Page 32 of The Beach Cottage
Penny held her breath for a moment. Should she say something? If she did, she knew exactly what would happen—her beautiful friends would offer to help. She also knew none of them could afford it. No, she should keep her troubles to herself. Bothering other people with her mistakes wasn’t fair to them.
“Oh, nothing,” she replied. “Don’t mind me.”
“How’s that delicious nemesis of yours going?” Evie’s eyes twinkled with delight.
Penny huffed. “He’s not delicious.”
“Um…” Bea sipped her coffee.
“Well, maybe he is. But I don’t think of him that way. And he’s fine. He visited, and we had a really nice talk.”
“Well, that is good news.” Evie took a bite out of a small purple macaron. “Wow, Bea, you’ve outdone yourself. This is divine.”
Bea’s cheeks pinked. “Thank you. So glad you like it. I’ve been working on perfecting that recipe for years.”
“I think you’ve done it.” Evie winked at her friend.
“I had another visitor that same day,” Penny continued as she picked up a small caramel slice. She took a bite and almost forgot her train of thought as the sweetness filled her mouth.
“Oh, yes?” Bea enquired, one eyebrow quirked.
Penny swallowed. “A little girl, Samantha Norton. Do you know her?”
Bea shook her head. Evie’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think so, but that name is familiar.”
“Isn’t Norton Betsy’s last name?” Bea asked.
“That’s right,” Penny agreed. “I asked her if she knew Betsy, but she said no. Anyway, she looks a bit neglected, and I keep seeing her around the place on her own during school hours. It seems like no one is making her go to school or taking care of her while her dad’s at work.”
“How old is she?” Bea asked, then sipped her coffee.
“She told me she’s ten. But she looks younger, I think. Not that I’m an expert on the subject. But she’s very thin.”
“We should ask Betsy about it. Maybe she’ll know more.” Evie set down her coffee cup and crossed her arms.
“I really want to do something. I don’t think she has a mother in her life.”
“I’m going to see if Betsy’s around.” Bea quickly sent a text message. Her phone dinged almost immediately. “She says she’s shopping next door and will be right over.”
A few minutes later, after they’d talked about Bea’s children and their visit, Betsy appeared at the front door. She hurried to their table, out of breath, her wild grey curls flung in every direction, and sat down with a humph. She wore a brightly coloured tunic and leather sandals, with a thin silk scarf wound loosely around her neck.
“It’s hot out there today. Hard to believe it’s almost winter, I wish summer would give up already and leave.”
Penny laughed. “I know what you mean. We only get two seasons here, and they’re almost identical.”
They all exchanged pleasantries, and after Bea got a coffee for Betsy and there was a lapse in conversation, Penny spoke up.
“Betsy, I met a little girl a few days ago called Samantha Norton. She wouldn’t be related to you by any chance, would she?”
Betsy’s face paled. “You met Sam?”
Penny hesitated. “Uh, yes. Are you okay?”
Betsy leaned back in her chair. “I’m fine. I haven’t seen her in a while, that’s all.”
“She said she didn’t know you.”
Betsy shrugged. “She wouldn’t remember. It was a long time ago.”
