Good job you’ll never have to, then, isn’t it?I reminded myself, hastily stuffing the letter back into the envelope in response to the sound of Lily’s car pulling into the drive.
‘Ack. Don’t tell me Malcolm’s gone for a run?’ she asked, once Beanie and Jack were playing happily on the grass with a wooden farm and Flora had disappeared upstairs.
‘Sorry.’
She shook her head in disgust. ‘He gets on at me about all the jobs need doing. Now instead of helping me sort the soft furnishings in the lilac room, he’ll be setting the world to rights with his Welsh cronies until I’m far too knackered to hang a curtain.’
‘I’ll help,’ I offered.
Lily narrowed her pastel eyes at me. ‘I’m thinking you might actually mean that.’
‘I do!’ I laughed. ‘I work six days a week, and spend my evenings and days off cleaning and sorting out everything else that needs doing. I know I’m on holiday, supposedly learning to chill out for the first time ever, but if I don’t pace myself, I’m going to have a serious relapse. You’ll find me scrubbing cupboards at three in the morning.’
‘Really?’ She grinned. ‘You wouldn’t hear any complaints from me. Except that you’re my test guest, and that’s not quite the home-from-home experience I’m going for.’
‘Come on,’ I said. ‘I promise I won’t mention it in my review.’
Lily grabbed my hand, which I then used to help haul her up. ‘Oh, my goodness. You’re going to write a review?’
‘Best breakfast on the island,’ I said, with a nonchalant shrug. ‘So far, anyway.’
‘Don’t try the Copper Pot by the ferry port. That used to be my café, and they’ve stuck with all my recipes.’
By the time we’d hung the curtains, made up two single beds and plumped cushions, hung pictures and arranged knick-knacks to Lily’s satisfaction (until it all looked stunning, in other words), the younger kids were growing fractious, hens needed putting to bed and Flora was rootling in the cupboards for supper.
While Lily plonked Beanie and Jack in the bath, Flora and I shooed the chickens back in the coop then made bubbling cheese on toast, smothered with cider chutney. We scattered the strawberries I’d brought back over bowls of traditional island honey ice cream, and poured mugs of thick, creamy hot chocolate.
I made it through another Flora inquisition on mainland life, doing my best to channel Blessing as a far more typical example of English culture than me, but before long we were chatting about how she was considering journalism as an alternative to intelligence – ‘I’m not sure I can be bothered with being bossed about’ – and she was providing examples of all the latest island scoops.
‘So, the word on the Lithin promenade is that Barnie was seen in the gallery.’
‘Okay.’ I matched Flora’s body language, leaning forwards across the kitchen table as she took a triumphant bite of toast. ‘I don’t know what Lithin promenade is or why it matters that Barnie was in the gallery. Is he a secret art lover?’
Flora rolled her eyes. ‘Lithin is the other village. Well, it’s barely that, to be honest. It’s got like three shops that are any use and then the promenade, which is all tourist stuff. Most of the houses are holiday lets so it’s the most boring place on earth in winter. Anyway, the gallery may sell paintings, but none that Barnie could afford, even if his cousin did paint half of them. But it also sells jewellery.’
‘Aha.’ I nodded. ‘Engagement rings?’
‘I don’t suppose he’s after a shell necklace for himself, now, is he?’
‘I didn’t think he and Violet were even going out.’
‘They aren’t. But around here, that doesn’t make much difference. Not when you’ve grown up knowing every tiny little thing about each other. It doesn’t take much dating to decide if there’s going to be any chemistry or not. And Auntie Violet is ramping up the travel plans now Uncle Pip’s back. If Barnie’s smart – which is up for debate, to be fair – he knows it’s a grand gesture or nothing at this stage.’
We carried on chatting for a while longer, then a sheepish Malcolm arrived home, hastily taking over with the bedtime routine while Lily helped herself to the last slice of cheese on toast and Flora went to read in bed.
‘So, have you found out any more about your ma’s mystery man?’ Lily asked, almost causing the ice cream I’d just swallowed to refreeze in my gullet.
‘Um. Not really. I’ve only read a couple more letters.’ I scraped at the remains in my bowl, despite suddenly feelingnauseous. ‘I know they definitely married and lived on the island at some point.’
‘And you still aren’t ready to reveal the vital initial?’
I shook my head. ‘I’d rather read to the end of the story first, if that’s okay.’
‘Of course it’s okay. It’s your story. Ach, you only met us a couple of days ago, which is plenty long enough to learn what a bunch of gossipy old tattletales we are around here.’ She got up to put the kettle on. ‘You’re coming to the beach tomorrow, aren’t you? Pip did ask?’
‘Um. Yes.’
She nodded, pleased with herself. ‘I thought as much.’
