Page 61 of Secrets at the Last House Before the Sea

CHAPTER 18

Liam finished piling up the Savoy cabbages and stood back to make sure they weren’t going to topple over. They seemed secure enough. He smiled at the sight of his stall, which was a rainbow of colour – carrots, parsnips, spring greens and spinach, many of the vegetables still sporting a thin coating of rich, red Devon soil.

Around him, other stallholders were setting up, ready to sell produce to the tourists and locals who flocked into Heaven’s Cove for the monthly Farmers’ Market. Though ‘farmers’ was a broad church these days. Stalls selling face creams and massage oils jostled for space with potters and jewellery makers.

‘Morning, Liam. Nice day for it.’ Peter tipped his hat and continued on his way down to the sea. He’d be ferrying tourists around the bay for hours – mid-week market day was always busy, especially when the sea was like a millpond. There wasn’t even a hint of a breeze this morning to ruffle the waves.

‘My, my. That’s looking good, Liam.’ Belinda stopped to run her hand across the display of cabbages, which wobbled alarmingly. ‘We’re blessed with the weather so let’s pray for a good turnout. What do you think of the sash?’

She turned slowly on the spot, so Liam could better see the shiny blue sash that draped from one shoulder to the opposite hip.Support Your Village Hall!was picked out across the fabric in large gold letters. A collecting tin was hanging from her arm. ‘We’re raising funds to buy a new hot water boiler in the kitchen.’

‘The sash looks great. I’m sure a lot of people will donate.’

‘No one will escape me,’ muttered Belinda, in a tone that made Liam think she was probably right. She stepped a little closer and her shoulders slumped. Oh no, the blessed head tilt was on its way. Liam moved quickly behind his stall as Belinda’s head dropped to one side.

‘And how are you doing now the first anniversary is well behind you, Liam, honestly?’

Honestly? He was still lonely, heartbroken and humiliated. He’d always been confident around women, cocky even, so maybe he’d had it coming. But no one around here was ever going to let him forget what happened. He’d hoped that the sympathy brigade would have moved on by now to other poor unfortunates, but the anniversary seemed to have galvanised them all over again.

‘I’m absolutely fine, thank you, Belinda. There’s no need to worry about me.’ Liam gave her one of his sunniest smiles. The one that used to make Deanna’s heart miss a beat, or so she’d led him to believe.

‘If you’re sure. Isn’t Tom helping you out today?’

‘He’s busy on the farm. There’s a lot to do and we’re rather behind.’

‘Then I’d better leave you to get on with things because the hordes are about to descend.’

She wandered off to harangue some other stall holder, much to Liam’s relief. Hewasgoing to be busy without Tom to give him a hand, but at least that meant none of the locals could linger for a sympathetic chat and head tilt.

Two hours later, Liam was desperate for a coffee. A rich, aromatic scent was wafting through the market from the coffee stall near the quay and driving him crazy. But there was no way he could abandon his stall when so many people were milling around. He couldn’t afford to lose any sales.

‘I’d better buy you out of carrots to thank you for your help at Driftwood House.’

When he looked up, Rosie was standing there in jeans and a baggy jumper, even though the sun was high in the sky and he’d stripped down to his T-shirt an hour ago. She looked tired because she’d been working all hours on the house for almost four weeks now, and the Eppings were due to visit the day after tomorrow and give their verdict.

Liam had continued to help her out when he could, and the hours spent together had made him value her company all the more. She was peaceful to be around and, painting barefoot and fresh-faced in her jeans, much less high maintenance than most women he knew. He’d even told her a little more about his relationship with Dee, and she’d confided in him how out of place she’d often felt in Heaven’s Cove, which made him sad. His heart still felt unsteady at times, when she gave him her slow smile or giggled, but he’d given himself a good talking to and had got a grip. They were simply friends.

Behind Rosie, tourists were milling about and several were getting out their purses. Today was going to be a bumper day for selling produce, which was great, but he needed a break. When she smiled again, he started untying the canvas apron he was wearing.

‘You could buy carrots or you could do me a favour and watch the stall for five minutes while I get a coffee. What do you reckon?’

‘OK.’ She looked taken aback, but pleased, as she pushed her sunglasses further into her hair. ‘What do I need to do?’

‘It’s pretty simple. Here are the scales, the prices are displayed, and the cash box is here. Thanks. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

There was a huddle of people around the stall when he hurried back, ten minutes later, revived with coffee. He would have been back sooner but the market was buzzing, and moving quickly through the crowds was impossible. Hopefully, Rosie hadn’t been overwhelmed. She seemed to be doing just fine.

He paused by the organic herbs stall and watched while she shovelled parsnips into a brown paper bag and gave a tourist his change. She’d put on the apron and twisted her hair into a ponytail. Having her hair up suited her, and she looked relaxed and happy as she chatted with customers.

She spotted him as he weaved his way back to the stall and raised her hand to give him a wave.

‘Thank you, and sorry that was a long five minutes. The queue for the coffee stall was mad. Here, I got you a drink to show my appreciation.’

‘Thanks. It’s quietened down a bit now but it’s been really busy. You need two of you on here, really.’

‘Tom usually lends me a hand on market day but we’re flat out on the farm at the moment.’

Rosie sipped from her cardboard cup and squinted at him through the steam. ‘You’re flat out because you’ve been taking time out to help me. Let me return the favour and give you a hand for a change.’

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