Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
T he afternoon sun was glorious and Dilly decided to keep the gallery shut for the rest of the day. She needed to escape her usual routine and didn’t feel like making small talk with prospective buyers. With her canvas and easel under her arm and a bag full of paints in her hand, she set off for a walk along the harbour where the boats swayed gently with the tide, their colourful sails flapping in the breeze. She checked her phone every two minutes in the hope that Max would ring, but there was nothing. Heading towards the sand dunes, she took off her shoes, feeling the warmth of the sand beneath her feet for a while before putting them back on and taking the coastal path.
At the very top of the cliff, just outside Cliff Top Cottage, was a bench overlooking the water, a favourite spot for locals because not many tourists ventured this far. She set up her paints then paused, taking in the panoramic view of the sparkling water, stretching into the distance under the bright afternoon sun. Surrounded by the sounds of nature – the seagulls crying above her, the waves crashing against the rocks and the puffins with their bold, colourful beaks mooing, a sound that always made her smile – she painted solidly for the next few hours.
* * *
‘It’s not very often I see you up here.’
Dilly spun round to see Pete leaning on the garden gate of Cliff Top Cottage.
‘I thought I’d come and see the lighthouse from a different viewpoint.’
The gate creaked as Pete opened it and walked towards her. He joined her on the bench and pointed to the lighthouse.
‘Over the years, I’ve watched that light shine out across these waters,’ he began. ‘I’m quite envious that you get to live there now.’
Dilly smiled. ‘Henry came over earlier and gave me a box of old photographs of the lighthouse. It’s filled with history. He said it would be something to show the children.’
Pete chuckled softly. ‘That sounds like Henry, always thinking ahead. And yes, the news has spread. An ambulance arriving on the island doesn’t exactly go unnoticed. Congratulations, by the way. How are you feeling about it all?’
Dilly took a moment, looking out at the puffins riding the waves. ‘I’m happy,’ she finally said. ‘It’s not something I ever anticipated for myself, being a single mum of twins, but it feels like a fresh start. A new home, a second gallery… I just wish my mum was here to share this adventure with me.’
Pete nodded. ‘It’s heartbreaking to lose someone so close,’ he agreed. ‘It’s not something you get over quickly, but as time passes, the pain becomes less raw. You learn to live with it, and the memories become a comfort. Sometimes they even make you smile.’
Dilly appreciated Pete’s words. She knew he understood, as he had lost his best friend to a rip current when they were in their early twenties. ‘You knew my grandparents and my mother well, didn’t you?’ she began.
‘I did,’ Pete replied, a fond smile spreading across his face. ‘Selby Sinton, your grandmother, was a mighty fine woman. Hardworking, straightforward, but fair. And she was never without her cherry-red lipstick. Your grandfather was the same – minus the lipstick, of course – and a rock for this community. And your mother, well, she had a spirit all of her own.’
‘That’s what I love about being part of this community. Everyone looks after everyone. I’m never alone.’
Hearing footsteps on the gravel they both turned and saw Betty approaching. ‘That cliff path gets harder by the day,’ she said as she held up a white carrier bag. ‘Cake and scones from the tearoom. I thought I’d call in on my oldest friend as I’ve got the afternoon off.’ Betty locked eyes with Dilly. ‘Congratulations, Dilly! I’m not sure who is most excited, the newbie grandad or the godmother. Please tell me you’ll get the babies christened? You’ll likely have to, as Clemmie is already picking an outfit.’
Dilly laughed. ‘That sounds like Clem!’
Betty leaned across and kissed her on the cheek. ‘You are going to make a brilliant mother. Shove up,’ she said to Pete then sat down next to him.
‘Girls, too!’ exclaimed Betty. Dilly caught Pete leaning forward as he shot Betty a subtle but warning glance.
Dilly knew exactly what was on Betty’s mind. She wanted to ask the burning question that all the islanders would be asking: who was the father? But Dilly decided not to entertain the question. It was nobody’s business except her own so there was no need for a make-believe story of a one-night stand.
Instead, she confirmed the detail that Betty was already aware of. ‘Yes! Twin girls! I’m going to have my hands full for sure.’
Dilly could see Pete smirking at how she’d handled the situation. Now she had her own burning question to ask.
‘Betty, I’m going to share something with you.’ Dilly hesitated, knowing that she could be opening up a can of worms and Betty and Pete might think she was completely insane. Betty sat forward eagerly, hoping – Dilly suspected – it was information about the father. ‘Something strange has happened that I can’t quite explain. Not just once but twice.’ Dilly had their undivided attention. ‘I think I’ve seen my mum.’
The other two stared at her.
‘And I don’t mean I’m seeing ghosts.’
‘What exactly do you mean?’ asked Pete.
Dilly took a deep breath and began to recount her recent experiences. ‘She had the same hair, walked the same, it was her. But, every time, she disappeared before I could reach her.’
Betty and Pete exchanged a glance, their expressions both concerned and confused.
‘It was her,’ Dilly said again, feeling a need to convince them. ‘I know it sounds impossible, but the only explanation I can think of is that she survived the accident and maybe has amnesia.’
Pete spoke softly. ‘Dilly, I know you want this to be your mum, but it seems very unlikely. It’s probably someone who just looks remarkably like your mum, and you’re in such a state right now that you’re willing it to be her.’
‘But I know what I saw… Betty?’
Betty, who was usually full of opinions and quick to speak, had gone quiet, and her face had paled.
‘What do you think, Betty?’ Dilly pressed, wanting to hear her thoughts.
Betty hesitated, glancing briefly at Pete then back at Dilly. Dilly noticed a flicker of something, maybe uncertainty – maybe even fear – in her eyes. ‘I… I second Pete,’ she said finally. ‘It’s probably just a case of mistaken identity. Someone who resembles her.’
‘Do you know something, Betty? Have you seen her, too?’
Betty was quick to shake her head. ‘We would know if your mum was alive.’ She stood up abruptly. ‘I need to get back. I’ll catch you both later.’ She started walking back down the coastal path.
‘I thought we were having cake and scones,’ Pete shouted after her but Betty was nearly out of sight. ‘I’ll never understand women,’ he said, taking off his cap and mopping his brow with his hanky.
‘Do you think Betty was suddenly acting very weird just now?’
‘The majority of women I know act weird.’ Pete chuckled.
But Dilly couldn’t shake the feeling that Betty knew more. Betty had looked like she wanted to say something but then changed her mind. Why?