Page 67 of The Secret House of Honey and Hope

“How much forgiving and forgetting can we do?” Alastair asks.

“I think you should leave please.” I’m not even trying to be diplomatic; I just want them out before Hal comes.

But they don’t leave quickly, and their final words spoken just from the door are loud enough for everyone in the shop to hear.

“Now we’re allowing him to exploit the island to build holiday homes.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Hal

The post office is busy, but if I want my package and the sample ceramic tiles, I have to brave the queue of villagers and the very gossipy Mrs Parker.

She checks through her ledger for the delivery reference. I don’t believe for an instant that she doesn’t already have my parcel set aside, she’s just pretending to look so she can keep me chatting. “I hear you’ve been helping Hedge’s granddaughter with the new shop?” She asks.

Everyone looks around.

“Not just me. Everyone else.”

“What’s the new shop like? Old Hedge needed a feminine touch around Labri Catch. Doris is full of stories about the new changes.”

I have no idea who Doris is and asking would only keep Mrs Parker talking. So, I nod and sign for my package.

“And you’re payin’ fair wages for the building work on your house.”

How does she even know what I pay? The answer comes from someone in the queue behind me.

“The Malon brothers are good workers; they’ll do a decent job for you on Low Catch.” The man gives me a friendly nod.

Not long ago, people in this village turned their faces away when one of us walked by. Some went so far as to spit in the gutter. But things have begun to change a little. This will help allay some of my mother worries; she’s still convinced the Hemingway curse is going to catch up with me.

I’m still planning what to tell her as I walk off the stone bridge down Catcher Lane and see the yellow – ochre – sign over the garden gate with Bee Wild in swirly font. The sign hangs above the old bicycle by the garden gate, there are wildflowers potted in two wire baskets one hanging from the handlebars, the other behind the saddle. Someone has painted the bike a cheerful fuchsia. I’m suddenly very curious to see what other interesting touches Elodie has made to the shop’s interior. The time on my phone screen says 1:15pm, my builders will be breaking for lunch, so now is a good time. A fizz of anticipation quickens my step.

A man comes out of the shop but seeing me, he stops by the sign and waits. As I draw nearer, I realise it’s Myles de la Cour. A moment later two more men join him; they have their backs to me, but one of them is instantly recognisable by his head, a balding dandelion fluff ball. It’s the two hopeful property developers who tried to buy my house. They don’t see me because they’re focussed on Myles.

Their voices reach me even though I’m still several steps away. “You heard the talk inside. No one is going to be happy.”

“No wonder Hedge was so upset. Imagine Hemingway entering his own house pretending to help.”

My feet freeze. Myles’ gaze meets mine, but he says nothing to stop the other two talking and his face is very grim.

Dandelion-hair man, Morris I think, turns, and sees me. His lip curls and he nudges his friend.

“He’s got away with it for a month but now people know the truth about him, things will have to change.” He looks me up and down before turning back to Myles.

“I mean you can’t let that go on, the people on the island won’t stand for it, not now. You heard what Hedge said about the war and all that trouble.”

I’ve heard enough. I continue walking, right past them, past the honey shop. My jaw clenches so hard my teeth ache, but I manage to stride to my own front door without turning my face to see if they spit in the gutter.

I can’t believe it. But I should.

Even without my mother’s warningIsland people have long memories, andwhenever people began to forget, Hedge LeFevre always stirred up trouble against us.

And where does Elodie come into all this? I really believed her when she talked about being friends, and we did seem to get on very well by Saturday night. Not anymore it would seem. Not now Hedge LeFevre reopened the Nazi can of worms. Now, she will see me with different eyes.

Not that it matters. I didn’t come here to make friends and won’t be here long enough to keep them. The trick of not being rejected is to get your rejection in first. La Canette and its memories and prejudices can jump into the sea, for all I care.

I spend the rest of the day in a laser-sharp focus on my work. And my money problems. The truth is my finances are not as secure as I told my sister. This extended break from my normal job has forced me to live on my savings, and the building project is haemorrhaging money.

---