Page 36 of The Winter of Second Chances
Annie laughed.
‘Don’t worry about that, you can’t miss me, there is literally nothing but me and the abyss. You’ll see when you come down.’
‘Where on earth have you moved to?’ asked Sally, laughing.
The library lobby was plastered with flyers advertising everything from art classes and church times to private tutoring. In pride of place at the centre of a large cork board was the Willow Bay Historical Society manifesto, and surrounding it were details and times of meetings and agendas. Annie noted that almost every meeting featured a ‘Save Saltwater Nook’ slot.
She wandered into the library and spied Emily methodically returning a stack of books to their rightful homes. Annie caught her eye and waved. Emily gave a curt nod.
‘Hi,’ Annie whispered. She didn’t want to be shushed by Emily. Emily looked like the kind of librarian who shushed patrons as a matter of course. ‘I’m looking forThe Woman in White,’ she said.
Emily pointed to the Classics section.
‘You know, Wilkie Collins wroteThe Woman in Whitejust along the coast in Broadstairs,’ said Emily.
‘I didn’t,’ said Annie. ‘That’s interesting to know. What a lovely stroke of serendipity.’
‘This coastline is steeped in history,’ said Emily. ‘Be nice to keep it that way.’
Annie smiled enigmatically.
‘You know, you could be our woman on the inside,’ said Emily, ‘gathering intel and garnering support for the cause from the people who use the beach.’
‘Oh, I’m not sure I should get involved. It feels like a conflict of interests, what with me being a tenant and all.’
‘You think you won’t be out on your ear the second Granger gets his money?’ said Emily.
Mari had promised Annie the place was hers till the spring. Would John Granger honour that? Annie couldn’t be sure, but what she did know was that starting a campaign against John Granger was unlikely to help her case.
‘Regardless,’ said Annie. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea.’
After checking out her book, Annie made her way round to the Willow Bay Stores.
‘Annie, hi!’ called Samantha. ‘Tom’s just bringing in the Willow Farm delivery. We’ve got parsnips and an early sprout crop. Winter’s on its way!’
‘Ooh, lovely,’ said Annie. ‘I’ll take some sprouts. They’ll be my first ones since February.’
When Tom emerged from out the back laden with boxes of veg, Annie helped herself to a scoop of Brussel sprouts and a bunch of raw beetroot.
‘Did you want to put your name down now for a turkey for Christmas?’ asked Tom. ‘I know it seems early but the farm likes to get an idea of numbers.’
This pulled Annie up short. Christmas! Whatwouldshe be doing for Christmas this year?
‘Can I have a think about it?’ said Annie. ‘My plans are somewhat fluid at the moment.’
‘Sure,’ said Tom, smiling. ‘No worries. Sam and I will be sampling the Christmas delights at The Captain’s Bounty this year.’
‘He doesn’t want to cook,’ called Samantha. ‘Lazy bugger!’
‘You cook it then!’ said Tom. He was smiling over at his wife.
‘He’s only saying that because he knows I can’t cook,’ said Samantha. ‘My talents lie outside of the kitchen.’ She winked at Annie and Tom shook his head, chuckling.
‘Seriously, though,’ said Tom, ‘you could do worse than booking yourself in at The Bounty for Christmas lunch, you know, if you’re going to be on your own...’
Annie promised to give it some thought. Christmas felt like a big balloon of a holiday, looming up suddenly between buildings and around corners to leer at her aloneness.
By mid-afternoon on Saturday, Annie was waxed and ready for her maybe/maybe not date with Paul. The skin around her bikini line still resembled a plucked goose but she supposed, if it came to it, at least it was better than the coir welcome mat she’d been sporting before.
