‘Absolutely. Nothing bad ever happens in Seahorse Harbour. Oh, wait. That’s not strictly true. We had a spate of burglaries this summer, but the crooks were soon apprehended, so don’t you worry. You might want to take a torch with you though. The street lights are few and far between. And stay away from the cliff-edge at night. It can be deceptive and you might think you’re on a safe path only to realise you’re not. In this weather, you wouldn’t be able to see it anyway.’
‘Don’t worry. Merry is a bit boisterous so we’ll be staying away from the cliff-edge while we’re here.’
‘I’ll leave you to it then and I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.’
I closed the door behind her and finished the drink she’d given me. It was definitely very potent and the chocolate and the cherries were exceedingly moreish. I hoped Lilith might offer me more of her egg-nog during my stay.
‘Come along then, Merry. Let’s venture out into the snow and go for a little walk into the village.’
Merry’s head shot up and her tail thwacked the bedspread. That dog could be sound asleep but the minute anyone said the word ‘walk’ it was as if she had supersonic hearing. She gave a small but enthusiastic bark and jumped off the bed.
It was quite a different story when I opened the front door a few minutes later. Merry had been pulling at her lead until then but once the door was opened and she saw the layer of white, and more snowflakes adding to it, she stopped in her tracks and looked up at me as if to say she’d changed her mind and didn’t want to go out, after all.
‘The fresh air will do us both some good.’
I’m not sure if I was trying to convince her or me. The air was bitterly cold now and the snow flurries swirled in front of us like tiny tornadoes. Sunrise B&B was so warm and cosy that the thought of venturing out definitely wasn’t that appealing.
A moment later, Merry raced outside, tugging me along with her. She might be small but she’s as strong as an ox. She’d obviously spotted something but I had no idea what. I couldn’t see anything moving on the other side of the dimly lit road, apart from the hedge, but as we got closer, I spotted a robin flying out of Merry’s way.
‘You should be tucked up somewhere warm,’ I said, as if the robin could hear me.
Mum loved robins. She always said that if you saw a robin it was a good omen and that they brought messages from loved ones who were no longer with us. Quite how they did that, she failed to explain.
‘Sometimes you simply need to have faith,’ she said.
I was so preoccupied wondering if this particular robin had brought a message from Mum and Dad that I only just remembered in time that on the other side of the hedge was yet another cliff. This one was only about a drop of fifteen feet or so into the gardens of the houses in The Heights, the road below Rock Road, but even so. Fifteen feet was a long way to fall, especially for a spaniel. I tugged Merry’s lead and made sure I kept her close to me. Thankfully, now that the robin had departed, she’d lost interest and we walked calmly ahead, the only sounds being the lapping sea against the cliffs, and the scrunch of snow beneath my boots.
We turned right onto Seahorse Cliffs road and walked down towards the village. There was a large open space of what I’m sure was grass beneath the blanket of snow and Merry and I made fresh tracks in the pristine layer. I could see the gardens and hedges of the cottages in Meadow Lane and could hear some children laughing gleefully in the distance. They were probably making snow-people or having snowball fights, even though it was dark, but it was only a little after 5 so they were no doubt having fun before being called indoors for their tea.
One or two of the gardens had those awful, dazzling spotlights that lit up the space as bright as day. I know they were supposed to deter intruders but did they have to be quite so glaring?
The rest of the gardens had colourful or plain white fairy lights decorating the hedges and the rear of the cottages. Some even had a snowman, or Santa, or reindeers on the roofs. The inflatable kind, of course. Not the real ones.
Other than hearing the children, Merry and I didn’t see another living soul as we wandered towards Church Row, with its cottages and houses giving off a very festive glow. Each cottage had a cheerful-looking wreath on the door and lights strung across the façade.
The shops were extremely Christmassy, the windows filled with wonderful items and one in particular really caught my attention. It was a seasonal display of felt mice having a jolly time in what was supposed to be a person’s living room. There were tiny ropes of colourful ribbon hanging from a coffee table covered with beautifully wrapped gifts. Some of the mice – who were all dressed in red, green, or other holiday colours, climbed either up or down the ribbons while others looked as if they were peeking into the gifts. Some sat on a plate of faux mince pies, one with its belly so rounded it looked fit to burst. A couple of the mice were curled up on the armchair, and another read a book at least five times its own size and propped up against a red and gold cushion. A faux fire burned to one side of the display and the whole thing was so cosy that I wanted to step into the window and curl up with those gorgeously cute mice. But Merry would probably try to play with them.
Merry’s sudden bark made me jump and a moment later, a tall, dark figure appeared from nowhere and raced towards me. For a split second, I foolishly thought I was about to be mugged, but the voice that greeted me sounded friendly – and rather deep and sexy, and made me breathe a sigh of relief.
‘Hello, gorgeous! Lovely weather, isn’t it?’
My heart did a rather surprising flutter and my cheeks burned as I looked at a set of long dark lashes on an exceedingly handsome face with a clean-shaven jaw. The man was at least seven or eight inches taller than me, so over six foot, solidly built and looked like the outdoorsy-type, with hair a sort of treacly colour and skin showing evidence of what was left of a tan. He was dressed in a tracksuit and a weatherproof jacket and was clearly just out running. His heavenly smile made me forget where I was for a second or two – until I realised that he hadn’t been speaking to me. His compliment was clearly directed at Merry as he bent down and stroked her, tickling her under her chin. Her tail wagged to and fro and she panted with excitement. I couldn’t blame her. I’d have done the same if this sexy hunk of a man had done that to me.
‘Are you here on holiday?’ he finally asked. ‘Or did you come for the funeral?’
He was still looking at Merry so I didn’t answer at first but he eventually glanced up at me with another smile and a questioning look in his startlingly bright eyes.
‘Oh, er. Holiday. Well, visit, really. I’ve come to see my aunt.’
He stood up and met my gaze and I felt myself blush even more.
‘Your aunt? That’s nice. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Asher. Asher Bryant.’
He held out his hand and I took it. Even through my gloves I felt a warmth that sent a tingle or two racing up my spine.
‘Hi. I’m Lottie Short. And this is Merry.’
‘Lottie? That’s short for Charlotte I assume?’
‘Yes. Asher’s an unusual name.’
He looked thoughtful for a second or two.
‘Not as unusual as my sister’s. Her name’s Sorcha. Are you staying for the holidays?’