Page 38 of The Key to the Last House Before the Sea

NESSA

Nessa wandered past the weathered gravestones, towards the church that had been at the heart of Heaven’s Cove for centuries. She sat on a wooden bench that faced the sea – a flash of blue between cottages – and pulled her phone from her pocket.

A sparrow landed at her feet and pecked at breadcrumbs scattered across the ground as she tried to calm down.

Time was rushing by so she should make the call. But first she needed to slow her racing thoughts.

Her whole life seemed to be on fast-forward at the moment and filled with significant events that could shape the rest of her life with Lily: her grandmother’s death; losing her job and her home; Gabriel’s plans for the Ghost Village.

Her thoughts lingered on Gabriel and the way his demeanour had changed after he’d read the lease. He’d been perfectly civil up until that point, even offering her his spare scone. And he’d looked quite handsome, with the sun warming his office-pale face.

Nessa shook her head. He’d only been civil because he hadn’t believed her vow at breakfast to thwart his plans. But after reading the lease, he appeared to have changed his mind.

Gabriel was worried she could be a thorn in his side, and Jackson’s opinion of the lease had been positive. But the only person who held the key to the whole crazy scheme right now was her former employer, Desmond Scaglin.

Nessa looked across the churchyard, at the tall grass being ruffled by the breeze snaking between the gravestones. Would Mr Scaglin ride to the rescue, metaphorically speaking?

It was something Jackson said that had given her the idea to ask him for help.

Do you know what’s happening to Scaglin’s building? The last time I peeked inside, the place still needed a final clear-out.

Nessa pulled her mobile from her bag, dialled a number and listened to a phone ringing many miles away.

Finally, when she was just about to ring off, a familiar voice said: ‘Hello? Who is it?’

‘Hello, Mr Scaglin.’ Although Nessa had worked in his shop for years, he’d never invited her to call him by his first name. ‘It’s Nessa here. I hope it’s OK to give you a call. How are you?’

‘Nessa? How lovely to hear from you.’

He sounded delighted, though his voice was quivery. He sounded much older than the tired but fairly sprightly man who’d closed his store for the last time just a few weeks ago.

‘How are you doing in Tiverton?’

‘Oh, you know. It’s good to be near my family but I do miss going into work every day.’

‘Me too. But it must be nice for you to have a rest.’

‘I suppose so, though the days seem very long. My daughter calls in every lunchtime but I miss my friends.’ He paused. ‘I’m not sure that moving from Heaven’s Cove was the right thing at my age, but it’s too late now. What’s done is done.’

Nessa’s heart broke for the man. He’d driven her bats with his inflexible attitude to punctuality and his eccentric stock-ordering – who in Heaven’s Cove wanted plastic roses that played the national anthem or draught excluders shaped like dragons? But he’d taken a chance on employing her when she was a single mum with a young child, and she’d be forever grateful to him for that.

‘Why don’t Lily and I come over to Tiverton soon to see your new place and say hello?’ she said, worrying where the money for the journey would come from but determined to make the trip.

‘Oh.’ He sounded taken aback. ‘Would you do that? It would be lovely to see you and Lily, and to hear all about the goings-on in Heaven’s Cove. How is Lily doing?’

‘She’s fine, thank you.’

‘And have you found another job?’

‘Not yet, but there are some possibilities,’ lied Nessa, who’d spent the previous evening trawling through the latest job opportunities. She’d applied for a couple in retail but most jobs advertised were incompatible with being a single parent as the school holidays approached. And she couldn’t rely on Valerie long term for childcare.

‘Well, I wish you luck.’ Mr Scaglin cleared his throat, as though he wasn’t keen to ask the next question. ‘Can you tell me what’s happening with the shop? The landlord hasn’t been very forthcoming.’

‘It still says “Shelley’s” outside and the stock you left hasn’t been cleared. Maybe the landlord is having trouble finding someone to take over the premises.’

‘At the rents he charges, I’m not surprised.’

‘Actually…’ Nessa hesitated. ‘I’m taking on a DIY project and wondered if it would be OK if I nabbed some of the leftover stock that hasn’t sold? I’m afraid I can’t afford to pay for it right now but I could pay you back in instalments.’

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