Chapter 4
Sally: OMG- you were amazing!
Beth: Not really. It was very childish and I shouldn’t have done it
Sally: Yes you should! That’s exactly what he needed!
Beth: But now I look mad! A deranged woman taking revenge
Sally: And what’s wrong with that? Might make him think twice before he cheats on someone again. Anyway, nobody thinks that
Beth: Really?
Sally: Yes. Everyone is saying you were magnificent and that Matthew deserved it
Beth: I should have just walked away
Sally: Ah- but he was counting on that! I heard that Laura had a right go at him, said he’d promised you wouldn’t kick up a fuss and now she’s been embarrassed. She’s furious!
Beth: Well, every cloud! Hopefully it will have all quietened down when I get back
Sally: Hardly! You’re a legend now honey! Everyone will be talking about this for years to come- lol
Beth was on the train heading for Welby-on-the-Sea, having decided that the quiet tranquillity of the small town was exactly what she needed as her heart recovered from the battering it had received at the hands of Matthew Pettigrew. She sighed deeply as she looked out of the window at the scenery flashing by. Fields and more fields whipped past with the occasional village coming into view, chocolate box houses sitting neatly in colourful cottage gardens. Beth imagined the occupants leading perfect lives beneath perfect thatched roofs in their perfect kitchens. No drama, no shouting, no tipping vases over disappointing partners.
She had felt a moment of absolute exhilaration as she’d watched Matthew’s shocked face peer at her through a river of water, quickly followed by raging remorse as she regretted her lack of control.
‘Have you gone mad?’ he’d shouted, searching for something to dry himself. ‘For God’s sake Beth, I thought we’d agreed to keep any drama out of the office. I told Laura you would be grown up.’
He’d grabbed a tea towel to mop up the water, only to howl in disgust at finding it covered with melted cheese which was now stuck to his hair.
‘Why on earth should I be reasonable,’ Beth had asked furiously. ‘Why on earth would anybody be reasonable when they find their boyfriend of three years is having an affair?’
His mouth had flapped open several times, as though genuinely surprised that she would ask such a question, and then Shirley had arrived, barrelling through the door in search of the fight she had been alerted was taking place in the kitchen.
Beth had been removed, Matthew had been found a clean towel and the occupants of the fourth floor had been told firmly to get back to work. But if Matthew had been expecting Beth to be chastised, he was sorely let down as Shirley gave him a scathing look and then suggested kindly that Beth might benefit from a few weeks’ holiday.
‘Just while you come to terms with everything,’ she had said gently as Beth, anger dissipated and shock beginning to set in, had sat shivering in a chair. ‘I think it would be for the best.’
And suddenly an image of Welby had popped into Beth’s head, the curving beach, the sweeping bay and her Aunt Lizzie’s beach hut sitting on the golden sand and she had agreed with alacrity, leaving the office and dashing home to pack before she had second thoughts, or poured anything else over Matthew’s head.
And now she was on her way. The next stop was Welby-on-the-Sea and for a moment, Beth felt the same tingle of excitement she used to feel every summer when she arrived at the station and would spot Aunt Lizzie on the platform, watching for her niece and waving happily.
This time the platform was empty and Beth dragged her small case down, joining the handful of people heading for Welby. She stuck her head out of the taxi window, breathing in the smell of the sea with her heart racing in anticipation of her first sight of the small town nestled in the curving bay. It was so good to be back!
An hour later, hot, tired and feeling overwhelmed by the crowds, Beth realised that turning up in a small seaside resort in July without having booked a hotel, was very bad planning. Her feet were aching because she had forgotten the majority of the town was still covered in cobbles and not ballerina-flat-friendly, and her head was thumping as she wondered if she was going to be forced to turn around and catch the next train home.
She walked down the High Street, a rather elaborate name for the cobbled lane that led to the harbour, and found a spot to sit on the harbour wall. The sun was high in the sky and the air was full of the salty tang of an outgoing tide. Welby-on-the-Sea was a small place. Actually, it was tiny. Any influx of tourists, whilst welcome, filled the small town in no time at all and surrounding Beth were people strolling along the narrow streets, admiring the craft shops interspersed with the odd café and Welby-on-the-Sea’s very own Italian restaurant. The slipway led to the beach, a golden arc that sat beneath the shelter of the harbour wall and stretched the width of the bay, meeting the small marina which was full of bobbing boats, a mass of bright colours and flapping sails.
Closing her eyes, Beth allowed the peace to flow over her battered senses. This was the spot where she would sit with Aunt Lizzie, an ice cream in hand as they planned their day. They would walk the length of the beach to where the sand disappeared into the base of the cliffs and the rock pools gathered. Or they would go out in Lizzie’s small boat, bobbing about in the bay to drop a fishing line and spend the afternoon watching the waves. Sometimes the rods were left behind and Lizzie would read out loud as Beth lay down in the boat, nothing but a blue sky and scurrying white clouds to distract her from her aunt’s melodious voice.
Welby-on-the-Sea had been Beth’s second home as a child, what a shame she had let it drift away she thought, and with a sigh, she slipped hot feet back into her shoes and looked at her watch. It was already late afternoon. She was hungry, tired and beginning to feel more than a little desperate. If she looked to the right and craned her head, she would be able to see where the strip of beach widened and two rows of beach huts stood, staring proudly out to sea. But she didn't have the keys to Number 4, in her haste to escape there had been no time to collect them from the solicitor. And even if she could go inside, all it would provide was shelter for a few hours. What she needed was a bed for the night, a shower and a cup of tea. And a ham sandwich wouldn’t go amiss.
It had been a foolish thing to do, jump on a train on impulse, she chastised herself. She really should have taken a few days to prepare herself and find a hotel or a Bed the pictures that covered the walls were all painted by Lavinia with differing degrees of success, and the throws draped across the back of every chair had been crocheted by her at various periods over the last twenty years. Flowers and herbs occupied every available space, filling the air with their scent while dried bunches of lavender and rosemary hung from every beam.
Welcome had always fascinated Beth. She had loved visiting Lavinia in her eclectic boarding house where only those who truly appreciated her love of nature were happy to stay. Those wanting a reliable hot shower, a pristine tablecloth and an absence of cats would invariably stay at one of the newer and better presented bed and breakfasts in town.
‘Hello. Oh goodness, is that you Beth?’
Lavinia Adams appeared from the door at the end of the hall which led to her kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron and Beth could detect the scent of lavender which probably meant she was making some of her famous biscuits.
‘Beth, my dear girl! How wonderful to see you, come in, come in,’ and Beth found herself enveloped in a pair of dimpled arms and pressed close to Lavinia’s ample frame.
‘I'm sorry I didn’t get much chance to speak to you at Aunt Lizzie’s funeral,’ Beth began. ‘I’m afraid mother was quite… er quite overcome.’
Lavinia threw her head back and gave a great snort of laughter. ‘Oh, Maureen never changes. Lizzie would have found it hilarious the way she behaved. But you surely didn’t come all this way to apologise?’ She pulled Beth closer for another hug. ‘Although I’m certainly pleased to see you. Now,’ glancing down she saw Beth’s bag. ‘Tell me what this is about, are you staying in Welby tonight?’
It had been a long day and an emotional 24 hours, and the tears arrived in force, rolling down Beth's cheeks and falling onto Lavinia’s arms.
‘I just needed to get away,’ she sniffed. ‘Something happened with Matthew and…well something happened and I couldn’t stay there. And I had a letter from the solicitor saying that Aunt Lizzie had left me the beach hut and suddenly it seemed like a good idea to visit Welby. So, I caught a train but I should have spent more time thinking about it and there’s nowhere to stay and… oh Lavinia, I’m so happy to be back in Welby, so very happy!’ and sobs joined the tears as Beth stood in the cool hallway, her shoulders shaking as Lavinia cooed and tutted and wrapped her warm plump arms around her best friend’s niece.