Page 9 of The Path to the Last House Before the Sea

‘She’ll be back upstairs in a minute, so why don’t you go and make another cup of tea?’ urged Stan. ‘Then the two of you can watch the shop while I go and have a rest – like you keep saying I should.’

Jack stomped back to the kitchen, poured another cup of tea and took a deep breath. This was going to be awkward.

SIX

ALYSSA

Stan had disappeared by the time Alyssa brought the crisps up from the cellar. She could hear him clomping up the stairs to the flat above – a thud on each step, with the time between each thud getting longer as he neared the top.

Alyssa sighed. She’d known Stan for a few months – not very well, admittedly, but it was obvious, even to her, that he’d slowed down recently. Though still mourning his wife, he’d once had a spring in his step, but that was now missing. And last week in the shop, when he’d dropped a bag full of change, he had remarked that his hands didn’t seem to be moving as they should.

Fatigue in a grieving widower nearing seventy-five, along with stiff joints, was pretty circumstantial evidence of serious ill-health. And Stan had told her not to fuss when she’d asked how he was. But Alyssa couldn’t shake the feeling that something really wasn’t right.‘Once a nurse, always a nurse,’ she murmured, ripping open the box of salt and vinegar crisps.

Although that wasn’t literally true, because she would never nurse again. And while she felt the occasional pang for what she’d lost – the camaraderie of staff at the hospital, the friendship of patients, and the satisfaction of a job well done – it was always swamped by a rush of traumatic memories. Memories of one man, in particular, who had needed her help.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

A man’s deep voice behind her made Alyssa jump, and she swung round, almost knocking the mug from his hand.

‘Whoa! Watch it!’ He stepped back as Alyssa, still wrapped in remembrances of the past, tried to make sense of what was happening: the snarky tourist from that morning’s tour – the man she’d hoped never to see again – was standing in the shop, offering her a drink.

‘It’s you,’ she managed.

‘My thoughts exactly,’ said the man, staring at her, blank-faced. ‘Anyway, my dad reckoned you might like this.’ He walked to the till and put the mug on the counter. ‘If you’d like sugar, it’s in the kitchen,’ he added, as a curl of steam wafted towards the ceiling.

‘Your dad?’ said Alyssa, still feeling completely wrong-footed.

‘That’s right.’

‘So, you’re the wonderful Jack who Magda’s mentioned?’ It came out more sarcastically than Alyssa had intended, and Jack’s eyebrow shot up towards his hairline. ‘What I mean is, I didn’t realise when I saw you this morning. I thought you were a tourist.’

‘I kind of am because I’m only here temporarily. I’m helping Dad while he’s under the weather.’

‘That’s good news. Your dad’s not been one hundred per cent for a while.’

Jack frowned and folded his arms. ‘I know, but I’ve been too busy at work to get away.’

Did he think she was having a go at him for not being here earlier? ‘I’m not criticising,’ she said, putting down the three bags of crisps she’d only just realised she was holding.

‘It sounded like—’ Jack took a deep breath and breathed out slowly. ‘Look, I think we probably got off on the wrong foot, and I may have been a little brusque. On your tour, I mean.’

You think? But Alyssa bit back her words and waited for Jack to continue.

He looked at her and gave his head a shake. ‘I’m sorry if I was at all dismissive or a pain, only I’m a scientist, and myths and legends aren’t really my thing.’

‘OK, that’s fine. I get it’s not for everyone. But why did you sign up for the tour in the first place?’

‘My father suggested it.’

‘And do you do everything your father suggests?’ asked Alyssa, smiling to make it perfectly clear that she was joking. Kind of.

Jack gave a smile back, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘Of course not, but I didn’t realise how untethered from reality your tour was going to be.’

Untethered was a strong word, thought Alyssa. But she let it go because he had apologised, and she didn’t want to be the kind of person who held a grudge. So all she muttered was, ‘Reality isn’t always everything it’s cracked up to be.’

Jack shot her a baffled look before gesturing at her drink. ‘Anyway, you’d better have that while it’s hot.’ He watched while she picked up the mug and took a sip. ‘How long have you been working here?’

‘Only a couple of weeks,’ Alyssa replied, cursing inside as a bead of dark liquid fell from her lips and trailed down her sweatshirt. How hard was it to drink without dribbling? Scientist Jack Gathergill, with his brooding presence and insincere apologies, was making her flustered. ‘I do mostly afternoon shifts,’ she told him, carefully putting the mug down.

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