Chapter 23
The meal was lovely, the setting glorious and the sight of Sam and Lavinia rediscovering the feelings they’d had for each other 50 years previously was heart-warming; but Beth was relieved when she was able to leave the table and return to her room in the eaves.
Sitting on the window seat, she listened to the sound of the waves and sighed. It was all Sarah’s fault. Beth had spent the day allowing herself to believe maybe Jake wasn't quite so irritated by her presence as she had previously thought. That maybe, just maybe there was a flicker of interest behind his eyes
But it was all too little too late because Jake had clearly taken Sam’s advice to not let love slip through his fingers. He and Portia were back together and that left Beth with a new friend and nothing more. It had been a mistake to listen to Sarah and an even bigger mistake to let herself even consider the prospect of Jake in her life. She had said she didn't need a man, especially so soon after Matthew, and then she had allowed Jake to creep under her skin and into her heart. Yes, it was all Sarah’s fault and with a sigh, Beth climbed into bed and let the waves lull her to sleep.
The next morning, Beth wandered onto the terrace, for once hoping that Jake would be there. But there was no sign of him. He was probably back in his cottage, waking up beside Portia and grateful that his life was back on track, decided Beth, and she was left to eat her breakfast alone, nibbling absently on her bacon as she gazed out to sea pondering on the mysteries of life and love.
Leaving thoughts of Jake behind, she spent the day with Sarah applying paint liberally to Number 4, until it shone with a pale pink glow, even if it was still patchy and in need of a second coat. Aunt Lizzie had never been one to worry about straight edges or dribbles and whenever Beth had helped her paint, it had always been an afternoon of fun followed by an ice cream. Today was more intense and she and Sarah worked hard, although the giggles still overcame them both as they managed to paint their legs and arms as well as the shed, and at one point, Beth absently leant against a freshly painted patch and ended up with pink hair.
But they were making progress and almost the whole of the hut now had a covering of Ice Cream Sprinkle Pink. Number 4 was beginning to look exactly how Beth remembered it, a pink castle nestled on a yellow beach.
She stepped back to admire their work.
‘You look tired,’ said Sarah in concern.
‘Bad night,’ confirmed Beth with a small sigh. ‘I didn't sleep too well.’
‘Is everything okay?’ Sarah’s tone was cautious.
‘Yes. I’m just worried about getting the hut finished and passing the inspection.’
Which was true but not the reason for Beth’s disturbed night.
She sighed again and saw Sarah send her another concerned look.
‘Ignore me, it’s been a hard week!’ said Beth, straightening her shoulders and forcing a more cheerful expression on her face. ‘But we’ve made great progress today.’
‘Are you going for the blue on the inside walls?’ asked Sarah, flicking through the colour charts. ‘It’s lovely, much more cheerful than grey,’ she added, pulling a face. ‘I wish I hadn’t let Darren talk me into toning down the colours we used. He wanted it to fit in with the other huts but it’s so boring.’
‘They are all… er, quite similar.’
‘You mean exactly the same! Like little clones of each other.’ Sarah wiped a long streak of pink from her arm. ‘I suggested that Darren and I painted our hut. I wanted to spend a weekend on the beach and make it our own.’
‘What did he say?’
‘That he was far too busy to spend his time painting. Isn’t that what painters were for, so you didn’t have to waste time doing it yourself? Then he flew out to Hamburg. The next thing I knew he told me he’d organised a surprise. He’d arranged for someone to decorate the hut, exactly how we wanted it. I came down to find a carbon copy of Jemima’s hut.’
Her beautiful face was troubled and her mouth downturned. ‘He did it for me so I couldn’t be too angry. But he doesn’t seem to know who I am anymore.’
Beth laid her paintbrush down and poured them both a drink of the homemade lemonade provided by Lavinia.
‘Have you tried talking to him?’ she asked quietly, sitting beside Sarah and following her eyes across the beach and out to sea.
‘Yes. But he doesn’t understand. We had so little when we first met, and now we have everything we could ever need. He doesn’t see or understand that it doesn’t make me happy.’
‘What would make you happy?’
There was a pause and Sarah’s eyes became cloudy and unfocused.
‘A husband who came home every night. Who had time to take a walk along the beach, who remembered how much we loved spending time together. A family,’ she whispered.
‘And Darren doesn’t want a baby?’ Beth’s voice was soft and gentle as she probed.
‘No. Well, not yet. He says this is our time and we need to make the most of it.’
They stopped talking and sipping their lemonade, they admired the view, both lost in their own thoughts until they picked up their brushes and resumed painting. Jemima’s terrace was empty and Beth remembered she was going to the nail salon. She spent most of her week preparing in some way for Dominic’s return, desperate to spend some time with her husband only to have a weekend of sour unpleasantness and never-ending complaints.
And then there was poor Sarah, thought Beth. On the surface she had everything but beneath the expensive clothes and immaculate hair, there was a desperately unhappy and lonely woman. Her husband had lost sight of what was important to her and they were drifting further and further away from each other.
It would appear that Beth wasn’t the only one struggling with the course of true love. Perhaps the future should be man free, it would lead to a lot less heartache she decided as she painted carefully around the window. Although, it would be a shame never to walk down the beach at sunset, hand in hand and knowing the person beside you loved you as much as you loved them. To sit side by side in companionable silence, just being in the same room bringing you both comfort.
She frowned. Okay, maybe she wouldn’t say no to men forever. Beth wasn’t sure she had Lizzie’s resilience and love of the solitary life. Maybe she would just have to be far more careful with her choices in the future.
Painting finished for the day they packed up ready to go home.
‘We can put this pile in the back of my car and I’ll take it away for you,’ offered Sarah as she tripped over one of the empty boxes pushed to one side of the hut.
‘Oh, you don’t have to….’
‘When will you stop being so independent, Beth Carter,’ said Sarah, wagging her finger in mock annoyance.
‘But I can’t let you…’
‘If people don’t want to help you, they won’t offer. I’ve offered, let me help.’
Grinning Beth conceded. ‘Okay, thank you. There’s so much rubbish I need to get rid of, all the things Aunt Lizzie had left behind. I’ve tried to rescue as much as I could but I’m afraid this is all beyond help.’
She smiled sadly, picking up an old deckchair.
‘Lizzie had his for years, as you can tell,’ she added with a giggle. The canvas was threadbare and the wood so faded it looked like paper. ‘She would sit on the deck for hours with her memories. She never needed anybody else, not really.’
‘Lucky woman,’ said Sarah with feeling. ‘If only we could all be more like that. Come on then, let’s get it loaded up.’
Ten minutes later they were both huffing and puffing with effort as they carried the boxes across the beach and heaved them into Sarah’s car.
‘Have I come along at the right time?’ asked a voice and Sarah pushed a box deep into the back of her Range Rover and collapsed against the boot in relief.
‘Oh, Jake! That’s almost perfect timing. Maybe ten minutes earlier would have been better!’
Still walking across the beach with a box in her arms, Beth almost fell over her own feet as she watched the exchange. She hadn’t expected Jake to turn up at the hut any more. Not now he had a reconciliation with Portia to work on.
‘Here, let me.’
He had taken a few long strides to reach Beth’s side and took the box from her rather sweaty grasp, sunglasses in place, mouth smiling.
Opening her mouth to protest, Beth caught Sarah’s stern look and meekly allowed him to take the weight of the box.
‘Thank you,’ she offered. ‘That’s very kind.’
He added the box to the others before turning to face the two women.
‘You okay?’ he asked Beth, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
‘Of course.’
‘Right. It’s just that you let me help you without arguing. Or snapping. Or shouting at me.’
Sarah snorted with laughter, making no attempt to hide her glee. ‘Exactly what I’ve just taken her to task about, Jake! She’s not easy to help, is she?’
Jake grinned. ‘Not in the slightest,’ he said, but without any rancour. ‘And she gets cross so easily.’
Beth’s cheeks were getting pinker by the minute.
‘Excuse me, I am here,’ she said in a dignified voice.
‘And then she gets on her high horse and becomes all huffy,’ added Jake, his eyes hidden but his mouth twitching.
‘I do not …oh!’
As Sarah and Jake both broke into laughter, Beth conceded defeat and joined in.
‘But it’s okay, because she’s promised not to get cross with me anymore,’ Jake said softly, his eyes pinned on Beth’s flushed face. ‘We’re going to be friends, in the future. Isn’t that right, Beth?’
Despite it being the end of the day, Beth felt the sun had just notched up a degree or two and not only her cheeks but her entire body was suddenly feeling very overheated.
‘That’s right,’ she said breathlessly refusing to meet his eyes and looking at Sarah instead. ‘Or at least, we’re going to try.’
Sarah was looking from Jake to Beth, her eyes dancing with curiosity.
‘Well, that’s good to know,’ she said, smirking, ‘very good.’
Telling them to stay by the car, Jake walked back to the hut to collect the last few boxes, both Beth and Sarah watching as his long legs covered the sand.
‘So, no romantic interest?’ asked Sarah casually.
‘No! None at all. I’ve told you, he’s back with Portia.’
‘Really? He told you that?’
‘Well, not exactly, but he went to talk to her yesterday and they went out last night.’
Sarah shrugged. ‘Doesn’t mean anything.’
‘Of course it does! He…’
‘He isn’t looking at you as though he’s just reconciled with his cheating fiancée,’ interrupted Sarah.
They both looked back towards the figure returning across the beach, several boxes stacked in his arms.
‘But if you say there’s no romance, then I believe you,’ said Sarah, in a tone that made it clear she didn’t believe a word Beth was saying.
Having established that Sarah intended to give the keys of the Range Rover to their groundsman who would dispose of Beth’s rubbish, they said goodbye, and Beth and Jake walked slowly along the cobbled lane beside the harbour wall in the direction of Welcome .
The road was still swarming with tourists, chatter and laughter filled the air and the smell of fish and chips drifted down one of the narrow alleys. Everyone they passed looked relaxed and happy, holding hands, licking ice creams, enjoying the view and the sea air. Welby-on-the-Sea had that effect on people decided Beth. It soothed the soul like nowhere else she had ever experienced.
Peeping sideways at Jake as he strolled by her side, Beth tried to decide whether he looked equally relaxed. Was there still an air of tension about the set of his jaw, were his shoulders a little too stiff? Shouldn’t he look happier now he and Portia had mended their differences?
As they walked past the sky-blue door of Jake’s cottage, Beth prepared herself for Jake to stop walking and announce that this was where he would be leaving her. That he had moved back into the delightful cottage by the sea he had invested so much time in renovating. But to Beth’s surprise he continued to walk, his pace steady and his eyes not even flickering to the side.
‘I’m surprised you haven’t gone back home yet,’ she said in a rush, before immediately regretting broaching the subject. Biting her lip, she cast her eyes down to the cobbles. She had been angry with him for questioning her movements regarding Matthew and now she was doing the same thing.
‘Sorry! It’s nothing to do with me and I shouldn’t…’
‘The timing hasn’t been right,’ he answered, his gaze fixed ahead. ‘But I suppose there isn’t any reason for me to stay at Lavinia’s any longer.’
‘Of course not.’ Beth hoped she sounded cheery. ‘Not when you’ve got your lovely home waiting for you.’
And a fiancée.
Jake nodded, but didn’t answer straight away.
‘You’re right,’ he said eventually. ‘I should go home, now things are settled.’
Beth’s heart plummeted. So, she was right. He had forgiven Portia. Taking Sam’s advice, he hadn’t allowed one mistake to spoil the course of true love. Not that it mattered of course because there was nothing between Beth and Jake, nothing at all.
‘I’m happy for you. That you’ve… sorted things.’
His hands were stuffed in his pockets as per usual and Beth longed to take off his sunglasses so she could see the expression in his eyes. Because his mouth was straight and firm, not at all happy.
‘And you?’ he asked. ‘How do you feel? Is it over with Matthew now?’
She could hardly be cross with him for asking. After all, she was desperate to know what was happening in his private life.
‘Yes, I think so,’ she answered. There was actually nothing to think about. She had hardly thought of Matthew all day.
‘Good. I mean that's good for you. You can move on.’
Like he had.
‘I suppose,’ she whispered, perversely unable to leave the subject alone even though it was causing her such discomfort. ‘And you too. No reason not to go home.’
They reached the slipway and crossed, weaving their way through a laughing crowd of people, all watching a dog frantically chasing a stick along the beach.
Jake paused, letting an elderly couple walk in front of them as they clutched each other’s hands and shuffled slowly in the direction of the waves breaking gently onto the sand.
Shrugging his shoulder, he met Beth’s gaze, holding her eyes for a moment before he replied.
‘I suppose not,’ he agreed. ‘No reason at all.’