Page 7 of The Path to the Last House Before the Sea

‘Everyone likes Rosie and they’re delighted that she and Liam have found each other and are getting married. Happy endings aren’t always a given. Anyway…’ Magda got to her feet so quickly, water slopped onto the floor. She placed the glass on the table. ‘I mustn’t keep you from your lunch a moment longer. I’m glad you’re doing OK out here, Alyssa, and you know where I am if there are any problems.’

Alyssa watched Magda pick her way across the garden and disappear into the back door of her cottage. She had the feeling there was more to Magda’s visit than met the eye. But it had been kind of her landlady to check up on her. In fact, everyone she’d met in the village had been kind to her – except for the sneery tourist, who, she decided as she spooned beans onto her toast, didn’t count.

She sat at the tiny table and ate her lunch, all the while eyeing the brown envelope which had arrived earlier that morning. She could open it now and get it over with, or do it later, once the day’s work was done.

‘Now,’ said Alyssa, making up her mind and pulling the envelope closer, even though it was tempting to wait until she had a large glass of wine in her hand.

When she ripped the envelope open and tipped it upside down, half a dozen smaller envelopes tumbled onto the table – remnants of her old life before Heaven’s Cove – along with a piece of paper.

It was a note, she realised, as she picked the paper up. A note that simply said: Missing you, Baby – Ben x

FIVE

JACK

A blend of aromas hit Jack when he pushed open the door to Gathergill’s Mini Mart: sharp citrus, chemical overtones of plastic packaging, and a meaty waft of dog chews. The smells were familiar – another constant in an ever-changing world – and even the faint whiff of damp rising from the cellar was soothing.

‘The prodigal son returns from Dartmoor,’ declared Stan, who was standing at the till. He closed the Radio Times he’d been looking at and smiled. ‘How was the tour?’

‘It was OK, thanks. Have you been busy?’

‘Not really. There was a rush about an hour ago – a bunch of tourists in search of beer – but it’s been quiet ever since.’

Not so much quiet as dead. The mini-supermarket that provided Heaven’s Cove residents with everything from fresh fruit and breakfast cereal to hair grips and pet food was often rammed with customers. But right now, it was completely empty.

Jack picked up a fallen bar of Dairy Milk and put it back on the shelf, alongside a vast array of confectionery. As well as beer, tourists bought a huge amount of chocolate and sweets – any diets apparently abandoned the moment they set foot in the village. Which was beneficial for Stan’s profits, and very good news for Magda and her ice-cream parlour.

‘I saw Auntie Mags in the village, on my way back, who said to say hello.’

Stan nodded. ‘She’s invited me round tomorrow morning to sit by the sea with a few scoops of salted caramel.’

‘She knows the way to your heart. Actually…’ Jack hesitated. He’d usually ease into a health-related conversation with his father, but talk of Magda had provided a shortcut. ‘She’s worried about you, Dad. She thinks you’re working too hard and need a break.’

‘That woman worries too much, just like your mother did.’

‘They only worry because they care,’ said Jack mildly, putting the Radio Times back into the magazine rack. ‘And you do seem a bit out of sorts these days – not quite yourself.’

‘What rubbish! I really don’t want to discuss it,’ declared Stan, closing down any prospect of a heart-to-heart conversation. ‘There’s no need to waste your time, because I’m perfectly fine.’

That was a lie, obviously. His dad worked far too hard for a widower with health issues, and he seemed less mobile these days. He was often overcome with a lethargy that made him sleep for hours, and Jack had noticed tremors beneath his skin – twitches, like small electric shocks.

But Stan wouldn’t be told, which was why Jack was here – to help out for a while, and persuade him to have a check-up with his GP. The enforced break from work was also giving Jack time to consider his own impending divorce, but he was doing his best not to think about that.

‘Anyway. The tour,’ said Stan, putting a stray penny into the till and slamming it shut. ‘You said it was OK, but did you enjoy it?’

Jack wrinkled his nose. ‘It was great to be out on Dartmoor again but devils, dragons and spirits? The myths and legends part was too bonkers for me.’

‘That’s a shame.’ Stan ran a hand through his thinning hair. ‘I thought you might enjoy something different, and I’ve heard good things about those tours.’ He gave Jack a sideways glance. ‘Plus, it’s good to get away from facts and figures for a while. To expand your mind and embrace the unknown.’

‘Facts and figures do expand my mind, thank you very much.’

Stan sniffed. ‘So, how did you get on with the tour guide? She’s a nice young woman, don’t you think? Pretty and personable.’

‘Mmm,’ said Jack noncommittally.

‘Did she tell you where she’s living?’

‘No, we didn’t chat much,’ answered Jack, dipping his head so his father wouldn’t notice the flush on his cheeks. He hadn’t chatted to the tour guide at all and, hopefully, after his less than stellar behaviour, he’d manage to avoid her until he left Heaven’s Cove.

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