Page 55 of The Path to the Last House Before the Sea

‘Don’t worry. That takes you out of your way whereas I’ll be walking right by his shop, so I can give it back.’

Alyssa took the elaborately carved wooden stick, less worried about Belinda’s elongated journey home than Stan’s ability to withstand more of her questioning about his health.

‘He went home quite early. I saw Jack driving him away a couple of hours ago.’

‘He did mention that he wouldn’t be staying for too long,’ lied Alyssa, trying to deflect Belinda’s gossip radar. ‘He said he had something to sort out in the shop.’

‘I dare say. Always working, that man. He’s trying to assuage his grief through keeping busy, don’t you think?’

Alyssa mumbled noncommittally, though Belinda had a point. Idleness rarely led to peace of mind in her experience, whereas keeping busy kept the demons at bay. She began sweeping with extra vigour.

An hour later, Alyssa reached Stan’s shop. It was closed but when she banged on the door Stan appeared and ushered her inside.

‘Sorry to disturb you, Stan. How are you doing?’

‘All right. The music was a bit loud so Jack and I came away early.’

Stan didn’t look all right. His face was ashen-grey and his shoulders were drooped as if every step was an effort.

‘You left this in the marquee,’ said Alyssa, handing over his walking stick. ‘Where’s Jack?’

‘Doing one of those video calls with Archie. The phone signal’s a bit hit and miss in here, so he’s gone over to the village green where it’s better.’

‘In that case, let me get you settled upstairs and I can make you a cup of tea.’

‘There’s no need,’ mumbled Stan, but he put up little resistance when Alyssa took his arm and helped him up the stairs.

She made him a hot drink while he settled into his chair in the comfy sitting room and sat staring out of the window, towards the sea. ‘Kind of you,’ he murmured when she set the steaming cup in front of him, not moving his gaze away from the view.

‘You look tired, Stan. Is there anything else I can get you?’ asked Alyssa, treading carefully because he was probably still unaware that she knew of his diagnosis.

‘It’s been a different kind of day,’ he said quietly, turning to look at her. ‘And you’ve been very kind to bring my walking stick back and make me a drink when you’ve had such a busy day yourself.’

‘It’s been even busier for Magda. Did you know she’s gone home with a bad migraine?’

‘I’ve hardly seen Magda all day,’ said Stan, picking up his cup and saucer, the tremor in his hands making the china rattle. ‘Has Jack finished his call yet?’

Alyssa walked to the window on the other side of the room –this window faced the church, and the village green where a woman in a yellow sweatshirt was walking her dog. Near to her was Jack, talking animatedly at his phone. ‘It looks as if he’s still chatting to Archie.’

‘He misses that boy, and so do I. Archie was the apple of Penny’s eye, you know. She’d be heartbroken that Jack and Miri are getting divorced.’ Stan paused and took a sip of his tea. ‘What do you make of Miri? I saw you this afternoon.’

Talking to Miri or kissing his son? When Alyssa hesitated, Stan added: ‘You were talking to her outside the tent.’

‘Well.’ Alyssa chose her words carefully. ‘She seems like an interesting woman.’

‘Ha, you don’t like her either.’ The ghost of a smile played across Stan’s lips. ‘She brought her new man to the reception, which was very bad form in my view, and she hardly had two words for me.’

‘Jack still seems very fond of her.’

‘He’s loved her for years, and she’s not a bad woman. She’s a good mother to Archie and she was a decent enough daughter-in-law, but now she wants to break up and Jack is finding it hard to accept. You can’t always help who you love, I suppose.’

When he went back to staring out of the window, Alyssa decided it was time to leave Stan in peace. Jack was still chatting to Archie but would be back soon. She glanced at him again. He was pacing as he talked and appeared to be circling the Mourning Stone that marked Charity and Josiah’s mysterious disappearance.

‘I have a strange question to ask,’ said Alyssa, picturing the old wooden box that had been hidden away at Driftwood House for years. ‘It’s a real long shot, but is there any way you might know if Josiah had red hair?’

Stan wrinkled his nose, looking taken aback. ‘My murderous ancestor Josiah?’

Alyssa nodded. ‘I wondered if any family stories you were told about his disappearance included any information about what he looked like?’

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