Page 13 of Eden's Comfort Kitchen
Livia smiled. ‘Yours, dafty.’
‘Then how will you get home?’
‘In exactly the same way.’
‘You can’t walk me home and then walk all the way back to yours… I don’t know exactly how far that is but still, it’s got to be a bit out of the way.’
‘It’s not that bad. I can be pacey when I want to. Long legs, you see. Sprinter’s legs, my dad used to say.’
Eden shook her head. ‘Nah. That’s stupid. Not your legs, they’re not stupid. They’re probably nice. I mean, going up the cliffs for no reason is stupid. I can get home – it’s fine, I know the way.’
Livia started to laugh. ‘Yes, but you don’t usually have to go up there drunk.’
‘I’m not drunk.’
‘You’re not sober either.’
‘I am. A bit.’
Livia laughed again as she turned to a customer. While she was busy, Eden took her cue to sneak out. Much as she appreciated Livia’s offer, she wasn’t about to have her walk all the way up to Four Winds Cottage and then have to walk down the cliffs back to her own place in the dark.
As soon as she’d made it home, Eden had fallen into bed with a face full of make-up, taking advantage of the fact nobody would be around to see what she looked like when she got up. She had gone straight to sleep – the first time she’d done that since her mum had died. She’d woken with warm recollections of the night before, of laughing more than she’d laughed since her mum’s death, just for a short time able to leave that past behind and live for the moment. It had been lovely but all too brief. This morning, despite having those wonderful new memories, the old ones weren’t going to be banished so easily.
It didn’t help that Caitlin had called again. Early this time, as if to catch Eden out. Eden was drinking her first coffee of the day as the sun burned in through her kitchen window. She watched as her sister’s name flashed up, the ringing somehow more insistent, more urgent with every second that Eden tried to ignore it. And then it ended abruptly, almost as if it was a mirror of Caitlin’s mood at the other end, an unseen and impatient huff. She’d give up soon, wouldn’t she? She hated Eden now – she’d made that clear enough – so why spend so much time trying to speak to her?
As she tried to put it out of her mind, her gaze took in the kitchen. The house was hers for the next few months, but it didn’t feel like home yet. Perhaps something of her own tastewould change that. She couldn’t decorate, of course, but she could buy some soft furnishings and knick-knacks and then perhaps it would feel more homely. There weren’t many shops in Sea Glass Bay that weren’t geared specifically for the tourists, but she’d seen a fabric shop and she’d also seen a charity shop on the little high street. She might be able to get what she wanted in one of those. Of course, whatever she got in the fabric store would have to be made into something useful, and Eden couldn’t sew, but she’d bet that the owners of the shop would either be able to sew it for her or know someone who could.
An hour later, she was wandering down the narrow aisles of the shop, bolts of fabric stretching ahead like the marvellous patterned columns of a Roman temple. There was every colour and every style, from minimalist geometric designs to bold and sumptuous foliage, to pretty cottage-inspired florals. Eden didn’t know what she wanted or what she was going to do with it;, she only knew that she wanted to surround herself with things that felt like they were hers.
She stopped in front of a roll of William Morris-inspired cotton and ran a hand along it. Gorgeous as it was, perhaps it was a bit too vibrant for her. She moved along to something more subtle. There was still a hint of Victoriana about it, but the colours were muted and cosy. It was unassuming at first, but the more Eden looked at it, the more she liked it. As she was pondering what she might want made, a voice from behind made her jump.
‘Lovely, isn’t it?’ The shop assistant smiled. ‘I’ve got some of it in my bedroom at home.’
‘It’s gorgeous.’
‘What are you thinking of making with it?’
‘Oh, I don’t know…cushions maybe?’
‘I’d say it’s a bit flimsy for that to be honest. I mean, I wouldn’t want to tell you what to use, but I feel it’s more suited to bedding.’
Eden’s gaze went back to the fabric. She really liked it, but if it didn’t work, then it didn’t work.
‘What do you have that would be suitable for cushions?’
The woman glided down the aisle, and Eden followed her. She stopped at a section where the shades went from biscuit to claret to leaf green, all of them with similar patterns to the one Eden had originally been looking at.
‘One of these would do nicely. What machine are you working with?’
‘Oh…well, that’s the other thing – I don’t actually sew, and I’d need someone to make it for me. You don’t do that, do you?’
‘We do when we have time, but we’re pretty busy at the moment. There is someone locally who’d do a good job and sometimes picks up work for us. I could give you her number; you could get the fabric and see if she could do it for you.’
‘That would be brilliant, thank you.’
‘How much fabric do you need?’
‘Sorry, I don’t know…’
