Chapter 7
Mattie grimaced as she stretched out on the bed, the sheet rumpled at her feet and a fan aimed directly at her naked body.
Everything hurt. Her head, her legs, even her skin.
The ibuprofen she’d taken last night had helped her sleep, but they’d worn off, and now she needed more.
She glanced at the clock radio on the bedside table: nine forty-five.
That late already? She’d missed breakfast, which was a shame because, unlike yesterday evening, she was hungry.
Her phone rang, and she saw it was a video call from Shona.
She accepted it but covered up the camera. “Morning, Shona.”
“Put the screen on so I can see you,” said Shona.
Mattie grabbed a clean pair of boyshorts and a vest from her suitcase. “Hang on a mo. I’m naked, and you really don’t need to be seeing that. Talk while I throw some clothes on.”
“I see I won our bet. You couldn’t manage to stay away from work for even twenty-four hours.”
“Yes, yes, all right. You win.” Mattie appreciated Shona’s snarkiness. It was how their friendship worked. “Though to be fair, I didn’t go looking for work. That story found me. I’m modelling a particularly fetching shade of cherry red on my face right now as a punishment.”
“Show me.”
Decently attired, Mattie turned the phone and looked at the screen. “Told you.”
Shona snorted. “Classy.” Then she tsked. “You look crap.”
“I love you too.”
“Mattie, you’re sunburnt, bleary-eyed, and have the air of someone who had an argument with a ten-tonne lorry and lost. Have you seen a doctor?”
“I don’t need one.” That was her story, and she was sticking to it.
No need to admit that she’d freaked the hell out of herself by fainting.
Normally, she tended to be hardier than that.
But what had she expected? Her decision to hike back to Cove House during the fiercest heat of the day had been seriously flawed and in turn, exacerbated every other poor decision she’d made, like failing to buy more water.
She knew the dangers of dehydration and heat exposure, for fuck’s sake, so why had she ridden roughshod over the basics?
Because of fear. Bloody Kenya. She shuffled on the pillows. “Thanks for the voicemail yesterday.”
“It helped?”
“I listened to it three times because it felt like you were actually with me.” Her voice wobbled.
“There’s no escaping me. It’s a good job you texted last night, otherwise I’d have been on the first train down,” Shona said. “How are you really feeling now? Because it’s not rocket science, is it? You, witnessing a fire, so close up. It’s going to mess with your head.”
Mattie sighed deeply. “I’m all right now. Really. I just... It was like there was a big collision in my head and I kind of lost it.”
“Tell me?”
“Seeing that woman trapped in the fire, knowing exactly how she felt. I was crap, Shona. I froze. All I managed to do was ring 999.”
“How would you rushing into a burning building help anyone?” asked Shona. “You’d have ended up needing rescuing yourself. Stop beating yourself up.”
“I don’t get why everything’s gone pear-shaped now.
I mean, I’ve reported on other blazes since Kenya.
There was the massive one at that tower block in Glasgow earlier this year.
That didn’t trigger an anxiety attack.” Not much of one, anyway.
She’d kept the panic-stricken moments to herself, otherwise Shona, or Simon, or her boss would have pressured her to return to counselling.
“There’s a big difference,” Shona said, her voice calm and measured. “With Glasgow, you already knew the outcome. Today, you didn’t know how things would pan out. You were watching it in real time. That’s what made it so scary for you. Please, Mattie, do yourself a favour and call your therapist.”
“Your help yesterday was enough. I’ll be fine.” Mattie ran her hands through her hair and winced. Christ, had she got sunburn on her scalp too?
“I’m no expert—”
“Said one of London’s top paediatric rheumatology consultants.”
“Smart arse,” said Shona. “Tell me you’ll ring her tomorrow. I’m not a mental health expert, but I know when someone needs help.”
“I’m on holiday, Shona.” It was a lame excuse, and Mattie knew it.
“Yes, you are, which is why you’re going to tell me you’ve already handed over the story to someone else.”
“Something’s being hushed up, I’m sure of it.” She was also sure that even if Nell wasn’t part of it, she certainly knew about it.
Shona waved at her. “Hello? Earth to Mattie. It’s not your story anymore.”
“When has that ever stopped me?” Her headache upped its tempo, and she winced. She was about to say she needed painkillers when she was distracted by a cat’s tail wagging in front of Shona. “Juno!”
Shona attempted to grab the cat but Juno shot off. “Juno is in my bad books.”
Mattie grinned. “Another mouse gift?”
“Two mice gifts.” Shona sighed. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed your change of subject.”
“You’d love it here. You should bring Lisa down for a weekend away. Fantastic sea views, excellent walking. Cove House is cosy, and the people here are lovely.” Mattie recounted the first evening’s wine o’clock on the patio and how Angie and Nell had looked after her yesterday.
“Hang on, reverse! The neighbour and the policewoman are one and the same? Wait, I’m just calling up your news report again.” The sound of clicking was followed by Shona whistling. “Chief Inspector Nell Abraham, right? She’s hot.”
Mattie’s face warmed from more than just the sunburn.
“Bet you noticed.”
“Of course I did.” How could she not? Most of all, she remembered a hand cradling her face.
The gesture had flooded her with the sort of comfort she hadn’t felt in years, but she kept that to herself.
“I also noticed that she reminds me of blackberry brambles. Sometimes sweet, sometimes sharp, but almost always prickly.”
“Very descriptive.” Shona stretched. “Now I know that you’re safe and your libido has finally woken up again, I’m going to have a shower and take my lovely dad out for lunch.”
“Say hi to him from me. I’m going to have another shower. My hair still stinks of smoke.” Mattie wrinkled her nose comically. Then she turned serious again. “Thank you for listening and everything. And thank Lisa for letting me borrow her wife’s shoulder yet again.”
“You’re welcome. And do try to stay away from breaking news stories for the next few days, eh?”
Mattie hung up. Another five minutes of rest, and she’d have a shower.
When she checked the time again, it was gone noon. She’d dozed off, still clutching her phone. Her head was woolly, and her mouth was dry as sand. There was a sharp knock on the door, followed by Angie calling her name.
“Hang on.” Mattie’s tongue stumbled on the words, and she slurped at a glass of water. Then she threw on a pair of shorts before opening the door.
“Ah, you’re still with us. I just needed to check, after last night’s events.” Angie seemed to assess her. “Did I wake you?”
“It was good that you did. I’m still a little dehydrated, I think.”
“That’s unsurprising. You must be hungry, seeing as you missed breakfast. How does a toasted bacon sandwich sound?”
Mattie grinned. “Divine. But I do feel guilty at all the extra meals you’ve been providing.”
“Don’t be.” Angie brushed away her concern with a dismissive flash of her hand. “Come down to the garden when you’re ready.”
Twenty minutes later, after a shower in which Mattie finally managed to get her hair to smell more of jasmine blossom shampoo than toxic smoke, she sat at the patio table under the shade of the parasol. “I feel a million times better than I did when I sat here last night,” she said.
Angie handed her the sandwich. “You did give us quite the fright.”
“I can’t thank you enough.” Mattie took a bite of the delicious food. “I’m not quite up for gallivanting around today, but I thought of taking the bus into Brixham tomorrow. Is the Golden Hind still moored there?”
“It is, and it’s as popular with today’s kids as it was with mine when they were growing up,” said Angie.
Mattie smiled as her own memories flooded her.
The timber ship was a replica of the one that intrepid explorer Sir Francis Drake and his crew had used to sail around the globe more than four hundred years ago.
When she and Simon visited it, they’d pretended to be pirates, played hide and seek below decks, and had learned how to haul and tie ropes.
Knowing that a new generation found the same joy was heartwarming.
Angie went inside to prepare room four for a new set of guests. On her return, she brought a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits.
Mattie chose a ginger nut. “You’re spoiling me again.”
Angie grinned. “Did you find the photo of that landslide you mentioned? It’s been a while since I walked that part of the coast path, and I’m intrigued to see how bad the damage is.”
Mattie flicked back through the photos she’d taken on her phone yesterday. The sea. Rocks. Beaches. More rocks. A heron. “Here it is.” She swiped through the pictures of the landslide, taken from different angles.
Angie sighed as she saw the damage. “The coast all the way along here is vulnerable.”
Mattie swiped to the next photo. It was a picture of her feet clad in her walking boots, but she was standing on a pavement rather than a grassy track.
She must’ve taken that at the site of the fire, when she’d fumbled to ring 999 and inadvertently opened the camera app instead.
She swiped on. There was a blurred picture of a wheelie bin next to a wooden fence.
Another one of the sky and... What the hell? “I need to show this to Nell.”
Angie looked at it and nodded. “I’ll text her on her personal number, if that’ll help.”
“Thank you.” Mattie’s mind raced. Had she inadvertently stumbled upon a vital piece of evidence? It seemed that she and Nell were about to cross paths again. The seriousness of the fire aside, Mattie couldn’t help but feel a frisson of excitement.