There wasn’t even a drainpipe, or a lamppost nearby. Not that I’d ever leave Merry tied to something near the road. As I mentioned, she likes to chase things. She’s not the sort of dog to sit patiently, her gaze fixed firmly on the entrance, waiting for her owner to reappear. And definitely not if something catches her eye.
We proceeded past the other two shops and the car park of the pub when the sudden and extremely loud peel of bells almost gave me a heart attack. Even Merry jumped around to see where the noise was coming from. For such a small church, those bells were deafening, but we were standing directly opposite the bell tower. After the initial shock, they sounded melodious.
I couldn’t see the lychgate from where I stood as the entrance to the church was hidden by the trunk of the ancient oak but I heard a cheery voice call out, ‘Good morning.’
I wasn’t sure if the person was greeting me, or someone else as I scanned for a glimpse of the speaker, but I decided to err on the side of caution and replied with an equally cheery, ‘Good morning.’
Nothing further was said, so Merry and I continued on our way, but I did glance over my shoulder once or twice in the hope of seeing someone. I suddenly had an irrational thought that the greeting might have come from a ghost in that graveyard. But of course that was fanciful nonsense. Although I couldn’t see a living soul.
I’d been tempted to walk towards Church Hill and then past Asher’s cottage on Rope Way. I could see the cottage from where we were but instead, I took the turning before, called Sand Lane and walked past The Seahorse Inn. After what Lilith had said to Asher, I thought it might look as if I were stalking him or something if he glanced out of his window and saw me go past.
The Seahorse Inn looked exactly as it had on the website, which I suppose it should have done. It was painted cerise pink and had a thatched roof and a blackened oak front door and looked as ancient as the oak tree outside the church opposite. The sign hanging to one side of the pub door was of a seahorse and the name was written in the oval, cast iron surround. It creaked a little as it began to swing gently to and fro in the slight breeze that had picked up again.
I peered in the window as I passed and the inside appeared to be far more modern and rather eclectic. I could see a log fire burning in a hearth at one end of the pub. If dogs were allowed inside, I’d definitely pop in for a glass of wine later. Or maybe a Bailey’s. It was the festive season, after all.
I felt a warm glow just thinking about sitting beside that fire. Imagine how much cosier it would be to sit beside that fire with someone special.
Once again, a vision of Asher Bryant popped into my head. Still, that was so much better than a vision of Clark Corne, who I bet was sitting in front of a roaring fire every day and every night in the ski chalet he and his friends had rented. But I dismissed all thoughts of him from my mind. I could survive without Clark. Not that I really had a choice.
The door to the pub was closed but I read a sign on it that informed me the premises opened at 11 a.m. every day and that food was served from noon until 2 and again from 6 until 10 in the evening. Last orders for drinks was 11, so presumably it closed shortly after that.
The door also displayed a colourful flyer, again with a seahorse in the background, giving details of the Hippocampus Restaurant on Sea Walk, and a dark blue and silver flyer advertising Neptune’s Nightclub. I suppose that was because Mikkel Meloy owned all three places.
I’d definitely visit the pub and the restaurant while I was here, but I wouldn’t be going to a nightclub on my own. I didn’t think Aunt Elsie would be interested in going with me to a place like that.
Assuming she and I got on, that is. She might not even invite me in, especially if she didn’t like dogs. I hadn’t really thought this through but I knew that I was on my way to Aunt Elsie’s cottage. I was intending to wait a day or two and get my bearings in the village before I went to see her, but as soon as I saw the sign for Church Hill as I stood opposite the church, I knew that I would be going to see my aunt today.
Church Hill was the longest road in the village, according to the map I’d looked at earlier on my phone, thanks to Google. It led from the top of a very steep hill to the north of the church, down past Wood Lane and Rope Way and skirted the length of Sea Walk, right the way to the entrance to Seahorse Harbour Holiday Park.
Seaside Cottage, which was where Aunt Elsie lived was situated on a raised bank on the corner of Wood Lane and Church Hill, but the front entrance was actually the first home on Church Hill.
Walking down Sand Lane, with the pub on one side and the beautiful gardens opposite, called Memorial Gardens according to the plaque, I couldn’t see Elsie’s cottage, but again, I’d had a sneaky peek courtesy of various maps on the internet.
I’d even seen inside, thanks to a couple of property marketing websites. Although those photos had been from the time when the cottage was on the market, before Aunt Elsie bought it just a few years ago, and it might not be the same now as it was in those images. Elsie might’ve changed it. But then again, she might not.
I wouldn’t mention I’d done that when I did meet her though. Some people might possibly see that as an invasion of their privacy.
It really was worrying what could be found on the internet these days. For example, I didn’t know when Elsie had moved to Seahorse Harbour, but all I needed to do to find out was enter the address and look for ‘sold properties in the area’. Details of all sales popped up in a helpful list giving the house numbers, the month and year the property was sold, and a link to any relevant sales details from the past. I even knew how much she paid for it.
At the end of Sand Lane was a large store, the sign of which read: The General Store. This was clearly the village supermarket, although a quick glance in the massive glass windows, covered in large, white, cut-out snowflakes and equally large, bright red stars declaring several bargains could be had, showed it sold virtually everything you might need – within reason. I could hear the Christmas music playing inside, from here and I could also see one or two people doing some shopping. I was a little relieved to see the village wasn’t entirely deserted.
I stepped onto what I’d seen from my brief research, was Sea Walk. Beneath the thick layer of snow were dark pink and dark purple paving slabs and the whole length of Sea Walk was pedestrianized.
I glanced along to my left and could see a couple of shops, plus Hippocampus Restaurant where a Christmas tree at least four metres high stood in a round, wooden tub. It was strung with bright white fairy lights and seahorse-shaped decorations, which I assumed must be weather-proof. They must also have been tied very tightly to the branches because Sea Walk was exposed to all the elements.
Beside that was Neptune’s Nightclub with a deep bright blue and shiny façade. I had seen on the internet that each of the two large, glass doors had an image of the god himself etched into them, but I couldn’t see the doors from where I stood.
I could see a sign to The Boathouse though, and most importantly, I could see Seahorse Tales, the sea life centre which had a bright turquoise façade and a teal roof, although the roof was currently covered by a blanket of snow.
Beyond that there were just snow-covered cliffs and I could see waves splashing against the cliffs of Seahorse Point where the headland protruded out into the sea.
I wondered if Asher was in his surgery or at the sea life centre right now. Not that it mattered. I needed to avoid him for today at least. Hopefully by tomorrow, he’d have forgotten what Lilith had said to him.