“Handsome? Thank you kindly,” he replies, raising his pint glass and quirking one eyebrow at me.
“Oh come on – you must have looked in a mirror!” I answer, laughing. “I’m just stating fact, not flirting. Anyway…go on, what happened next?”
“I got lost. Now, if Connie was here, she’d say I was already lost, and I ended up getting found – because she loves that kind of thing. But the truth is I just got lost – I was heading for this area, to look at a hotel further down the coast. One of those grand old dames that had fallen on hard times – I thought it looked ripe for a cheap offer, a quick spruce up, and hey presto, ‘luxury’ apartments to sell on. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention, maybe I was just blindly following a dodgy satnav – I’ve no idea. But instead I ended up here. I stopped, saw that this place was also up for sale, and…”
“The rest is history?”
“Not quite. At first I thought I’d do the same thing – buy it up, sell it on. I didn’t imagine it was doing well as a hotel, not in a place like this. Thought it’d be another quick profit. Ran into the first problem when George wouldn’t sell it to me.”
“George?” I repeat in surprise. “George the old guy who was a teacher?”
“The very same. It had been in his family for generations; his sister used to run it. We met up for a drink, and after a chat that lasted all of five minutes, he told me I wasn’t the ‘right kind of person’ for the Starshine Inn.
“I had no idea what he meant, but I suppose it kicked off my competitive instinct – especially when I found out from the agent that he’d also turned down three other buyers for the same mysterious reason. I decided to stay on and convince him. I kept upping the offer, and he kept turning it down, and eventually I realised that he was either the world’s best businessman, or it wasn’t the money he was interested in. Which, you know, was a completely alien concept to me at the time – everything was about the money.”
“What happened? How did you change his mind?” I ask, fascinated, and already halfway through my Starshine Special.
“I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse – that I would stay on, that if he agreed to sell, I’d stay as manager and make a success of it. Naïve, really – it was already as successful as anybody wanted it to be. But somehow it convinced him, and I thought I’d won. Had some kind of back-up plan to get the sale through, then cut and run…except, well, that thing happened.”
“What thing?”
“That thing that makes it so damn hard to dismiss all of the guffins about magic and leylines and fate. That thing where I just…fell in love with the place. Felt at home for the first time since I was a kid. Felt happy for the first time in years. Felt like I’d finally found the place I was supposed to be.”
“All by accident?”
He nods, and I ponder the story.
“So, it’s tales like this that had them all oohing and aahing when I turned up – they’re half expecting the same is going to happen with me, aren’t they? That I’ll fall in love with it?”
“I suspect they are, yes. And really, it’s a compliment. This place might be tucked away, but it does have visitors, it does have a small tourist industry. The inn is usually booked up, the café is always busy, Trevor has to reprint his history booklet a couple of times a year. Not everybody who visits stays, obviously. You must be special.”
“I’m really not, and I have no idea why they think I might be here any longer than it takes for my car to get fixed up…” I reply, thinking out loud.
Jake meets my eyes, and looks suddenly serious. “I could give you my opinion, but it might not be easy to hear.”
I bite my lip, and am half tempted to tell him no thank you, please keep your thoughts to yourself. Instead, I nod, and gesture for him to carry on.
“Don’t be offended by this, Ella, but you also seem a little lost. Not just geographically. I’m not buying into the mystic quest nonsense, but I can tell you’re in some kind of pain. I can see that when you smile, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. I recognise it, too, that look – the one you’re using to convince yourself and everyone else that you’re fine, when maybe you’re not. It was the look I used to see on my own face, every single day.”
“You see entirely too much,” I snap back defensively. He might be right, but this isn’t pleasant – I feel exposed, vulnerable, raw. Like I’m being very gently dissected.
He leans back, and starts to apologise.
“No,” I say, interrupting him, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m just…well, you’re right, obviously. It’s complicated, but you’re right. I was a doctor. Am a doctor, I suppose. And the last few years have been…”
“Traumatic?”
It sounds like such a dramatic word, but I realise that it is the right one. All of it – the hours, the lack of supplies, the sheer madness of it all – has taken its toll. Even without Lizzie, without Mark, it would have been hard.
“Maybe. I don’t know – and I don’t want to bleat on about it. Other people lost a lot more than I did. And please don’t tell any of the others, all right? I’m just not ready to…to be part of anything yet, if that makes sense? It’s tough enough putting up with my own scrutiny, never mind a whole village worth!”
He reaches out, briefly touches my hand – a brush of his fingers against mine – before moving them quickly away when he sees me stiffen.
“I won’t, I promise,” he replies firmly. “You’re fine. You’re safe here, even if it’s just for a night.”
Safe, even just for a night. It sounds so simple, so consoling, and I find myself welling up in response. That makes me angry, and I screw up my eyes and tell myself off. It’s quite the rollercoaster.
“Are you ready for a change of subject?” he asks, patting the seat next to him until Larry agrees to jump up and join him.
