on opening night with Sam cutting a ribbon. He hadn’t changed much at all, his hair maybe a little shorter and less wild. On the far wall hung a number of guitars, along with photos of Sam sitting behind a microphone with a guitar on his knee. A number of them showed Amelia and Clemmie standing alongside him.
Verity wondered what it would be like to live within such a small community where everyone knew everyone. She’d barely ever spoken to her neighbours and though she made a point of saying a cheerful hello if she passed someone on the street, she generally didn’t receive more than a grunt back, if she wasn’t ignored completely. She’d often wished she had a local pub where she could wander in on her own, feeling comfortable chatting to all and sundry. The friendship she’d witnessed between Clemmie and Amelia was something she’d often wished for, a friendship close to home, a place where you could share all your news and go for walks and grab a coffee.
The window of the office looked out on to Lighthouse Lane and right outside was an old-fashioned-looking lamppost that resembled something from a Disney movie. The stream was bubbling away towards the harbour and the sun was beginning to shine down on the day. Feeling exhausted, Verity pulled back the throw and climbed underneath it. Resting her head on the cushion, before she knew it, she’d fallen asleep.
* * *
What seemed like only seconds later was in fact quite a few hours. Woken by a loud clang, Verity opened her eyes to find she was being watched by another pair of eyes, huge ones that were firmly fixed on her. ‘Good morning, Jimmy!’ As soon as Jimmy heard her voice his tail wagged furiously, then he sat back on his hind legs with his front paws stretched out and woofed playfully.
‘No, Jimmy!’ But it was too late. Jimmy launched himself at her and began licking her face. Quickly bringing the throw up to shield herself, Verity managed to wrestle him and push him off before he woofed again and bounded out of the room, soon returning shaking a toy in his mouth.
Smiling, Sam walked into the room behind the pup and handed her a mug of coffee. ‘I see Jimmy’s found you and you’ve discovered the secret room.’
Verity shot up right. ‘I can’t believe it. The switch was exactly where Granny said it was.’ Her voice was full of excitement. ‘And there’s more…’ Verity threw back the throw and hurried to retrieve the book that was still lying on the sofa in the next room. She bounded back, as excitable as Jimmy, and thrust the book into Sam’s hand.
Sam pointed. ‘You know you can just push the door open?’
‘And where’s the fun in that when you have secret switches to open doors? And never mind that. Look! Pride and Prejudice !’
‘ Pride and Prejudice , arguably one of the greatest romance novels of all time. The opinionated heroine, Elizabeth Bennet, frequently finding herself at odds with her beau, the uptight Mr Darcy.’
‘A man in touch with the classics, very impressive.’
‘You look like you’re about to combust.’
‘This book was in the place of the secret switch. Now open it! That’s definitely my granny’s writing. Have you seen this before?’
‘These classics were all boxed up in the attic. I stumbled across them about ten years ago and dusted them down. I didn’t even check inside them.’
‘You do know what this means though, don’t you?’
‘That they liked classics?’
Verity rolled her eyes. ‘This confirms they knew each other. I’m convinced W is your grandfather! He has to be; it all fits. I wonder how long my granny was here for. Did they have a relationship? Did they keep in touch after she left the island?’
Sam shook his head. ‘They didn’t.’
‘But you don’t know that.’
‘I do. The postcard was dated 1972, and this inscription mentions the summer they’ll never forget. If it was the same summer, my grandfather passed away at the end of it.’
‘That’s so sad.’ Verity stared at the book with her hand on her heart, suddenly feeling teary. ‘Do you think she knew?’
Sam shrugged. ‘Your guess is as good as mine.’
‘We know she was here for the summer so she must have given him the book before she went home.’
Sam nodded. ‘I do know that summer was the best of his life.’
‘I’d like to think that had something to do with my grandmother.’ She smiled.
‘That was the summer his music began to take off. Betty told me everything. The crowds of girls flocking to the pub when the band was playing. That was the summer they got offered the record deal and it was confirmed they would support Bowie…and then everything changed.’ Sam finished his tea and Verity realised it was because of Joe’s death that the band didn’t tour.
‘I’d love to have heard him play. I have all the songs that he’d written kept in that cupboard over there. He had a songbook where he used to scribble down lyrics and music.’
‘What a fantastic keepsake.’
‘I didn’t think much to their band name though.’ Sam chuckled. ‘The Men from Puffin Island.’
‘My granny loved music, too. She was an amazing singer but she didn’t seem to pass that gene on to me. Apparently she’d get up at any opportunity and belt out a song. I think we have our answer. I do think the postcard is from your grandfather.’ Verity smiled. ‘And I don’t know where my grandfather fits into all this but if Joe couldn’t live without her, I think they had a summer fling. She was a good catch, my granny, just like her granddaughter.’ She playfully nudged Sam’s arm and he gave her a heart-warming smile. ‘I’m glad it’s your grandfather, I think it’s so romantic. Maybe when I get home there will be a postcard waiting on the mat telling me you can’t live without me.’ Verity was teasing but secretly she really wanted to see his reaction.
Sam shook his head in jest. ‘I’ve no time for writing a postcard today, I have a meeting at one p.m., but I can make you some food before I go. I’m assuming you decided against catching the ferry today?’
Startled, Verity sat up straight. ‘I still haven’t messaged Ava! And I should be on the boat to Amsterdam right now.’
‘Yeah, you’ve long missed that ferry ride.’
Verity exhaled. ‘I’m not looking forward to this phone call. Ava isn’t going to be happy. I need to charge my phone.’ She disappeared into the other room, pulled out her phone and charger from her rucksack and plugged them in a socket at the side of the settee.
‘I’ll go and make you some food whilst you apologise and sort out your travel plans. Oh, and before I forget, there’s a pile of clothes here from Clemmie. I picked them up from the tearoom on my way home.’
‘Thank you, that’s so kind.’
Sam headed towards the kitchen with Jimmy hot on his heels. Verity looked at the screen of her phone, willing it to light up. As soon as a tiny bit of charge kicked in, it burst into life. From the continuous beep Verity could see there were at least nine missed calls from Ava and a voicemail. Damn. Her heart was racing as she checked her messages, her eyes closing as Ava’s voice sounded out.
‘I’ve tried to ring you umpteen times. Where are you? You shouldn’t be on the ferry just yet.’ Verity knew this message had probably been left hours ago when she was stranded on the causeway. Ava continued, ‘I know you’ve always thought I’m a bit of a flaky friend and I’m so sorry but I’m going to live up to that reputation. Please don’t kill me but I’m not on the ferry.’ There was a long pause and Verity knew that Ava was trying to work out how to soften the blow. ‘I applied for a job with a TV company, had the interview and never really thought much more of it. But I got the job and it starts in London on Monday. I’m so sorry, Verity, but it’s an opportunity I can’t give up. You can still go to Amsterdam without me though! You can do this by yourself. Ring me when you get a minute.’
Verity put the phone down with a huge smile on her face. She blew out a breath as Sam walked back into the room holding a tray. ‘She didn’t kill you then?’
‘I’ve not actually spoken to her yet.’
‘Verity!’
‘No, it’s okay, she’s left me a voicemail. Ava’s not on the ferry. She’s not going to Amsterdam. She’s been offered a job in London and is starting on Monday, but she’s insisting I still go and find myself. She thinks it’ll be good for me.’
‘And what do you think about that?’
Her smile grew wider. ‘I’m secretly chuffed. I wanted to spend more time on the island and this gives me the perfect opportunity.’
‘Well, that makes sense, but I have to say, at this time of year it’ll be difficult to get a room at the hotel, and the B&B is usually booked up far in advance.’
‘Even if my van can’t go anywhere, once everything has dried out, I can still sleep in it, if Nathan can tow it to a safe spot for me. This was meant to be.’ Verity could already picture herself sleeping on top of the cliffs and waking up to the sunrise overlooking the puffins and the harbour. That type of adventure was more on her level than fighting for her life dodging the thousands of bicycles on the busy streets of Amsterdam.
‘There’s always a spare room here in the meantime, until you get yourself sorted – and I don’t mean the sofa in my office.’
‘That’s very kind of you. Thank you.’
‘And anyway, I’m invested now.’
‘Invested?’
‘I want to know more about our grandparents, but in the meantime’—he pointed to the tray— ‘sandwich, chocolate flapjack and crisps.’
‘That looks amazing.’
‘You can thank Beachcomber Bakery. I took the chance you’d still be here and grabbed it all on my way back. I always think a sandwich tastes better when it’s made by someone else. I’ve got to head out now to a meeting but feel free to stay here. Keep the key in case you want to go out.’ Sam called Jimmy and clipped on his lead. ‘Make yourself at home.’
Verity was still smiling as the front door shut behind them. She stood by the window and watched them walk down the lane. Not quite believing the turn of events in the last twenty-four hours, she looked up to the sky. A day of sunshine was not to be missed. She thought about last night as well, the same sky but dark with twinkling stars. When the shooting star whizzed across the night sky, she’d closed her eyes and made a wish, and that wish had just come true. She was staying on Puffin Island for a while longer, which gave her time to try to uncover more about her granny’s time here – but, more importantly, it gave her an opportunity to hang around with Sam, which brought a huge smile to her face.