Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
The rest of the weekend evaporated in a haze of paint charts and to-do lists, and when Monday morning swung around, it brought with it a dank late-March cloak of ghostly grey sky.
I forced myself out of bed at six am, so that I could get ready before Caleb, Mum and Dad arrived to pick me up.
Taking them to the airport was a doddle at that time of the morning, with only the silhouette of the coastline and the odd early motorist for company.
However, the car journey consisted of Mum checking and then rechecking they’d given us their holiday itinerary, as well as sufficient details of contact numbers and addresses.
Mum fiddled with her newly trimmed bob, while beside her on the back seat Dad was exasperated. ‘Stop fretting, Eve. The kids will be fine. We can FaceTime, we can email; we’re not disappearing off the face of the earth.’
Once we’d deposited Mum and Dad at the terminal with their Mount Vesuvius of luggage by their side, there were fierce hugs and kisses all round. Then Dad steered me to one side. ‘If you need to speak to me, if you have any worries or concerns about the cottages…’
I squeezed his arm. ‘I’ll be fine, Dad. Thank you. Caleb, Katie and I will be okay.’
Dad lowered his voice. ‘Now you’ve got all the financial information I gave you for the business, as well as the accountant’s details, and you know there’re sufficient funds in the bank for you to use.’
I patted his arm. ‘Stop fretting, Dad. You go off and have a great time with Mum.’
Dad’s hazel eyes twinkled under his thick, greying brows. ‘I know I had reservations at the beginning, but I’m proud of you, Poppy. For taking this on and giving it a shot.’
‘Well, hopefully, I’ll succeed far more than just giving it a shot.’
Once Dad had steered our tearful mum through to the departures desk, Caleb returned me to the annexe. ‘Do you want to come in for a bit before you head back?’ I asked.
He shook his head. ‘No thanks, sis. I’d better not. I’m up against it with this latest deadline for Super Shark.’
I pulled my quilted jacket tighter against the sea-stirred cold and glanced at my watch. It was just before eight am. ‘Joe and his lads said they’d be here by eight-thirty to get a prompt start.’
‘Well, if you need anything, give us a shout. Katie said she’ll be here by nine.’
I waved Caleb off and then made sure the door was locked and bolted. That confrontation with Alex Lapley had given me a bit of a turn, but I was damned if I was going to let it dictate what I did and didn’t do.
I’d just finished ferrying assorted biscuits, mugs of tea and shortbread over to Joe and his team, when Katie’s little Mini rolled into view.
She got out, dressed in old denims and a loose white shirt with one of Caleb’s cricket jumpers pulled on over the top.
Her hair was tied back in a spirally ponytail.
She closed her eyes for a moment. ‘Oh shit! I knew I’d forgotten something. I meant to pop into the bakers on the way up here and get us something for lunch, save you faffing around.’
I ran over to the first cottage, where the front door was flung wide open, and there was the crackle of music from a radio somewhere. ‘Joe,’ I yelled, ‘Katie and I are just popping down to the bakers to get a few bits for lunch. Do you guys need anything?’
‘Liam’s asking for a scrambled egg roll, if they’ve got any left,’ came a disembodied voice.
I smiled to myself. The young lad had already polished off most of the iced ring biscuits. Oh, to have a young and fast metabolism again.
‘Okay. Will do.’
A blushing Liam emerged at the front door and handed me the money.
Katie and I set off in her car, back down to the sloping roofs and shops still wrapped in a delicate shawl of morning mist. Soon, Katie was turning into a vacant space in the car park opposite the bakers.
There was the delicious, floury scent of warm bread as we entered beneath the pink-and-white-striped awning.
We were aware of a couple of other customers who’d meandered in and joined us in the queue, while we debated whether we wanted chorizo, mozzarella and rocket rolls, or brie, grape and salad paninis. As we shuffled closer to the counter, there was a bit of a commotion from the doorway.
We swung around to see Eliza Compton, the tour guide at McKerron Castle. She looked alarmed and her complexion was milky white. She hovered on the shop threshold. ‘You be careful, Poppy,’ she said, her eyes wide at both of us.
Katie and I swapped confused stares.
Eliza thrust her handbag back under her arm and began backing out of the shop door. She looked anaemic, what with her snowball of hair and her frozen, pale expression.
‘What’s wrong, Mrs Compton? What is it?’ I asked her, concerned.
‘You keep well away from anyone with that Lapley surname, do you hear me?’ She then seemed to think better of it and stepped back through the door of the bakers, rushing towards Katie. She clutched at her arm, her red nails pressing against the sleeve of Katie’s jumper. ‘Promise me, girls.’
‘Okay!’ Katie gave a half-laugh. ‘We promise.’ She jokingly held up two of her fingers in the shape of a cross, as though fending off a vampire, but Eliza was not amused.
‘It’s no laughing matter,’ she hissed. She headed back for the door. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ And with a final, lingering stare, she hurried out into the street and disappeared.