Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
S taring at the clock wasn’t going to get Beryl here any quicker. Joyce understood that. But staring at the clock seemed to be all she was capable of doing. Any minute now, her sister would be arriving, and the waiting was making her barmy. Already, she’d mistaken the pizza man’s car for the limo delivering Beryl.
A limo . Mitch had lost his mind ordering a car like that. Joyce could only smile. Beryl getting picked up at the airport by a chauffeur bearing a placard with her name on it was something she’d talk about for the rest of her life. Joyce knew her sister well enough to know that was a guaranteed fact.
She stood at the back windows, looking over at the main house, the water a beautiful backdrop even with the last of the rain. It was so good to have Kyle home. She hoped everything was going all right with Ruthie. Such a sweet child. Joyce hadn’t said anything to Mitch or Kyle, but the baby looked a touch underweight to her.
She wasn’t an expert. Beryl was the one who’d had a child. Not her. Although Joyce had looked after them often enough until she’d come to the States. Still, she’d see what Beryl thought.
A couple of weeks of solid feeding and good care and that sweet angel would be right as rain. Joyce hoped.
She shook her head. There was nothing to be worried about. The child was fine. Maybe Ruthie hadn’t had the most attentive mother, and Kyle, bless him, what did he know about taking care of a baby? He’d done his best, no doubt, but she was in good hands now.
Many good hands. Joyce smiled. Babies were brilliant, weren’t they? Such amazing little marvels. And the way the tops of their heads smelled after a bath.
She closed her eyes, remembering that scent from Ruthie earlier. Just the best.
A horn sounded, two short taps.
Joyce jumped and ran to the window. A long black limo was pulling down the drive. She shrieked and ran down the steps, not bothering with the lift, although they’d definitely take the lift back up. Beryl would be well impressed with that.
She went outside as the limo parked. The driver hopped out and opened the rear door, giving Beryl a hand.
Beryl gasped as she took in the house and surroundings. “Do you really live here?”
“I do.” She pulled Beryl into a hug and they both cried as they laughed and embraced. “It’s so good to see you, Berry.”
“You, too, Joycie. I can’t believe I’m really here.”
“How was the flight? Everything go all right?”
“Just marvelous.” Beryl tipped her head at the chauffeur. “Then this one shows up with a placard with my name on it at the luggage collection. I almost died. Can you imagine?”
Joyce laughed. “Mitch thought you’d get a kick out of it.”
“I can’t wait to meet him. You know, I’ve been watching that show of his on Netflix. It’s a little violent at times but, oh, it’s something. All those vampires and whatnot.” Her brows rose and her lips pursed.
“He doesn’t have any control over what happens on that show, you know. It’s based on his books, but they take some liberties.”
“Is that right? Shame.”
The chauffeur, who’d gotten Beryl’s luggage from the trunk, cleared his throat softly. “Sorry to interrupt ladies. Where would you like the bags?”
“Oh, we’ll take them up in the lift,” Joyce said.
Beryl’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline. “You have a lift?”
Joyce grinned. “I don’t think there’s a house or guest house in Hideaway Bay that doesn’t.”
Beryl tutted. “So posh.”
The chauffeur took hold of the three bags. “I’m happy to load them onto the elevator for you. Just show me the way.”
“Come on, then,” Joyce said. Would he expect a tip? Probably. Everyone did these days, didn’t they? She had a tenner in her purse. She hoped that would do. She’d have to run upstairs to get it.
She directed him to the lift and held her hand across the door to keep it from closing. He got the bags into the car, then backed away. “I hope you enjoy your visit, Mrs. Furling.”
“Thank you, Jim. You’re a lovely driver.”
Joyce held her position so Beryl could get on. “If you’ll just wait here, I’ll be right back down with something for your troubles.”
Jim smiled. “No tipping required, ma’am. It’s already been taken care of.”
“Is that so?” Joyce shook her head. “That man is too much. Well, thank you all the same. You have a good night, now.”
“You, too.” He touched his hat and went back to the car.
She took her hand off the door and joined Beryl in the lift. The door whooshed closed. Impulsively, she hugged Beryl again. “It is so good to have you here.”
Beryl hugged her back. “It’s so good to be here. Although I must admit, I thought there’d be more sun. It was sunnier than this in Devon.”
Joyce laughed as she let her sister go. “There will be more sun than you know what to do with, I promise you that. Just wait.”
They stepped out into Joyce’s kitchen. She grabbed the largest of her sister’s bags, the big rolling one, and took it while Beryl managed her carryon.
“My.” Beryl looked around. “This is a smart little cottage, isn’t it? The views are gorgeous. You live here by yourself?”
Joyce nodded. “All mine. Comes with the job. You want to see your room? We can put your things in there then, while you get settled, I’ll make us a nice pot of tea. I have so much to tell you.”
“Do you? I can’t wait.”
Joyce wheeled the big case toward the guest room. “Are you hungry? I don’t suppose you’ve eaten supper.”
“I am, but I don’t want you to go to any fuss.”
“Nonsense.” Joyce pushed the door open ahead of her. “I can whip up some soup and sandwiches quick as you like. How would that be?”
“Perfect,” Beryl replied.
Joyce pushed the suitcase in, then stepped aside. “Here you are.”
“It’s lovely. I won’t be a minute.”
Joyce got to work on their dinner. She had a container of split pea in the fridge, which she’d made earlier that day, knowing full well it was one of her sister’s favorites. Along with that, she made some ham sandwiches. She added a small handful of crisps to each plate, even though Beryl would say she was on a diet and shouldn’t.
When Beryl returned, she’d changed into more leisurely clothing. Joyce had the plates with their bowls of soup and sandwiches on the coffee table. “Do you mind eating there? I thought that would be more comfortable than my little table. Plus, if you sit in the chair, you’ll have a beautiful view of the river. That’s where I usually sit.”
“I don’t want to take your chair.”
“Nonsense. You’re the guest.”
Beryl grinned. “Not to mention I am your older sister, so by all rights, that should be my seat.”
Joyce laughed. “Whatever you say, Berry.” She fixed two cups of tea and brought them over as well, taking a seat on the couch.
Beryl spread a napkin over her lap. “This looks so good. I shouldn’t eat those crisps, though. I’m trying to shift a few pounds.”
Joyce smiled to herself. “It’s only a tiny handful.”
“True,” Beryl said, picking one up. “So what’s all this news you have to share?”
“Well, you know how I told you about Mitch’s son?”
Beryl nodded, crunching away.
Joyce paused for effect. “He showed up today. With a baby .”