Chapter Three
CHAPTER THREE
Breakfast the following morning was non-existent. And it would have to remain that way until the food delivery Eden had ordered the day before arrived. She’d slept well enough, the rhythmic booming of the waves against the cliffs morphing into a comforting white noise as she’d dropped off. The sound of the gulls at dawn was a different matter. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have suspected some kind of conspiracy to wake her with the sunrise, so insistent were their cries. Once she was awake, she decided she might as well be up and ready for the day, even if that meant having to wait for her breakfast to arrive.
The taps in the bathroom were inexplicably the wrong way round on the bathroom sink, so the cold was where the hot ought to be and vice versa. She supposed that would take some getting used to; thankfully the boiler wasn’t efficient enough to produce water that would scald her when she got it wrong.
At least she had coffee in the kitchen cupboards – perhaps left by a previous guest – and though there was no milk, she didn’t mind drinking it black. It would wake her properly if nothing else, and she only had to wait a couple of hours for her online shop to arrive.
It was quickly becoming apparent to Eden how impractical life at Four Winds Cottage was going to be. While the beautiful, windswept and romantically remote location was everything she needed right now, for everyday considerations like getting deliveries and shopping up there, the spot was less than ideal. Her first taste of this was a phone call from the driver who was meant to be bringing her online delivery, who – like the taxi driver the day before – had refused to take his van down the path right to the house.
It was also becoming apparent, by virtue of this inconvenience, why the cottage had been the only one on the rental site. It was likely that the more accessible ones had been taken already, leaving only the remote and difficult Four Winds for a last-minute request such as the one Eden had made. Anyone with any sense would have rented something in the main village or down at the foot of the cliffs rather than on a windswept perch that might look like something out of Poldark but was about as well serviced as any home from that century would have been too.
On a more positive note, the weather was doing its best to be on her side. This June day was as glorious as the one before. Much as she needed to sit down and plan how she was going to make the next six months work, having quit her job at a property development company and sold just about everything she owned to come here, she decided it would wait. The beach, the balm for her soul, was calling. And then maybe she’d take a walk into the town to see if that was still as comfortingly familiar as the clifftops had been on her arrival the day before. She recalled the ice-cream parlour that had been a favourite – not even a parlour so much as a window opening on to the street with a jumbled collection of old tables and chairs outside.
‘There! There it is!’ Ten-year-old Eden bounced up and down as the parlour came into view, candy-striped awning shading painted wooden furniture, families filling every table as they sat in the sun with their banana splits or knickerbocker glories or tubs with mini mountains of different coloured ice cream. It was the first holiday she could recall where Caitlin wasn’t with them, but she was twenty now and preferred to escape to some Spanish costa with friends than join her parents and little sister in a British seaside resort. Eden had loved being the only child that week and all the attention that had come with it. ‘Can we get one?’
‘Eden, wait, we have to ? —’
‘Please! Please, Dad! Can we get one now? It will be closed when we come back!’
‘It’s not going to close in the next half hour. I promise we’ll come back just as soon as we’ve had lunch.’
‘I’m not hungry.’
Eden’s mum had let out the most beautiful laugh at this. Years later, it would still play in Eden’s mind when she thought of the moment, like a tape recording. ‘You’re not hungry? Then you can’t want ice cream.’
‘It’s different,’ Eden pouted.
‘Is it?’ her dad asked wryly.
‘I promise to eat my dinner.’
Eden’s mum shared a look with her dad, and at that moment Eden knew she’d won.
‘All right,’ he sighed. ‘I suppose we’re on holiday, after all. To hell with it – who needs nutrition anyway? Let’s all get ice cream for lunch.’
Trips to the ice-cream parlour had invariably been followed by a visit to the shop that sold beach toys, or, as she grew older, the souvenir shop that sold bead necklaces and bracelets and seaside-themed trinkets. She recalled now a fish and chip shop that her dad was fond of, and the pub where she’d sat in the beer garden with her mum and sister, a bottle of pop with a straw bobbing about in it on the table in front of her, while her dad went and rubbed shoulders with the locals inside. Her dad would talk to anyone – still would, even now – and the thought of him sitting at home, lonely and bereft without her mum, forced the ever-threatening knot of emotion up into her throat again.
Part of her longed to call him to see if he was OK, but she was the last person he needed or wanted. Caitlin would be there for him, and her support would be far more welcome than Eden’s was. Caitlin always knew what to do and what to say, while Eden always managed to put her foot in it. At her mum’s funeral, people had marvelled at the job Caitlin had done organising everything and consoling their dad; she’d heard them remarking how well Caitlin would take care of him.
You’ve always been spoiled.
Caitlin’s words that afternoon had replayed in Eden’s head almost every day since.
Never accepted a minute of responsibility in your life. Always had everyone dancing to your tune, always wanting more and more, no matter how much you’ve got.
And so on. Eden had heard it all before, of course. She’d often found it funny, funnier the angrier Caitlin got, which enraged her sister even more. When Eden was little, Caitlin had indulged her too, just as their parents had, and perhaps that was partly why Caitlin couldn’t stand it now, conscious on some level of her part in the ruining of her little sister.
Not that Eden thought for a minute what she herself had become was anyone’s fault but her own. Her family may have reinforced her sense of entitlement, but in the end, she had to accept responsibility for it. It had taken twenty-seven years, but finally, she had. Too late for her mum, too late to rebuild their destroyed family, so what was she meant to do with this revelation now?
She spent an hour on the beach, as soothing today as it had been the day before. There was no sign of Livia, Nancy and Levi, and Eden was oddly disappointed by that. What she did enjoy was the notion that there was no pressure to spend all her time here thinking that she had to squeeze every drop out of it because she’d be going home in a few days. This – for all intents and purposes – was home, for the next six months, and so she had all the time in the world to sit in this spot and no desperate rush to cram those moments in.
Then she got up and brushed herself down, and by the time she’d walked to the town with its cluster of shops and houses crowding the curve of the bay, she was hungry and thirsty.
The chip shop was more or less as she remembered it, but she hadn’t for a minute expected the chips to be as good as she’d recalled. They were, however, and as she ate them, she was tempted to phone her dad, just to tell him so. Perhaps she would, she promised herself, instantly realising that she’d have to drum up the courage first and doubting she’d be able to. She wanted to. Perhaps that was a good enough start.
After her chips, she had just enough room for ice cream. She was hopeful as she made her way over to the window that this wouldn’t have changed either. Sure enough, it looked exactly the same: the ramshackle collection of tables and chairs out on the pavement, the silver freezers lined up, the pink and blue stripes of the sign over the hatch. The sight encouraged her to hope that the ice cream might be the same too. There was a queue – which was also encouraging because that invariably meant people knew it would be worth queuing for. When it came to her turn, she looked up from counting the coins in her purse and stared straight into the face of the woman she’d met on the beach the day before.
‘Hello!’ Livia said brightly. ‘Having a good day? What’ll it be?’
‘Oh, er…hi. I didn’t know you worked here…’
‘Well, you wouldn’t, I expect. I never said so.’
‘Oh God…’ Eden flushed. ‘That’s such a stupid thing to say.’
Livia smiled. ‘Aww don’t worry about it. It’s the sort of daft thing I say all the time so you’re not alone. What would you like?’
‘Um, do you still do that sour cherry one you used to have? I mean, I used to have a sour cherry thing in a chocolate-coated cone when I’d come here years ago.’
‘Oh yes, we still do that. While Mum’s in charge we’ll never change the flavours!’
‘So your mum owns this place?’
‘Dad used to run it, but he died earlier this year, so it’s just me and Mum keeping things ticking over.’
‘He died? I’m sorry to?—’
‘Thank you,’ Livia said. ‘I expect Dad would have served you if you came here…how long ago?’
‘About thirteen years ago, if not more.’
‘God, yes, it would have been Dad. Me and Zoe – my sister – used to help him a bit on weekends back then, but I think we probably made things worse rather than better.’
‘Does your sister still work here?’
At this Livia’s open and warm expression seemed to darken. ‘No,’ she said, the sparkle gone from her voice too. ‘Not now. It’s just me and Mum. I expect Levi and Nancy will want to get involved when they’re old enough, but that’s a few years off yet.’
‘Oh, I see.’
Eden fell to silence as she watched Livia put together her order and wondered what had happened to make her suddenly so obviously sad. Was she like Eden? Was there some tragedy she was struggling to come to terms with? Livia had mentioned losing her father – was it even more than that?
Eden handed her a note, and Livia got her change while Eden licked at the ice cream. This was exactly as she remembered, and it was all she could do not to sigh with happiness.
‘That’s stunning,’ she said, bringing Livia’s warm smile back.
‘Glad to hear it.’
Eden moved away from the window to allow the next customer to order and took a seat on one of the chairs arranged in front of it. She wanted to talk to Livia some more, but it looked as if she’d have to wait until the queue died down. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but something about her felt right, as if she was a kindred spirit, and she wanted to know more about this woman who seemed to be able to light up a room as soon as she walked into it. The long chestnut hair that had streamed behind her in the wind of the beach the day before was tied up in a ponytail today, and though her face was round, it was freckled and pretty, and her smile was infectious. Eden somehow knew, without having to know anything about her, that she was kind and generous and a good person to have around.
As quickly as the queue shortened, it lengthened again as new customers joined. The tourist season was in full swing, and Eden supposed it was like this all the time for the ice-cream parlour. When her ice cream was finished and she had no need to take up a seat, she wondered whether she ought to leave Livia to it. She looked busy, and Eden didn’t want to come across as her new best stalker. But there was some irresistible pull, something that made her want to stay, like being in her orbit somehow promised some kind of healing. It was difficult to explain, even more difficult to understand, and yet Eden felt it.
Forty minutes passed in this way, Eden losing patience each time she spied an upcoming opportunity to talk to Livia again, only to see new customers join the queue. Eventually she decided to leave. Perhaps it would be calmer later in the afternoon, though looking at the weather, she doubted it. People would be milling around the pretty bay and its town well into the evening, no doubt.
Just as Eden was getting up, an older woman who was unmistakably related to Livia appeared at the counter. Eden racked her brain. The woman seemed familiar – maybe she’d served them once on one of Eden’s childhood visits. It seemed reasonable to assume as Livia had told Eden the parlour had been in the family for years. They had a few words, and then Livia took off her apron and emerged from a door at the side of the building with a cold drink. As she looked up, she caught Eden’s eye and smiled.
‘Still here?’ she asked, making her way over. ‘Thinking about getting seconds?’
‘I would,’ Eden said. ‘It was so good, but I’d regret it later.’
‘I don’t think you should ever regret something that makes you happy. There aren’t enough of those things in life – grab the ones that come to you, that’s what I say.’
‘If that’s a pitch to sell more ice cream, you ought to copyright it.’
Livia laughed gently and then sucked on the straw in her drink.
‘Are you finished for the day?’ Eden asked.
‘God, no! Mum’s just come to take over for a bit so I can have a break.’
‘Must be hard to run this place, just you two, I mean.’
‘It keeps us busy, but we don’t mind. After all, it’s only really this busy for a few months of the year, and the rest of the time it’s far quieter. We do the work now so we can bank the money and survive the winter – that’s how a lot of places round here manage.’ She sat down on a chair at the table Eden had just vacated. ‘Got something nice planned for today?’
‘Not really…’
Eden wondered whether Livia would mind if she sat down again to join her or whether it would interrupt some well-earned downtime. But then Livia took the question out of the air and answered it for her.
‘You don’t have to leave on my account. Sit down if you like. How are you settling in at Four Winds?’
‘Well, I’ve got some food in now, so that’s a start.’
‘Sounds like a very good start to me. Have you come across the old beehives in the garden yet?’
‘Oh, the lady who owns the house now said there had been bees, but they’re not there now, and neither are the hives…at least, I don’t think so. Quite honestly, I haven’t thought to look. Maybe I should.’
‘The hives were still there last time I was there, but that was a few years ago. I don’t suppose they are now. The new owners probably got rid of those and the chicken coops if they didn’t need them.’
‘It’s a shame. I might have been a bit scared of the bees, but the idea is kind of cute. I definitely would have been excited to have chickens in the garden.’
Livia nodded. ‘The bees used to fascinate me. I used to watch my great-uncle doing all his bits through the window. I’d have got stuck in, but he never wanted me to get stung, and he didn’t have a suit that would fit me back then.’ She took a sip of her drink, her eyes somewhere far away. ‘Often thought I might get some hives of my own once I got my own house…’ She shook herself. ‘Like that’s ever going to happen.’
‘You live with your mum?’
‘Yes. Me and the kids and Mum, we all live together. I mean, it’s nice, but…anyway, you don’t need to hear about all that.’
‘You have a partner?’
‘Not now. You?’
‘No. So we’re both single.’
‘Two women in the prime of our lives with no partners – where did we go wrong, eh?’
Eden knew exactly where she’d gone wrong, but she wasn’t about to tell Livia. The more she talked to her, the more she wanted to be her friend, and telling her about the events that had sent her running to Sea Glass Bay was not going to make anyone want to be her friend.
‘Listen…’ Livia sucked up the last of her drink before putting the glass on the table and smiling at Eden. ‘If you’re at a loose end later, you could come up to the Darling Dolphin…the local pub. It’s a good night in there – would get you out of the cottage for a few hours.’
‘You’ll be in there?’
‘Oh, I’m there most nights.’
‘I don’t…I wouldn’t want to crash…I’m sure you’ll be having a laugh with your friends, and I wouldn’t want to muscle in…’
‘Oh no, it won’t be like that. I work there. I’ve always got time to chat in between serving customers, though.’
‘You work there as well?’
‘From time to time when Ralph gets busy. Ralph’s the landlord. It helps him out, and the money helps us and I like it. More like a social thing than a job really.’
‘Yes, but you must be exhausted doing a full day here and then going to work there.’
‘It’s a long day, but it’s not all the time. Ralph’s the same as us – far busier in the summer than the winter – mostly locals in the winter, and there aren’t so many of us once all the second-home owners and tourists go. I don’t mind – like I said, we get the money in where we can. You’ve got to round here; it’s the only way to survive for a lot of people.’
‘I feel lazy now.’
‘You have a job, though?’
‘Not at the moment. I mean, I did, I had…well, I’m taking some time out so I can be here. I was hoping to get something to do here. Just need to get myself organised.’
‘Oh, well, if you wanted something just here and there, I bet Ralph would snap your hand off. I know it’s a bit menial and you probably don’t?—’
‘It’d be nice. The job I’ve just left was really stressful, and mostly I was miserable there, so actually I think it would be nice to do something more…’
Mindless , Eden thought, something where she could just switch off and forget who she was and why she was here, a chance to reinvent herself. But she wasn’t sure saying all this was a good idea.
‘I mean,’ she continued, ‘I do have a bit of money saved, but I think that will probably get used up on the cottage…well, the point is that I don’t think it would be a good idea to rely on savings all the time. I probably ought to think about earning some money – six months is a long time to keep dipping into that pot.’
‘Sounds sensible to me. I’ll put a word in with Ralph if you like. If you come up later, you could talk to him yourself and see what you think. He’s lovely to work for, and the regulars are great. You’d be surprised what a good night you can have just working.’
While Eden was grateful, she was confused. Livia didn’t know the first thing about her – why would she want to help like this? Why would she put in a word at the pub for a woman she’d only met the day before? It was lovely, but in the fast-paced, stressful job for a high-end property developer that Eden had just left, someone like Livia would have been eaten alive. She didn’t know whether to be charmed by her trust and openness or alarmed. But in the spirit of embracing her new start, she decided not to let it worry her. If everyone in Sea Glass Bay was going to be this welcoming, perhaps the happiness she was craving was in reach. And even if it wasn’t, she’d be surrounded by nice people, and perhaps that in itself would be enough.
‘What time should I be there?’
Livia stood and scooped up her glass. ‘Um…I don’t know. Whenever you feel like it. If you want to talk to Ralph about work, I’d say earlier is better, before he gets busy. But if you’re just wanting a few drinks, then come whenever you like.’
‘I will, thank you. And I think I would like to see Ralph about some work – as long as he can cope with an incompetent out-of-towner. I’ve never worked a bar before.’
‘You’ll soon pick it up. The regulars will lecture you on how to pull their pints so you won’t have much choice!’ She laughed lightly. ‘I’ll tell him you’ll be coming. What’s your name, by the way, I don’t think…’
‘Eden. Eden Sherwood.’
‘Oh, like Robin Hood. I’ll definitely remember that! See you later then, Eden.’
As Livia went back to the parlour, Eden watched as Livia’s mum gestured at Eden and seemed to be asking Livia about her. Why did she suddenly feel anxious again? Like somehow the older, more experienced woman would see right through Eden in an instant, would see exactly who she was, would catch her out as someone with a black secret who shouldn’t be trusted. But as she watched, Livia looked across and gave her a bright smile, so warm, so genuine, that suddenly Eden didn’t want to be that person with that past. For a taste of this new friendship, this new start, for the trust Livia seemed to be placing in her already, she was going to do her best to be worthy of it.