Page 78 of The Diary at the Last House Before the Sea

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GEOFFREY

Geoffrey had been dreading the fete and open day, even though he knew it raised much-needed money for charities in and around Heaven’s Cove.

It was good, of course, to see so many locals enjoying themselves in the sunshine. It would be curmudgeonly in the extreme to think otherwise. But he disliked them wandering around his home, pointing at things with their mouths open. And he lived in fear of youngsters trampling all over his flower beds – which was ironic when the majority of those beds would be flattened soon enough by a bulldozer.

He threw another dart, which didn’t even reach the dartboard at the back of the stall, and gave a tight smile when the stallholder, pub landlord Fred, declared loudly: ‘Ooh, that’s a shame. No prize for the Squire, I’m afraid.’

‘I can live with that,’ Geoffrey murmured, heading for the refreshments tent. There was only so much taking part in proceedings that he could stomach, although people were being extremely nice to him. Were some of them sad to see him go? he wondered.

He looked around him, at children laughing and eating candy floss and smiling villagers he’d known for decades, and his bad mood suddenly lifted.

Clara had done a grand job, with River’s help, and the fete was proving a great success. The least he could do was to make an effort, especially as it was for the very last time. The Brellashams would leave Heaven’s Cove with their heads held high.

He decided to go back to the manor, to help show people round, and he’d almost reached the door when local eccentric Claude stepped in front of him, blocking his way.

‘Claude, I’m surprised to see you here,’ said Geoffrey, taking a step back from Claude’s dog which was shedding hairs everywhere.

‘I got invited by Clara, if that’s a’right with you, when she was asking me about dead bodies,’ said Claude, his words softened by a strong Devon accent.

Geoffrey blinked in the bright sunlight. ‘Dead bodies?’

‘That’s right. Not much idea what she was going on about but she told me to get myself along here, so I have.’

Claude hadn’t spoken to him in years, Geoffrey realised, as the old fisherman stroked a hand down his wild grey beard. Not as far as he could remember. Or perhaps it was more a case of Geoffrey not having spoken to him.

A shudder of shame went down his spine. His family had been a part of this village for generations and yet there were long-term residents of Heaven’s Cove that he didn’t converse with from one year to the next.

‘You’re very welcome here,’ he told his grizzled visitor. Too little, too late.

‘I heard you’re leaving.’ Claude gave his shedding dog a pat on the head.

‘Yes, sadly that’s the case.’

‘Staying in Heaven’s Cove, are you?’

‘No, I’ll be moving away.’

Claude sniffed. ‘That’s a mistake.’

‘Possibly, but I’ve decided to move on.’

When Claude stared at him for a moment, Geoffrey had the uncomfortable feeling that the old eccentric could see into his soul. He curled his fingers into his palms, rather disgusted with himself for being so…new age. He’d be joining the wokerati next. He wasn’t quite sure who or what the wokerati was but he knew that he wouldn’t want to be a part of it.

‘It’d be hard to see everything your family’s built up being changed,’ said Claude. ‘It’ll be strange, the Brellashams not being a part of Heaven’s Cove after so long.’ He sniffed again, more loudly. ‘Well, I wish you well though you’ll hardly be on the breadline after selling this place.’

Claude was obviously not a man to mince his words.

‘Thank you,’ said Geoffrey briskly, now wanting this conversation to end. ‘I’d better get on. I’m helping with tours of the manor. Um…would you like to have a look around?’

Claude sniffed. ‘Nope. What’s the point?’ And with that enigmatic farewell he sloped off with the dog at his heels.

Geoffrey watched him go, the flash of shame he’d felt morphing into something new. It was regret, he realised, that he hadn’t been a bigger and better part of the local community. That he hadn’t got to know its characters, like Claude, or spent time drinking in The Smugglers Haunt. He might even have made a few friends.

But he’d had his chance and he’d blown it. He’d virtually locked himself away at Brellasham Manor following the departure of his wife and son and it was too late now to make up for lost time. Claude’s parting words What’s the point? rang in Geoffrey’s ears.

With a heavy heart, he walked into the grand hallway of his home and nodded at the woman from the bakery who was gawping at his great-grandfather’s stained-glass window. He would find River and Clara, who were shepherding people around his home, and offer to help. That would show willing on his part.

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