‘What’s that lovely smell?’ I asked as my stomach caught a heavenly scent and hastily reminded me that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
‘Your dinner,’ Sophie smiled, ‘assuming you aren’t allergic to seafood?’
‘I’m not,’ I quickly reassured her. ‘I’m not allergic to anything.’
As I took in the delicious aroma, I was rather relieved about that.
‘It was on the pub menu today,’ she explained. ‘I supply some of the heartier dishes you see, and I saved a serving for you from earlier. You’ll just have to heat it up when you want it later. I’ve put it on the side for now.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, inhaling again. ‘Is it a curry?’
‘Sort of,’ she nodded. ‘It’s a bit of a foodie fusion really. My aunt’s Caribbean curried crab with coconut recipe, but made with fresh Norfolk crab.’
‘Wow,’ I laughed. ‘What a fantastic combination. I have to admit it’s not what I would have expected to find on a pub menu in Wynmouth, but I can’t wait to try it.’
Sophie looked delighted by my enthusiasm and my stomach gave another embarrassingly loud rumble. It almost matched Thor’s efforts.
‘You don’t have to wait for dinner time of course,’ she nudged. ‘You can eat whenever you like on holiday.’
‘I didn’t have any lunch,’ I told her. ‘The journey took longer than I expected and I didn’t want to stop.’
Sophie eyed me astutely.
‘You sound like my daughter,’ she nodded. ‘She’s about the same age as you and she never used to make mealtimes much of a priority either. That’s all changed now,’ she added, flashing me another smile before checking her watch. ‘But look at the time!’ she exclaimed. ‘I have to go. If there’s anything you need just pop next door and ask. Although,’ she added as she reached the front door, ‘I’d wait until this storm has passed, if I were you.’
She ducked out into the rain and headed back towards the pub, banging the wonky gate behind her in her haste. I picked up the cracked flower pot, carried it inside and set it down on the hearthstone before checking the fire. I could hear the radiators were gurgling into life and didn’t think it would be long before I was able to run myself a bath.
Once I was happy with the fire I sat on the sofa, reached for my bag and automatically pulled out my phone.
‘Don’t even go there,’ I sternly told myself as I toyed with the idea of turning it back on.
It really would be better if I didn’t see Dad’s reaction to my defection. My text had been brief, but clear enough.
Hi Dad. In view of the fact that I haven’t been feeling all that well recently, and that Chris has proved himself more than capable of handling things in the office, I’ve decided to take a break. As you may recall, it’s been quite some time since I took a holiday so I’m sure you’ll understand. I’ll keep you posted as to when I plan to come back. Please, don’t worry about me. See you soon. Tess x
I was pretty certain he would be raging like a bear with a sore head by now. I had added the ‘don’t worry’ to remind him to look beyond his temper and try to think of me as his daughter for once instead of his employee. I was rather proud that I hadn’t said sorry for taking off. I had recently found myself all too often apologizing for things I had no reason to be sorry for.
Before I gave in to temptation, I took the phone and my charger and deposited it into one of the drawers under the old pine table which stood in the window.
‘Out of sight,’ I muttered to myself, ‘out of mind.’
Or at least that was what I hoped.
Chapter 4
I went to bed early that night completely blissed out after my delicious dinner (courtesy of Sophie’s clever culinary skills), and the longest soak in the tub. I could have stayed in the bath all night, had it not been for fear of turning into a prune. The bed was extremely comfortable and as the storm headed off, I cracked the window open a little so I could fall asleep listening to the sound of the waves as they rolled in and broke on the shore.
Considering the jumbled-up state of my emotions, I slept more soundly than I could have hoped and dreamt of my last adventure down at the beach huts. Waking to the sound of gulls and feeling refreshed and revived as opposed to slightly panicked as my phone alarm blared out was a wonderful feeling. It was still an early start, but then I’d already fathomed that some old habits were going to be hard to break.
I took a moment to stretch out in the bed, tried to dismiss how alien it felt not to already be scanning through my inbox, and wondered if any of the local kids I used to hang around with still lived in the village. We had only ever been on first-name terms and I probably wouldn’t be able to recognize them now, but I would keep my eyes peeled for familiar faces, nonetheless. Surely, there was one I would recognize should I happen to bump into him.
When I eventually opened the curtains, I was delighted to see that there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and in stark contrast to when I arrived the air felt warm. I wouldn’t be needing an umbrella today or an extra layer. While waiting for the kettle to boil I opened the back door which led out into a tiny walled courtyard. It was too damp to sit out, but I would certainly be making use of the bistro set as soon as the sun had dried everything enough.
‘Good morning!’ called a smartly dressed elderly gentleman with a Jack Russell terrier on a lead when I set off to explore a short while later.
I hadn’t been planning to head out quite so soon, but after my first caffeine hit of the day, my brain had been determined to lead my body to the drawer where I’d stashed my phone and so I was sensibly putting temptation firmly out of reach. I’d also added Mum’s diary to the drawer and even though I wanted to read more, I thought I would benefit from winding down a bit before I picked it up again.
It was a novelty to be heading out so soon after I had decided to go though. With no work to go to, I had realized there was no need to straighten my hair into submission, or waste time on flawless make-up. It was all very liberating, although I had still mascaraed my lashes and applied a slick of lip gloss.
‘Morning,’ I smiled back, before jumping out of the way to let the beach tractor by.
The driver stared down at me and carried on, and then nodded to the old man as the machine trundled slowly and noisily by.
‘Are you heading down to the beach, my dear?’ the man asked as I looked up and down the lane, checking for more vehicles.
‘If I don’t get run over first,’ I told him.
‘Are you here on holiday?’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I’m staying in Wynmouth for a couple of weeks.’ The words made my heart race. ‘You?’
‘Visiting my sister. She moved here a few years ago after she lost her husband.’
‘She’s a local then.’
‘Oh, dear me, no,’ the man laughed before turning up the road which led to the pub car park. ‘You have to have lived here for seven generations to be considered a local. At least!’
He brandished the walking stick he was carrying and pottered on.
‘Bye!’ I called after him. ‘Nice to meet you.’