Page 60 of The Diary at the Last House Before the Sea

What would people say if they knew what had really happened to Audrey since her break for freedom? she wondered, drumming her feet against the stone. What would Geoffrey and River say, let alone her own mother? Everything had become so complicated. And now that an end to the mystery was in sight, she wasn’t sure that she’d done the right thing in pursuing the truth.

She bit into the ice cream cone and tried to focus instead on people watching. A few locals who were out and about waved to her, but most of those passing by were tourists: many of them young couples wandering the narrow lanes hand in hand, and overheated children in sunhats being followed by frazzled parents.

Some villagers moaned about the annual ‘invasion’ which clogged local roads but Clara didn’t mind it. An influx of visitors made Heaven’s Cove hum with life from spring until autumn’s end and it kept the local economy going.

But sometimes she longed for winter and crisp frosty days when she could walk through the village unhindered. When Brellasham Manor was decorated for Christmas and the gardens were covered in a blanket of snow.

Would she still be able to visit the manor this Christmas, Clara wondered, or would it be a building site with its innards torn apart and every reminder of Audrey on the third floor eradicated?

She suddenly noticed a familiar figure striding along the street that edged the sea wall. Bartie was walking with a young woman in a tailored trouser suit. The woman batted her blonde hair over her shoulder and laughed at something that Bartie was saying.

Clara blinked. This was potentially awkward, after not succumbing to Bartie’s charms yesterday afternoon – another decision which Clara was not completely sure had been the right one, even though her hunch about Audrey’s final message had paid off.

She stood up, ready to flee, but immediately sat back down again. She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t seen him. That would be childish in the extreme. So, taking the bull by the horns, she waved and called out, ‘Hey, Bartie!’

His pace faltered and he waved back before wandering over.

‘Fancy seeing you here, Clara.’

‘In the middle of Heaven’s Cove. Surprising, that.’

Clara smiled at Bartie, who gave a somewhat frosty smile back and then turned to his companion. ‘Where are my manners? This is Hannah, from the development company that’s interested in acquiring the manor. Hannah, this is Clara, a friend from years ago.’

Hannah put out her hand. ‘I’m delighted to meet you, Clara.’ Her voice was low and silky, her accent Home Counties.

‘Likewise,’ said Clara, shaking Hannah’s outstretched hand while acutely aware that her skin was sticky with dripped ice cream.

Hannah’s smile wavered slightly as she withdrew her hand.

‘Clara’s mother is currently the housekeeper at Brellasham Manor,’ said Bartie.

‘Oh dear.’ Hannah’s cherry-red lips formed into a pout. ‘It’s unfortunate that she’ll lose her job when the sale goes through.’

‘If the sale goes through,’ said Bartie quickly. ‘It’s all very much up in the air at the moment.’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Hannah, staring at Clara’s T-shirt which was spattered with salted caramel. ‘It’s entirely up to Geoffrey what he wants to do with the manor and I’m not counting any chickens before they hatch.’

‘Hopefully, if your company does end up buying the manor, my mum won’t lose her home as well as her job,’ said Clara. ‘Did Bartie mention her cottage to you? The whitewashed one in the grounds, near the gates?’

‘Of course I did. That’s all in hand,’ said Bartie, but not before Clara had noticed the puzzled look that crossed Hannah’s face. ‘As I assured Geoffrey this morning, Hannah is very open to retaining the cottage and allowing your mother to stay there on a peppercorn rent. Isn’t that right?’

He turned to Hannah, who nodded. ‘Uh-huh. Absolutely. Peppercorn rent.’

‘Did Bartie also mention the annual charity fete that takes place in the grounds, and how important it is to the local community?’

‘I mentioned everything, just like I promised,’ said Bartie, pointing out to sea. ‘Wow! Look at that amazing boat over there.’ A large yacht was a splash of white and blue in the distance. ‘That must be worth a mint. I’ve always fancied owning a yacht.’

‘Me too. A very large one in the Caribbean,’ laughed Hannah.

Clara looked between the two of them as they began discussing the merits of sailing mega-expensive boats in exotic waters. Hannah seemed cool as a cucumber but there was something different, almost desperate, about Bartie as he kept the nautical conversation going.

‘If Brellasham Manor is turned into apartments, what sort of price do you expect them to go for?’ asked Clara, butting into their chat.

Hannah stopped conversing abruptly and turned towards her. ‘Would you be interested in buying one?’

‘I’d love to but I imagine they’ll be very expensive.’

‘They will be rather top-end, in such a marvellous location. I anticipate them being very popular with a prestigious international demographic, most of whom will likely be cash buyers. But if you can scrape the deposit together and secure a mortgage, absolutely anyone will be considered.’ Absolutely anyone. Clara was beginning to feel patronised. ‘Where do you live currently?’

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