Page 23 of Escape to Starshine Cove
Just long enough to catch my breath… Even as I repeat the words in my mind, I feel something unclench inside me. I feel a sudden rush of relaxation, of calm, of rightness. The last month has been a blur of hectic tedium, and I realise that I while I am still running, I am running on empty. That this isn’t just something Icoulddo – it’s something Ineedto do. The trick will be doing it and then moving on, before Connie snares me in her sugar-coated web.
“Jacob Hennessy,” I say, echoing her tone to him the day before, “you just might be more than a pretty face.”
He raises his glass, and I clink mine against his.
“Here’s to holidays,” he says, smiling his perfect smile. “And spicing up your life.”
ChapterTwelve
It is now Thursday, and I have settled into a gentle routine. Larry and I eat breakfast at the inn, and then we usually head out to explore.
We have visited so many beautiful places, seen so many beautiful sights – and they have been so much more enjoyable with another living creature to share them with. Admittedly, he’s not much of a conversationalist, but that suits me just fine. He is happy to simply be at my side, to accompany me, to share my crisps and to curl up on my lap wherever we are. I take literally hundreds of pictures of him, and am starting to understand all those people who fill their social media posts with photos of their pets.
He is now also looking very smart after a trip to a grooming salon, emerging smelling of lavender and trimmed into shape. He wasn’t as keen, and immediately found some poo to roll around in to make himself feel better – but I suspect he is a lot cooler, and that he can also see a lot better now his fringe has been cut. I probably need to do the same myself, as my hair is by this stage nowhere near a bob. I had to maintain a certain level of smartness when I was working, but must admit I am enjoying the freedom now that isn’t an issue.
I quite like the blonde streaks from all my days in the sun, the slight tangle that all the sea air has given my hair. More than that, I like the honest sense of exhaustion I have by the end of each day – days spent walking and climbing and clambering and swimming in the sea. It is a different type of tiredness to work-tiredness; it feels hard-earned, like it gives you as much energy as it takes. Plus, it makes the reward at the end of the day even sweeter.
Every evening, I have gone back to the inn after a day of adventure. Every evening, I have enjoyed a Starshine Special, and a quick chat with Jake as we listen to music on the jukebox. It’s nothing deep and meaningful, nothing earth-shattering – we respect each other’s boundaries, and I simply enjoy it. It feels like a way of easing myself back into the world. He is, in a small, quiet way, becoming a friend – someone I can talk to about my day, someone who has a sense of humour, someone who makes me smile, all the way to my eyes.
And after that, I make the trek up those rickety stairs, to my pretty room with a view, and allow myself to enjoy it. I enjoy my shower, and I enjoy seeing the star-studded bay stretching out beneath me, and I enjoy the way Larry seems so settled. Mainly, I enjoy that wonderful feeling when you finally lay down your tired body on a comfortable bed, stretching sore muscles, feeling fresh linen against sun-kissed skin, glorying in the space and the softness and the serenity of it all. I never thought that the simple act of going to bed at the end of the day could be so glorious.
I have continued messaging Priya, and reopened lines of proper communication with Katie and Lucy, and spoken briefly to Mark about the need to disentangle our finances. We still share a joint account, where my final wages were sent, and that is obviously not something that can continue. He raised the issue of the house again, and I suggested what I thought was fair – there is no way that I would ask for half of it, as I only contributed a fraction of that. I know a good lawyer would grind their teeth in horror, but I really don’t want to be greedy, or take more than I need. I am more than capable of supporting myself, and the sum we have agreed upon will cushion the blow for a while if I am careful.
In short, I have been having adventures, drinking cocktails, and Sorting My Shit Out. Jake was more right than he could have imagined – staying still hasn’t just allowed me to catch my breath, it’s allowed me to regain control of my own life. At least some of it.
Nobody has come forward to claim Larry, which is another wonderful piece of news, because I cannot imagine my life without this smelly lump of fur playing a starring role in every scene.
Today, my companion and I have stayed closer to base camp. We have explored the caves in daylight, and found to my delight that they sparkle almost as much as they do at night. The deeper you go into the cavern, the more shady it is, and if you stop and wait until the sunshine hits it just right, you are rewarded with a glorious shower of sparkle and shimmer. I whirl around in it, dancing beneath a glitterball entirely created by nature.
I see tiny chunks of the stuff on the floor, and realise that this is what Daisy the artist must use for her creations. I’ve been told she’s in Australia for the summer, but I hope that one day, I can buy one of her pieces. A little bit of Starshine Cove to take away with me, a reminder of all that I found here.
We spend some time on the beach, and it is fuller than normal – by which I mean I see about 20 other people, all tourists from the look of it, all clearly enjoying their secret slice of heaven. It is a warm day, and the heat seems to float off the waves, rolling into a hazy horizon. I see a couple of boats bobbing around further out, and decide that I’d like to do that one day. Sail off into the sunset, and see how this place looks from the other side.
Eventually, we make our way along the beach and up the steps to the café. The flowers are in full bloom, and I spot a patch of swaying red and yellow gladioli that have blossomed as others have faded. Archie knows his stuff, and I suspect there is something to delight the eyes and senses all year round in Starshine Cove. I notice one of the little fairy creations peeking up at me from behind a thick green stalk, and bid her a good day as I walk along the path.
Inside, Connie is in full command mode, dashing around behind the counter, plating up sandwiches and pouring drinks and singing along to ‘I Heard It Through The Grapevine’ on the radio. I see Dan on waiter duty, and he looks thrilled about it, as well as a girl of about the same age who I assume is his sister, Sophie. Where Dan hides behind his rebellious appearance and fake-surly exterior, Sophie looks like the exact opposite – she has her mum’s gorgeous golden curls, big blue eyes, and seems to enjoy chatting to the customers as she waltzes gracefully around the room delivering orders.
Connie spots me, and holds up a hand, waving me over to the counter. George is already there, Lottie in her traditional almost-comatose pose at his feet.
“The wanderer returns!” George announces, gesturing for me to sit next to him. “How goes it, traveller?”
“It goes…well, thank you. We’ve been having a nice time.”
Connie places the orders on the counter, bashing her hand against an old-fashioned brass bell that presumably tells her waiting staff, or children as some might call them, that they are ready. Even from across the room, I can see Dan grimace in that way that only teenagers can.
“So,” she says, propping her elbows up on the surface and resting her face in her palms, “how are you finding life with Starshine Cove’s most eligible bachelor?”
“Connie, I’m hurt!” George announces, passing a corner of toast down to Larry. “I thought that was me!”
“Maybe 60 years ago, babe,” she replies, winking at me.
“Well, Connie,” I reply slowly, “as landlords go, he’s not bad. He has good taste in music and makes a mean cocktail, but I hate to disappoint you – no romance is brewing.”
“Are you sure?” she says, pleadingly. “Because it seems such a waste of two gorgeous young people in the prime of their lives…”
“And by that, you mean that if we don’t jump into bed with each other, we’re being wasted?”
“Well, when you put it like that…yes! Anyway. There’s time yet. I haven’t given up hope.”
