Page 35 of The Beach Cottage
“That’s understandable,” Bea replied, trying to imagine how she’d feel if she didn’t know the identity of one of her parents. It would be a constant itching at the back of her mind, pushing her to learn the truth.
She continued reading. “Look at this. It says there was a possible witness, a Mrs Betsy Norton.”
All of the women exchanged a curious glance.
“What are the chances…?” Penny crossed her arms over her chest. “We spoke to her yesterday about her granddaughter, and now we’re running across her name in the newspaper as a possible witness to my grandmother’s murder.”
“That’s a very strange coincidence,” Taya admitted.
“It’s very bizarre, but probably doesn’t mean anything. Although I’m surprised she’s never mentioned it,” Evie added, her nose wrinkling. “Should we talk to her about it?”
“I don’t see why not,” Bea said.
“But wouldn’t she have told us before now if she wanted us to know?” Penny asked.
“You’d think so, but then it did happen a long time ago.”
“I’ve spoken with her a hundred times in my life, and she’s never mentioned she knew anything about my grandmother’s death,” whispered Penny.
“I don’t think we should jump to any conclusions until we speak to her,” Bea said in her most comforting tone. “Let’s wait to hear the facts.”
On her way back to the cottage, Bea stopped by her father’s house to see if Harry and Dani were there. They were, the three of them playing a game of Scrabble together on the deck. Beatrice poked her head through the back door and asked if anyone would like a drink, since she was making one for herself, and all three turned her down, as they had glasses dotted around the table already.
Relieved at not having to serve anyone else for at least a few more minutes, she mixed herself a pitcher of sangria and carried that with an empty glass out to the deck, then sat with a grunt.
“That’s a big drink you have there.” Dad offered her a raised eyebrow.
She sighed. “I’ve had a big day.”
When her glass was full, she gulped a mouthful of sangria, then put her feet up on an empty chair to look out over the cliff to the ocean beyond. The world was right again — the peacefulness of the coastal scene soothed her soul, and the company renewed her strength.
“It’s good to be home,” she murmured.
“Did you have a good day, Mum?” Dani asked.
“It was busy.”
“I’ll come in and help again tomorrow morning, if you like.”
“That would be great. Thanks.”
Harry smiled at her. “Can I do anything to help?”
“Would you like to make dinner? Because I don’t think I can stand up for another minute.”
“Happy to — I make a fantastic frozen pizza.”
“Perfect,” she replied.
After she’d rested a while, she got up and went inside to put on some music. A relaxing melody floated through the surround sound speaker system, and she lay on the couch, eyes shut, to let it wash over her. She didn’t know or care who the artist was—she loved to enjoy music that slackened her jaw, loosened her tight muscles and helped ease away the tension of the day.
She felt her father’s presence before he spoke. He settled into his armchair, and the leather creaked.
“How are you coping with it all?”
“It’s fine. I’ll get there. I love the space, and the people are wonderful. I can try out recipes and bake, and other people enjoy it, so there’s a lot of satisfaction in it. I’m tired—that’s all.”
“Understandable. I’m coming over tomorrow to do those jobs around the place you asked me to do.”
