Summer at Coastguard Cottages: a feel-good holiday read

Bruce squeezed her arm gratefully. ‘Talking of food, shall we turn round and get to the pub? I’m starving.’

By the time they got back to the pub the lunchtime rush was starting. Karen managed to grab a couple of seats at a window table while Bruce went to the bar to order and get their drinks. Half a lager for him and a glass of wine for her.

The pub had been one of her parents’ favourite lunchtime haunts and she remembered them dragging both her and her brother for lunchtime fish and chips whenever they were in Devon. They’d never complained about coming, even if as teenagers they’d found their parents’ company boring. The fish and chips were always worth it.

It was ages, though, since she’d eaten here. When Derek was down he always insisted on going to the fish restaurant in Dartmouth, and on her own she could rarely be bothered to drive out this way.

Derek. A few more days and he’d be here. Still no news on how long he was planning to stay. This last week being away from him had made her realise just how hyper-sensitive and tense she was whenever he was around. A fleeting visit would suit her better. Then she could relax and enjoy Wills’ company – and Francesca’s when she arrived.

‘You’re looking very serious,’ Bruce said, placing her glass of wine in front of her. ‘Did someone upset you?’

‘No,’ Karen said. ‘I was just thinking about…’ She hesitated, searching for something to say. She couldn’t tell Bruce yet what she’d really been thinking. ‘Food for when Wills gets here. Planning a welcome home dinner is a serious business. Cheers.’ Karen picked up her drink and took a sip. ‘You promised to tell me more about your plans today?’

‘I’m thinking of moving to The Bosun’s Locker permanently,’ Bruce said. ‘Selling my flat and doing something Gabby and I swore we’d never do – renovate something down here. I’ve seen a townhouse I rather fancy as a project. We liked keeping the business and our private lives separate, but now…’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t want to stay in town, or in the apartment with its memories, and I love it down here, so why not?’ He looked at Karen anxiously, seeking her reassurance.

‘Gosh. There are memories associated with the cottage and Gabby as well, though,’ Karen said. ‘You’ll have to live with those.’

‘I know. But I feel somehow it will be easier not having lived full-time down here. At least I won’t be sitting around staring at the wall, wondering what I’m going to do. Like I have been for the past months.’

Before Karen could answer, the waitress arrived with their lunch, carefully placing the plates on the table before asking, ‘Is there anything else? More drinks?’

When they both shook their heads and muttered ‘No thanks’, she beamed at them, said ‘Enjoy your meal’, and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

For several minutes the two of them concentrated on their fish and chips, enjoying them while they were hot.

‘You don’t have to stare at the walls in town. You could buy somewhere else in a different area and carry on with your business up there,’ Karen said eventually.

‘I know, but dealing with the same builders and interior designers, not to mention planning officers, will just serve to keep reminding me Gabby’s gone. Whereas down here I’d have to find a completely new team, deal with new officials, etcetera. I’m sure it would be easier.’

‘You could be right. But it’s a big change.’

‘It’ll take time to organise, of course. Selling the apartment, buying the townhouse. Probably be next year before it all came together.’

‘Putting business aside: what about friends and a social life? I know there’s lots going on out at the cottages in summer but winter is quiet.’

‘I’ve already got a few friends down here, so I’m sure I can build on that,’ Bruce said. ‘I’ll probably make more of an effort to socialise once I’m down here permanently.’

Karen picked up her wine glass and took a sip. ‘That last remark makes it sound as though you’ve made up your mind to do it.’

Bruce, realising what he’d said, smiled and picked up his lager. ‘You know what? I think I might have. God only knows whether it’s the right thing to do or not, but I’m going to give it my best shot. Cheers.’

‘Good luck. Here’s to the future.’

As Karen clinked glasses with Bruce, he said, ‘Thanks for listening. It always helps to have someone to bounce ideas off.’

‘You’re welcome any time,’ Karen said.

Bruce hesitated. ‘I’m more than willing to be a sounding board for you too, if you ever need it,’ he said quietly, looking at her. ‘I know you used to talk to Gabby – not that she ever told me what you talked about,’ he added quickly.

Karen drained her glass before replacing it on the table. ‘I know, thank you, but I’m good at the moment.’ And she smiled brightly at him. No point in talking to anyone until she’d worked out in her own head which way she wanted to go.

Bruce was right. She had talked to Gabby occasionally in the past, woman to woman, but it would be good to get a man’s unbiased point of view on things that were going on in her life. Sometime this summer she would talk about the logistics of her life with Bruce, knowing he would tell her the truth and give her sound advice, but today was not the day.

‘Whenever you’re ready, you know where to find me,’ Bruce said. ‘Now, how about dessert? I see they’ve got my favourite on the menu – apple pie and clotted cream.’

Week Two (#ulink_7ff032db-4612-5383-ad58-9de3d302e237)

Carrie gently placed Tibbles and her injured paw in the cat carrier, making sure the catch was secure before handing it over to her anxious owner.

‘Tibbles is doing well. Bring her in at the end of next week for a final check over,’ she said, showing the woman to the door.

Seven o’clock in the evening and Tibbles was the last patient of the day. Carrie could see Max, the senior vet, through the glass door of the other consulting room and gently tapped before opening it and going in.

‘Max, have you got time for a quick drink after work? I need to talk to you.’

‘Sure. Give me five and I’ll see you upstairs.’

Carrie had worked at the Countryside Veterinary Practice, in a large village on the Devon/Somerset border, for five years now, ever since she’d first qualified. The three of them – Max, the owner, Leo, his son and herself – dealt with a mixture of small domestic animals and farm animals. When Leo had married and moved out of the flat over the surgery into one of the new houses on the estate springing up at the far edge of the village, Max had offered it to her, and she’d lived there now for three years. Happy in her home and loving her job.

She glanced out of the window as she put the coffee on and prepared a plate of biscuits for Max, the view out over the surrounding countryside reminding her, as always, of the farm and home. She’d hate to live in a big, busy town. Rural life suited her fine.

‘Coffee smells good,’ Max said, coming into the kitchen. ‘So what’s up? You’ve not been your normal bubbly self since your day off. Did something happen then?’ He looked at her, concerned.

‘Mum and I had to go to Bristol to see a lawyer,’ Carrie said, pouring the coffee.

Max raised his eyebrows. ‘Sounds serious.’

Carrie nodded. ‘It is, but everyone tells me it’s good serious. Personally, I’m not convinced yet,’ she said. ‘I’ve never mentioned this to you before, but Mum and Dad adopted me when I was just days old. And I love them both to bits,’ she added fiercely. ‘They’re my parents.’

Max carefully dunked a biscuit in his coffee and ate it, his eyes never leaving her face.

‘Now, my hitherto unknown biological father has died, leaving, for some unfathomable reason, his entire estate to me,’ Carrie said. ‘And I so wish he hadn’t.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s going to change everything. Even if I give it away, set up a charitable trust or something, I’m for ever going to be wondering why a man I never met, and haven’t given a thought to in twenty-eight years, would leave me a fortune. Why didn’t he just leave everything to the local cats and dogs home?’ Carrie sighed. ‘Anyway, the main reason I wanted to talk to you is I’m going to need some time off.’

‘How long?’

‘Can I possibly extend my annual leave from three weeks to six? Starting at the end of this week? I’m happy to pay for a locum so you won’t be left in the lurch, but I really do need the time to sort things out and try to put things into perspective.’

Max waved his hand. ‘Don’t worry about the locum. But are six weeks going to be long enough?’

‘God, I certainly hope so,’ Carrie said. ‘I’m going to Bristol at the weekend again to check out the flat there I’ve inherited and try to decide what to do with it. And then at some stage I’ve got to get down to Devon to look at the property there.’

Max finished his coffee and put the cup down. ‘I’ll organise a locum tomorrow to start asap for an indefinite period so you can take your time and decide what’s best for you.’

‘Thanks, Max. And don’t worry, I’ll definitely be back at work on the 1