Just the Beginning

Chapter 2

2

Anya’s brave face held all the way through the long drive back to Halfmoon Quay. Perhaps sensing how close to the edge she was, Chloe hadn’t argued when Anya had insisted on taking the back seat. She and Ryan had chatted quietly to each other, leaving Anya to stare out the window and brood. They’d just turned off the motorway and were waiting at a set of traffic lights when she felt someone’s eyes on her. Turning her head, Anya met Ryan’s gaze via the rear-view mirror.

‘Everything okay back there?’

A small laugh escaped unbidden. ‘Not so much.’

Ryan’s responding chuckle was rueful. ‘Sorry, stupid question. There’s a services here if you want to stop and grab a coffee?’

Anya shook her head. ‘No, I just want to get back h—’ Her voice hitched and she swallowed the rest of the word. Halfmoon Quay meant a lot of things to her, but it had never felt like home. Though she’d always loved her visits over the years, and as much as her cousins had included her in everything, she’d still not truly been one of them. She didn’t have the rock and sand of the village woven into her soul the way those that had lived there all their lives did. ‘To Freya,’ she amended.

‘Sure thing.’

The lights changed and Ryan navigated around the busy roundabout towards the turn-off that would lead them to Halfmoon Quay. Realising she’d been a little short with him, Anya loosened her belt and leaned forward to touch her uncle’s shoulder. ‘I appreciate everything you’re doing for me.’

‘It’s all good, Annie. You just focus on looking after Freya,’ Ryan said, keeping his eyes on the snaking queue of traffic ahead of them.

Chloe half-turned in her seat and smiled at her. ‘You look after Freya, and we’ll look after you.’

Unable to find the words to express her gratitude, Anya nodded then sank back against her seat, her gaze fixed once more on the familiar scenery. She knew every twist and turn of the road, every hill and landmark. There was the church steeple poking over the top of the trees. Here was the junction that always seemed to be a bottleneck whatever time of day or night she passed through it. On the right, the faded peeling paintwork and graffitied boarded windows of a once bustling coaching inn now long since closed down. Next came the long drag up the hill that had seemed to go on forever when she was younger while her tummy bubbled with excitement and she’d stretched and strained in eager anticipation of that first magical glimpse of the glittering silver-blue sea and the grey brooding walls of the castle standing watch on the promontory above the village.

For the first time in her life there was no excitement inside Anya as they crested the hill and the picturesque view of Halfmoon Quay was laid out before her. The only emotion that gripped her insides was fear, accompanied by the never-ending drumbeat of words in her head that had been growing louder with each mile of their journey.

What am I going to do? What am I going to do?

Once they pulled up outside the sprawling whitewashed stone house with its grey slate roof there was no time to think as it was all hands on deck to unload the cars and hump all the boxes down to the end of the garden. Standing in the middle of the open-plan main living space of the summer house, Anya felt that familiar sense of panic rising again as she surveyed their piled-up belongings. Even though she thought she’d cut everything down to the bare minimum it still felt like they’d never find room for everything. Her aunt Helen came over and picked up a box. ‘Why don’t you let us sort this out while you go to Ma and Pa’s and fetch Freya?’

Goodness, that sounded like a wonderful idea, but they’d already done so much for her it felt rude to leave them to sort out her mess – again. ‘Oh, I couldn’t do that.’ She surveyed the stacks of boxes as she bit her lip. ‘I suppose we should unpack the clothes first. Or maybe the kitchen stuff.’ She cringed a little inside hearing the self-doubt in her own voice. She never used to be this indecisive. One of her great joys had been planning and designing the layout of their family home, and the compliments from guests about her eye for style had been a source of pride. Now they were a source of shame, knowing the money she’d spent on all those perfect accessories had been stolen from other people.

Chloe planted her hands on her hips, a steely glint Anya knew well in her eye. ‘Yes, you can. Look, we’ll just find and unpack a few essentials, make the beds up and everything else can go into the garage for now. That way you can take your time setting things up the way you want them over the coming days. ’

Anya hesitated, still conscious of not taking advantage of them. ‘I would like to go and make sure Freya’s okay…’

Her cousin shooed her towards the door with a grin. ‘Off you go then. Mum and I will be fine here, won’t we?’

Helen nodded in agreement. ‘I don’t know why we didn’t think of it in the first place. With Ryan and Matt’s help it won’t take long to move most of this out of the way. We should be sorted by the time you get back with Freya.’

‘Thank you.’ Anya didn’t know how many times those two words had passed her lips today, but it wasn’t enough, could never be enough, to express her gratitude. ‘I won’t be long.’

The walk from her aunt and uncle’s house to the old stone cottage where Amy and Ron Penrose lived wasn’t far, and after hours sitting in the car and then moving boxes she wanted to stretch her legs. Opting for a circuitous route, she headed not towards the castle but instead around the sweep of the crescent-shaped harbour that had given the village its name. There were one or two commercial trawlers moored up at the top of the quay nearest the open water, stacks of lobster pots and tangles of old fishing nets piled up beside them, but the vast majority of the vessels tied up were small pleasure boats. Their white hulls and shiny masts glittered in the sun. The quayside was a hive of activity even this early in the summer season. Most of the people she passed were working on their boats, washing decks or touching up woodwork with pots of varnish that filled her nostrils with a stinging scent when the breeze blew across her face. There were quite a few holidaymakers around, mostly older couples taking advantage of the nice weather before the schools broke up and the village was inundated with sunseekers. Here and there were families with very small children dressed up in bright T-shirts and floppy hats .

The shops and businesses lining the road facing the quay were a mix of traditional and new. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Mr Hawthorn’s newsagents with its rack of buckets, spades and fishing nets waiting to tempt the enthusiastic sandcastle builders and rock poolers. She paused beneath the striped awning, the blue almost bleached out to match the white, to cup her hands and peer through the window. Just as she remembered, the shelves behind the counter were stacked high with plastic jars full of penny sweets. Oh the agonising she, Chloe and Matt had done over what treats to buy with the shiny fifty pence pieces Ma and Pa would present them with. She’d have to bring Freya sometime and introduce her to the fizzy delights of sherbet spaceships and sticky strawberry laces.

Stepping back, she spotted the column of little white cards lining the far side of the window, noting the ‘HELP WANTED’ announcements on a few. She didn’t have time now, but she’d have to come back and check them out because as soon as she’d got Freya settled in, the next thing on the top of her worry list was finding a job. Anything would do, because someone with her lack of both a bank balance and anything resembling a CV couldn’t afford to be fussy. Tomorrow would be soon enough to start looking. Mind made up, she carried on along the road, past the faded glory of the old hotel with its peeling window frames and a pair of straggly hanging baskets framing the entrance door. It had always been the jewel of the seafront and it was sad to see it looking so neglected.

A few doors down, the sleek black paintwork and shining brass fixtures of one of the top-rated restaurants in the county provided an even starker contrast to the poor state of the other buildings, including a boarded-up shop next to it. Anya had vague memories of it being an old-fashioned dress shop, in every sense of the meaning. She’d never been in there, the dowdy frocks draped listlessly on headless display dummies enough to put off the trend-chasing teens she, Chloe and their friend Issy had once been. Thinking about Issy immediately drew her attention across the road to where her friend’s pretty café stood. Like the restaurant, the outside was well-maintained, the collection of tables and chairs out front looking cheerful and welcoming with their little pots of sunny flowers that matched a pair of planters framing the door. A shiny black and white sign declared the extension next to the café as the home of the Halfmoon Quay Community Hub. There’d been talk of it the last time Anya had been down for a visit – goodness, was that really nearly three years ago? She was glad to see Issy and Rick had managed to get it off the ground. Promising herself she’d pop in and catch up with her friend soon, Anya walked to the end of the road and turned left onto the narrow street of old fishermen’s cottages where Ma and Pa lived.

She’d barely lifted her finger off the bell when the front door opened and Ron Penrose greeted her with his familiar broad smile. ‘Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.’

Anya grinned, no offence taken at the greeting, which was part of Pa’s collection of quirky phrases. Leaning forward, she pecked a kiss on his wrinkled cheek. ‘Hello, Pa, how are you?’

‘I’ve got two knackered knees, an acid reflux problem that means my belly’s a volcano. All the hair that used to be on my head has migrated to my nose and ears and my wife says I snore like the brass section of an orchestra. Apart from that, everything’s fine and dandy.’

Anya mock-winced. ‘I’m sorry I asked!’

Ron gave her a cheeky grin before his expression grew serious. ‘I won’t ask how you are, because I already know the answer. If that little shit wasn’t already dead and buried I’d string him up by his guts and let the seagulls feast on him for what he’s put you through.’

For all his once-strong frame was shrunken now, there was a fierce glint in Ron’s eye that told Anya he was deadly serious. Such a bloodthirsty threat probably shouldn’t be so comforting, but Ron had always been blunt and Anya appreciated he hadn’t danced around the topic. ‘God knows he deserved that and more, Pa, but it wouldn’t have been worth the time. He’s gone now and that’s all that matters.’ She placed a hand on his arm. ‘I know everyone is angry about what Drew did but please, don’t say anything in front of Freya, okay? She’s been through enough and she’s too little to understand anything other than the fact her daddy is gone.’

Ron held her gaze for a long moment before nodding once. ‘I’ll not say another word about him.’ He stepped back and gestured. ‘Come on in, girly girl, and have a cuppa. Freya’s in the kitchen with Amy; they’ve been baking.’

‘How has she been?’ Anya asked, keeping her voice low as they headed down the narrow hall to the back of the cottage.

‘As good as gold. It’s been lovely having a little one about the place again, makes me feel less like an old codger. Six grandchildren and not one of them showing so much as a hint of giving us any great-grandchildren to fuss over. Don’t know what they’ve all been wasting their time with.’ Ron shook his head but his wry grin was filled with pride. ‘Any time you want us to look after Freya while you get straight, just say the word.’

‘I appreciate that, Pa, but I’m sure I’ll manage.’ It was kind of him to offer, but she wasn’t about to start abusing their good nature.

Ron stopped in his tracks and frowned at her. ‘Don’t cut your nose off to spite your face, Annie. We wouldn’t offer if we didn’t want to help.’

Anya raised a hand to touch the heated blush on her cheek. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. Everyone’s being so helpful and I don’t want to take advantage.’

Ron pulled her into a hug that still carried the strength of a man who’d worked hard all his life. ‘Nonsense. You’re family – well, as good as.’

He was right. She needed to not let her pride, and her guilt, make life harder than it already was. Anya swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat. ‘Thanks, Pa, that means a lot. I’m going to be busy job hunting, so if I can drop Freya off for an hour or two over the coming days, that would help me out a lot.’

‘Whatever you need,’ Ron assured her as he led her into the kitchen.

The back of the cottage had been extended years ago to create a bright airy kitchen-diner with bifold doors onto the narrow patch of the original cobbled yard that was filled with plant pots. The doors stood open, letting in a soft breeze and easing the heat created by the oven. Wire racks full of rock cakes, butterfly cakes and a square pan of what looked like Anya’s favourite flapjack covered the round dining table, a testament to the morning’s labours. Freya stood on a square red plastic stool that had been drawn up against the kitchen counter, stirring something in a large beige mixing bowl Amy was holding tightly in both hands. The moment she spotted Anya, Freya jumped down from the stool and ran over, still clutching the wooden spoon covered in cake mixture in one little hand. ‘Mummy! Mummy! We’re caking!’

Bending down, Anya scooped her up and propped her on one hip, doing her best to avoid the sticky spoon as she pressed a kiss to Freya’s flour-covered cheek. ‘So I see, darling. Have you had a good time?’

Freya nodded. ‘Ma and Pa are fun! Pa said he’ll take me to the beach tomorrow. Can I go, Mummy?’

Anya nodded. ‘If you like, but you’ll have to promise to be a good girl and listen to exactly what Ma and Pa say, okay?’

‘Okay!’ Freya flung her arms around Anya’s neck. The urge to clutch her little girl tight was overwhelming for a second, but Anya made herself give Freya a quick hug before setting her back down. ‘Come on then, show me what you’ve been making.’

They joined Amy back over by the counter while Ron made himself busy filling the kettle.

‘Hello, love.’ Amy leaned over and kissed Anya on the cheek before turning her attention to Freya. ‘I think we’re ready to spoon this mixture out, don’t you?’

Anya leaned back against the counter, content to watch the pair of them fill the little paper cupcake liners. Freya got more on herself than in the cups, but Amy showed remarkable patience, rescuing the mess with a pallet knife and deftly filling the liners, all the while keeping up a merry stream of encouragement and praise. By the time they’d finished and Freya was over at the sink where Ron helped her to wash her hands, the little girl was glowing with happiness.

A soft touch on her hand drew Anya’s gaze from her daughter to Amy’s kind, concerned smile.

‘Everything all right?’

Not sure she could go through it all again, Anya wrinkled her nose.

Amy patted her hand. ‘You’ll get there.’

Standing up straighter, Anya nodded. ‘I will. I’m going to start job hunting tomorrow. Ron said the two of you wouldn’t mind watching Freya for me? ’

‘Of course we don’t mind, she’s an absolute delight. We’ll have her any time you like. In fact, why don’t we have her every morning for the whole week?’ she offered. ‘It’ll be better for Freya to have a routine and it’d also give you a decent bit of time to settle in and look around for something.’

It felt like too much, but the sooner Anya got things sorted, the better. ‘If you’re sure you don’t mind?’

‘Not a bit of it. It’ll be our pleasure, won’t it, Ron?’ Amy called to her husband.

‘What’s that?’

‘I was just saying to Anya we’d be happy to have Freya every morning for the coming week, to help her out.’

Ron’s face lit up like he’d been offered a treat, not been roped into a full-time babysitting gig. ‘Sounds good to me.’ He glanced down at Freya. ‘How about you, chicken? You want to spend lots of time with me and Ma next week?’

‘Yes please!’ Freya jumped up and down.

Ron beamed down at her. ‘Well, looks like that’s sorted. Now then, why don’t we sample some of these lovely-looking cakes before your mummy takes you home?’

They returned home later than she’d been expecting, but Ma and Pa had been so lovely and time had quite run away with them all. Even after the gorgeous spread Ma had laid on for them, Anya hadn’t been able to leave without a large Tupperware box full of cake. Worried about leaving the unpacking for so long, Anya walked as quickly as she could. Freya skipped along at her side, chattering away a mile a minute.

Ryan greeted them at the front door with a smile that widened considerably when Anya handed him the box. ‘What have we got here?’

‘Your mum and Freya have had a busy day baking lots of treats. ’

‘That sounds like the perfect excuse to put the kettle on.’

Anya smiled as she shook her head. ‘You go ahead; we’re already full of tea and cake. I’m sorry we took so long. I think I’ll just get Freya ready for bed and sort the rest out in the morning.’

Ryan waved them through the house towards the back patio doors. ‘Don’t worry about it. We’ve moved all the boxes out the way and Helen and Chloe are just adding the last touches. I think you’ll like what they’ve done.’

For the first time in months Anya felt her spirits lift. Taking Freya’s hand, she led her across the garden just in time to meet her aunt and cousin, who were coming out of the summer house.

‘Perfect timing!’ Chloe said by way of greeting.

‘Uncle Ryan tells me you’ve been busy.’ Anya raised an eyebrow. ‘What have you been up to?’

‘You can see for yourself.’ Chloe pushed the left-hand side of the double doors open. ‘Welcome to your new home.’

Tears burned hot and sudden as Anya stepped inside and was greeted with a miracle. It was impossible to believe she was standing in the same place that had been a chaotic mess only a couple of hours earlier. The three-seater sofa Chloe had scavenged from a second-hand shop had been dressed with a soft cotton throw and plump cushions. A large pillar candle burned in the centre of the coffee table her cousin had bought for a few pounds through an online selling site. Familiar things from Anya’s kitchen sat ready and waiting on the counter of the little kitchen area. A gauzy curtain covered in pretty flowers now hung at the end of the room, hiding the glass-panelled door that led to the bedroom area.

At the opposite end of the room the little chair and table from Freya’s room sat in the middle of a pale pink fluffy rug, and a box of toys and a miniature bookcase filled with all her daughter’s favourite books stood against the wall. A framed photo of the two of them sat on top of the bookcase, a smaller one of Drew tucked next to it. ‘It’s beautiful,’ Anya murmured.

Her aunt put an arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze. ‘It’s enough to get you started,’ Helen said. ‘You can move things around as you want.’

Anya shook her head. ‘No, it’s perfect as it is.’ She turned into her aunt’s hold. ‘Thank you.’ She had to press her eyes tightly closed to stop the threatening tears from falling.

Behind them she heard Chloe asking Freya if she wanted to see the bedroom. Anya turned to watch her cousin slide back the curtain and push the door open before leading Freya by the hand into the other room. Her curiosity was piqued when she heard Freya squeal in delight, and Anya hurried over. She felt like squealing herself when she saw the bedroom. A single bed dressed with a quilt covered in Disney princesses had been pushed into the corner on the left-hand side. Fairy lights had been twined around the white headboard, and some of the pictures from Freya’s old room had already been hung on the wall.

Freya was splayed on her back on the bed, waving her arms and legs. ‘I’ve got a big girl bed!’

‘That’s because you’re a big girl now!’ Anya lay down beside her and pulled her into a hug. ‘What do you think? Do you like your new room?’

‘I love it.’ Freya snuggled in next to her. ‘And I like that I get to share it with you.’

Anya glanced across to where a small double bed had been tucked against the wall in the opposite corner. Unlike the bright cover beneath them, her bed had been dressed in cool tones of beige and white. With the wardrobe and a large chest of drawers, there wasn’t a lot of floor space left but it was a miracle they’d managed this much. She reached out her hand to Chloe. ‘You are amazing.’

Chloe’s cheeks glowed pink. ‘It’s not much really, we just wanted to make you feel welcome.’

‘You’ve done that and so much more.’