Chapter 12
When the water was running clean once more and the straw and debris removed from her hair, Beth finally stepped out of the shower and pulled on some clean clothes.
Tempted to remain in her room where there was no risk of another encounter with Jake Balfour, she spent several minutes gazing out of the window at the one solitary puffy white cloud that had the sky to itself and was floating lazily around. In the distance, she could see the tips of white waves rolling into the bay and the gentle sounds of people chattering in the distance.
Eventually, she slipped her feet into a pair of flip-flops, not quite as elegant as Jemima’s, and went in search of Lavinia. She wouldn’t be imprisoned in her room by the thought of Jake’s mocking eyes or the disdainful twist to his lips.
Following the smell of lavender and thyme, she found Lavinia in the kitchen, the soft sound of the radio in the background. The back door was open and Beth could see into the small courtyard garden beyond, bound on every side by ancient stone walls, overflowing with herbs and flowers and clouded in a soft scent that took Beth straight back to the summers of her youth.
There was always something baking in Lavinia’s kitchen. Fresh bread would be sitting on the table, flavoured with rosemary or fennel; biscuits would be gathered on plates, seasoned with lavender or mint. Jars of herbs sat on the shelves above the small-paned window and everything Lavinia did contained a sprinkle of this and a dash of that. It was one of the most welcoming kitchens Beth had ever known.
Another plate of biscuits lay on the table, fresh from the oven and Beth leaned in greedily, not waiting to be asked if she would like to test one.
Lavinia poured them both some homemade iced tea and sat down next to Beth, tutting at a long scratch on her arm.
‘I’ll give you some dandelion salve before you go back upstairs. Make sure you rub plenty on before you go to bed.’
Nodding, Beth took another biscuit. She was far too tired to argue.
‘How did it go?’ asked Lavinia, watching Beth approvingly as she began nibbling on her third biscuit.
Beth’s appetite disappeared.
‘Not very well,’ she sighed. ‘To be honest, I think I’ve taken on more than I can handle. Jake certainly thinks so,’ she added with a disparaging sniff. ‘He seems to think I’m useless!’
‘I’m sure he doesn't.’
‘I'm sure he does. But it’s okay because I find him quite objectionable. And rude.’
‘Oh, take no notice,’ tutted Lavinia, shaking her head. ‘Jake’s not himself at the moment, don't let yourself be upset by anything he may say.’
She topped up their glasses and Beth waited for Lavinia to elaborate. When she didn’t, Beth couldn’t help herself.
‘What’s wrong with him?’
She hoped she’d injected just the right amount of disinterest into her voice.
‘Oh, you know,’ said Lavinia, testing one of her biscuits and nodding. ‘Mm, these are good. And I’ve just brought in plenty of chamomile from the garden, I’ll make you a nice cup of chamomile and lavender tea before you go to bed. It will help you sleep. Although all that fresh air and an afternoon of hard work will help as well. Maybe we’ll get rid of some of those circles under your eyes.’
Beth was exhausted and didn’t feel as though she would have any difficulty sleeping even without the aid of chamomile tea. Especially with the window open and the sound of the waves hitting the harbour wall.
‘So, Jake,’ she persisted gently. ‘Why isn’t he himself?’
Brushing biscuit crumbs from her hands, Lavinia settled in her seat, her plump frame relaxing in the herb-filled kitchen.
‘For the same reason as you, my darling. I’m afraid the course of true love is as equally bumpy for Jake at the moment.’
Beth had hated Jake prying into her business, asking what had happened between herself and Matthew. She had felt it to be rude and insensitive. But there again, sometimes the only way to find out anything was by asking.
‘What happened?’ she asked, wide-eyed.
Lavinia’s mouth pursed with disapproval. ‘That minx, Portia. Behaved very badly from what I can gather. Quite broke Jake’s heart.’
Beth hated that she needed to know more.
‘Is Portia his girlfriend? What did she do?’
‘She is his fiancée. Or was. Maybe she still is, I’m not altogether sure. It seems to depend on who you ask.’
‘And what did she do?’ asked Beth almost bubbling over with impatience.
Lavinia’s lips pursed even further together as she patted her apron. ‘Had a fling with one of Jake’s friends,’ she whispered, shaking her head. ‘While Jake was in Scotland working. Of course, she blamed it all on the friend and insists she’s still madly in love with Jake.’
Beth winced. Much as she hated to feel any empathy with the infuriating man, she knew exactly how he must be feeling; hurt, betrayed, unsure what direction his life was taking any more. Not that it made his behaviour acceptable, Beth reminded herself hastily before she started to feel too sorry for him.
‘He’s staying here for a while because she’s refusing to move out of their house. Says she wants them to try again. He’s too soft-hearted to throw her out, or maybe he does want them to get back together, I’m not too sure. But he won’t move back home, not while she’s still there. And after he’d worked so hard on that place too. Made it lovely he did, he deserves to be able to live in it,’ added Lavinia indignantly.
‘What place?’
‘Old Tom’s cottage, at the end of the lane.’
Beth cast her mind back to the many summers spent in Welby and knew the house in question. It was a fisherman’s cottage, the last house on the cobbled lane before the town faded into the beach.
Tom, an ancient fisherman, used to sit outside his front door in an equally ancient rocking chair and gaze out to sea every day, nodding a greeting to anyone who walked by. Beth had been wary of him, with his straggly beard and the pipe sticking permanently from his mouth, his gnarled hands resting in his lap. But then Aunt Lizzie told her that his only son had drowned many years before and his wife had died soon after, many believed of a broken heart. Tom remained in his cottage by the sea with only his memories to comfort him and the next time Beth had walked past, he hadn’t seemed so scary, just sad and alone.
And now it belonged to Jake. And Portia.
‘You should ask Jake about renovating Lizzie’s hut,’ advised Lavinia, getting up from her chair and her gossip. ‘He’ll be able to tell you exactly what needs doing. I know he offered to sort it out for Lizzie more than once, but she was far too independent to let anyone do anything for her that she thought she could do herself. Although even she had to give in and let him help with the odd thing towards the end.’
The very thought of asking Jake for help made Beth wince. But so did the thought of the labour ahead of her.
‘I think I may have misjudged the amount of work needed,’ she confessed to Lavinia. ‘I haven’t a clue what I’m doing and I know everybody is just waiting for me to make a fool of myself.’
Maybe that was a slight exaggeration. Jemima and Jake most definitely were waiting for the moment Beth fell flat on her face, everybody else she encountered in Welby seemed perfectly pleasant.
‘Why did you decide to keep the hut?’ asked Lavinia softly.
‘Because I loved every minute I spent in Number 4. And I loved Aunt Lizzie. She left me the hut for a reason and it wasn’t so I could sell it and walk away, she knew I wouldn’t do that.’ Beth had to save Number 4 from being taken over by Jemima Carrington-Smythe and becoming a cabana. For Aunt Lizzie’s sake. ‘So now I’ve got to prove I’m worthy. The thing is, I’m not sure I am,’ confessed Beth. ‘I’m trying my best, I’m just not sure it’s good enough.’
‘Then you are doing this for all the right reasons and you can’t worry about what anybody else might say or think,’ said Lavinia in a firm voice. ‘Lizzie never did. Heavens, when she announced she was going to travel around India for six months, your mother actually fainted. She told Lizzie that she would bring shame on the family with her wanderings and that it was an un-ladylike thing to do.’
Lavinia laughed even as a tear rolled down her face and she wiped her eyes with a tissue she found burrowed up her sleeve. ‘It made Lizzie even more determined to go,’ she said softly. ‘Anybody telling Lizzie she couldn’t do anything was like a red rag to a bull. Part of the reason she trekked across the Andes was because a man told her it wasn’t possible for a woman to make such a trip.’
Beth remained silent, watching Lavinia’s face fill with emotion for her old friend and her eyes drift to a time far, far away until she sighed and returned to her kitchen and Welby-on-the-Sea.
‘You mustn’t listen to anyone but yourself, Beth darling. If you want to rescue the hut then you should but do it because it’s what you want, not because of anything anybody else might tell you. And if it’s too much for you, then walk away. Don’t look back and don’t care about what anybody might say.’
Lavinia was leaning across the table, her hand resting on Beth’s own and her eyes shining brightly. ‘Follow Lizzie’s lead and believe in yourself.’
And then the lecture was over and a cup of chamomile tea was produced along with some salve for Beth’s arm. Leaving the kitchen, Beth began to walk towards the stairs only to come face to face with her nemesis, standing still and silent a few paces from the kitchen door.
How much had he heard, she wondered? Had he stood there listening to their gossip about his fiancée? Neither said anything and for a long moment, they simply stood, facing each other in the dim light of the hallway before he stood silently to one side, allowing Beth to pass.
Walking as quickly as she could before he took her to task, Beth managed to reach her bedroom without spilling her tea and curled up on the bed. Leaving the curtains open, she watched the sky become darker and darker until she couldn’t make out anything beyond the harbour wall and simply listened to the soothing sound of the waves until she drifted slowly to sleep.
*
The following morning, she braced herself for another encounter with the surly Jake as she stepped onto the balcony and squinted against the morning sun. She really must get some sunglasses, and not just because of the bright light, she decided, finding Jake already sitting at the table.
Pausing, she wondered if she should sit at the smaller table at the back of the balcony. But that was admitting defeat and they would both know he had won so tilting her chin, she pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down, sending him a surly glare in place of a greeting.
Toast was already on the table along with a pot of tea.
‘The tea will still be hot,’ he offered. ‘It’s not been there long.’
Beth nodded stiffly, concentrating on pouring herself a cup.
He passed her the jug of milk. ‘I saved you some,’ he informed her solemnly.
Taking the jug, Beth added some to her cup and placed it carefully back in the centre of the table, then turned her head so all she could see was the harbour and the blue sky, and nothing of the man opposite her.
A sigh drifted across the table and Jake leaned closer to her, his chin resting on steepled fingers.
‘I owe you an apology.’
Beth turned in surprise. It was not what she had been expecting.
‘An apology?’ she clarified warily.
The more she had thought about the previous evening the more she had convinced herself that he must have heard her pressing Lavinia for all his secrets.
‘Yes.’ Having caught her attention, he sat back in his chair. ‘I heard your conversation with Lavinia last night.’
Oh dear. Colour crept up Beth’s neck.
‘I heard you say how you were doing up the hut for Lizzie, how much you’d loved her.’
Ah, maybe she was safe after all.
‘And how there are people waiting for you to fail.’
Beth sat very still.
‘And I knew I was one of those people.’ He frowned, ‘Although I’m not sure who else in Welby-on-the-Sea has been giving you a hard time. But Lavinia was right, you shouldn’t pay any attention to me. You’re doing the right thing, for you and for your aunt.’
The colour flooded Beth’s cheeks and she was surprised to find herself a little breathless.
‘That’s okay,’ she stammered. ‘I don’t …’
‘It’s not okay. I was unnecessarily hard on you.’
The sunglasses came off and he stared at Beth, stormy green eyes meeting nervous blue ones.
‘I have a … a few things going on in my life at the moment,’ he admitted, one hand rubbing at his chin and covering the dimple.
If Beth went any pinker,
she would look as though she were having sunstroke.
‘Oh?’ she squeaked.
‘Yes. I was in a bad mood and I took it out on you.’
Taking a sip of tea as a distraction, Beth almost dropped her cup as he continued.
‘But I apologise. I hope you manage to get the hut sorted, for Lizzie,’ and back on went the glasses as Beth fanned her face and wondered if she were still actually in her soft, comfortable bed dreaming of what the day may bring.