You would have been stretched to make it a comfortable holiday spot for two, unless you were in the first flush of romance and happy to live on top of each other. Not an emotion I had felt for a very long time. Relationships were another thing I had sacrificed in my quest to keep focused on my career. Anything beyond half a dozen or so dates – or sooner if things felt even remotely as though they were heading towards serious – were ruled out. I had disappointed a good share of men in recent years and my heart had taken a bit of a battering too. As a result, I was sworn off romance (although not uncomplicated sex with no strings attached), for good.
I baulked at the thought that, if my interpretation of what Mum had written was correct, then I was like my father in that sense. I was certain that he and his lover could have managed to feel right at home with the compromised space in Crow’s Nest Cottage, but then quickly kicked the thought away. I would get around to the further details of Mum’s diaries at some point, but now was not the time. Now I wanted to enjoy getting to know the cottage which, given its dimensions, probably wouldn’t take long.
I heard the woman with the bags follow me inside and breathe a sigh of relief as she put them down. For a moment I had a horrible feeling the cottage had been double-booked but then it dawned on me who she was.
‘You must be Sam,’ I said, confident that I had made the right assumption.
‘No,’ she smiled, quickly closing the door on the rain. ‘Sam’s the cottage owner and landlord of the Smuggler’s next door. I’m Sophie. I’m a friend of his.’
‘Oh,’ I said, glancing around the room again and this time noticing that things weren’t perhaps looking quite as perfect as they should. The sofa cushions definitely needed plumping and the shade on the table lamp was a little askew, ‘I see.’
Sophie followed my gaze.
‘Sam had an unexpected appointment this afternoon,’ she explained, ‘so he asked me to welcome you. It’s just the finishing touches to see to now, but I’m sorry it’s not been done yet. It’s been a bit of a rush for me to get around. Usually Sam would see to everything himself and in plenty of time.’
‘Well, it doesn’t matter,’ I told her. Slightly flat cushions and a wonky lampshade aside, it was still lovely. ‘It looks great to me, even prettier than I imagined it would be.’
Sophie looked relieved.
‘I’m Tess, by the way,’ I added. My excitement to have finally made it over the cottage threshold had momentarily robbed me of my manners and I had failed to introduce myself. ‘Tess Tyler. Though I’m guessing you know that already.’
Just for a moment Sophie’s smile faltered.
‘Tyler?’ She frowned.
‘That’s right.’
‘Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Tess,’ she said. ‘Welcome to Crow’s Nest Cottage.’
‘Thank you. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to be here.’
I was just about to go into how I had dreamed of coming back to Wynmouth for years, but a sudden rumble of thunder made us both jump and Sophie carried on the conversation before I did.
‘Sam was so pleased you could come at such short notice,’ she said as she quickly straightened the shade and flicked on the lamp and then turned on another next to the fire.
The room looked even cosier bathed in a peachy warm glow, but it was chilly. Certainly chilly for May, I realized as I gave an involuntary shudder. I’d only packed a couple of jumpers and one pair of jeans. Everything else I’d treated myself to on my speedy shopping trip was geared up for much warmer weather.
‘These old walls take a while to heat up in the summer,’ said Sophie, noticing my goosebumps. ‘And we haven’t had the sunniest of starts this year.’
I hoped there would be at least a few hot days to come. I didn’t much fancy getting to know the beach again under the protection of an umbrella. Not that I would be using one in a thunderstorm. Right on cue the lights flickered and another boom, closer this time, rolled overhead.
‘Thor is in a grump this afternoon,’ Sophie mused, looking out at the sky. ‘Why don’t I get these bags unpacked and the kettle on while you explore and then I’ll light the log burner. It will heat the hot water and radiators and warm the place up in no time.’
‘That would be great,’ I said appreciatively, ‘but can’t I give you a hand? What is it that you’ve got there?’
‘It’s your welcome pack,’ she explained. ‘Lots of lovely local produce and a few essentials so you don’t have to venture to the shops for a couple of days, unless you want to of course.’
‘That’s such a kind thought.’
‘It should have all been ready for your arrival so I wouldn’t have to interrupt you at all,’ she confided, ‘but I had a last-minute influx of customers and couldn’t close up early today. Not that I’m complaining, but I am sorry to intrude before you’ve had a chance to even boil the kettle.’
‘It’s really no bother,’ I told her, because I didn’t mind at all. Sophie’s warm welcome was exactly what I would have expected from a Wynmouth resident. ‘Do you work in the pub with Sam?’
‘Occasionally,’ she told me, ‘but I have my own business too. It’s a café.’
‘A café?’
‘Yes, right next to the beach.’
I wondered if she had taken on the boarded-up building I could remember, which was near where the tractors pulled the boats in and out of the sea. That was right next to the beach but had been long abandoned when I knew it. I had always thought it was spooky but the local kids I sometimes hung out with used to dare each other to break in and graffiti the walls. If that was the place Sophie was referring to, it must have taken a miracle to transform it.
‘Because of the weather, it’s not particularly busy at the moment,’ she continued, ‘so I can’t very well turn folk away when they find me, even if they do come a little outside the regular opening hours.’
‘Of course not,’ I agreed, ‘and as I said, it’s no problem at all.’
While Sophie unpacked, I went off to explore and found the rest of the cottage was every bit as pretty as the sitting room. There was just the one bedroom upstairs with a large welcoming brass-framed bed complete with lavender-scented fresh linen and a bathroom with a roll-top bath which I couldn’t wait to relax into.
The view from the bedroom was of the lane in front but on tiptoe from the bathroom at the back I could just see the curve of the coast and the cliffs where the static vans Mum, Dad and I stayed in were pitched. I wondered if the beach huts were still there too. I would have to take a walk to find out, once the weather had improved.
‘Do you take sugar?’ Sophie called, just as I was remembering my last trip to the huts. ‘I’ve made a pot of tea.’
The doors of the wood burner were open when I went back down and warm tendrils of heat were already making their way into the room.
‘No thank you,’ I said. ‘Just a splash of milk would be great.’
Sophie handed me a mug and explained how to stoke the fire as I’d never been in charge of one before and then she closed the doors so the radiators would heat up faster. It all sounded simple enough and looking at the contents of the fridge and cupboards I knew I probably wouldn’t have to buy another morsel to eat during my entire visit. Joan would have been delighted.