The Little Kiosk By The Sea: A Perfect Summer Beach Read

Moving into the sitting room, with its large patio doors opening onto the terrace, it struck her how at home she was beginning to feel in the house. Something she hadn’t expected to feel in such a short time. But here were no memories lurking in every room to pull her up, to remind her how different her life had been just a few short months ago. Coming back was looking increasingly like it had been the right decision. She was living life on her own terms. For the first time in months she realised she was … not happy exactly, more like content.

The coffee morning was already in full swing in the charity shop when Rachel arrived. She pushed her way carefully through the crowd to the small cafe area and put her cake on the table. As she’d feared, placed next to a plate of expertly decorated cupcakes and a professional-looking carrot cake with a frosted topping, her chocolate cake did indeed look amateurish.

‘Hi, thanks for this’ Susannah said, immediately cutting it into slices. ‘People always go for chocolate – especially the ones that look so obviously homemade. Are you okay to stay and help for a while? Could do with a hand feeding the hordes.’

‘Sure,’ Rachel said. Half an hour later, as things started to quieten down, she was pleased to see only a single slice of chocolate cake left. Couldn’t have been that bad then. Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she stood back and looked around.

She already recognised one or two faces. The lady from the library, the girl from the post office, even the traffic warden had popped in for a quick coffee. Two elderly ladies were talking quietly together as they browsed the book section. Parts of their conversation drifted over to Rachel.

‘Sad she had to die in the nursing home. Can’t help wondering what’s going on with her estate now though.’

‘Didn’t have any relatives, did she?’

‘A twin brother. Not that he visited much, even when she was ill. They fell out years ago. Think he died recently too.’

‘Maybe she left all her money to charity.’

‘Wouldn’t be surprised. She always was a close one. Wouldn’t mind her house. If it comes on the market, might go and take a look. Got wonderful views. Bet it’ll be expensive though, nothing ever comes cheap in Swannaton. Oh look what I’ve found, an Erica James. Have to buy it. Love her books.’ And the two women moved away.

Rachel’s hand shook as she replaced her coffee cup on the table. Was the woman they were talking about the one person she’d dreaded bumping into ever since she’d arrived here? Guiltily Rachel hoped it was. It would mean there was no chance of them meeting unexpectedly. It couldn’t just be coincidence. How many women living in Swannaton had a recently deceased twin brother?

The final link in town to her past would have been severed. With no-one left to drag them out of her cupboard and dangle them in front of her, her skeletons could finally be laid to rest.

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_09012b60-8020-5027-a66f-5081847237a8)

ELLIE

The day Ellie Lewis was made redundant from her job as features editor with a famous women’s magazine, turned out to be the day her relationship with Rod Vicars also fell apart. Ellie berated herself for weeks for not seeing either event coming.

She’d known, of course, about the redundancies sweeping through the industry, but had stupidly assumed her job was safe. Even consoled her friend Sally with the words, ‘Think of it as a new opportunity’ when she’d received the dreaded summons. Now she had her own unwanted new opportunity to deal with.

Andy, the editor, had been apologetic as he’d given her the news, saying he’d tried to save her job but ‘upstairs’ had refused. ‘Given you a generous package though,’ he’d added. As if that made all the difference. She needed to work.

Clearing her desk and packing up her personal stuff in the box thoughtfully provided alongside her redundancy notice took five minutes in the strangely quiet office with everybody conspicuously studying their screens rather than look at her.

‘I’m not bloody contagious,’ she muttered. But maybe redundancy was?

Estelle, the fashion editor, late to work as usual, took in the scene instantly when she arrived.

‘Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,’ she said, enveloping Ellie in a hug. ‘What a shock. You all right?’ She held Ellie at arms’-length and studied her critically. ‘Take a few days holiday, get Rod to spoil you. You’ll bounce back. Give me a ring next week – we’ll have lunch.’

‘Thanks, Estelle. Would you like this?’ Ellie held out the orchid plant that had sat on her desk all year without a single flower. ‘You might have more luck with it than me.’

She picked up the box and her laptop and called out, ‘Bye, everyone. Good luck!’ before walking out of the office without a backward glance.

Ellie decided to walk home via the park rather than take the bus. The box wasn’t heavy and her laptop bag was comfy across her shoulder. After all, there was nothing to rush for and the sun was shining. The takeaway chalet near the lake was open and she treated herself to a Danish pastry and a coffee. Necessary comfort food.

Sitting on a wooden bench and watching mums and their children feed the ducks, Ellie started to think things through. Ever practical, she counted the plusses currently in her life. One, she had a roof over her head. Two, she was in a loving relationship. Although that had been a bit strained recently with them both being so busy. A short time off work would give her the opportunity to spoil Rod. She’d start by cooking his favourite meal tonight – coq au vin. Maybe he’d open one of his special red wines that he kept in a box under his bed. They could at least drink to the future. Once she’d dumped her stuff off at home, she’d do a supermarket shop and stock the cupboards. Three, the redundancy cheque was enough to live on for at least three months – even taking into account her share of the high rent for their serviced flat.

Right, that was the pros taken care of. Now for the cons. One, she was unemployed. Two, there weren’t a lot of jobs around at the moment. Three, she couldn’t actually think of a third. The first two were bad enough. What if she didn’t get a job for months and months? Would Rod even consider moving to a non-serviced flat where he actually had to do something like take the rubbish to the bin rather than just put the black bag outside the door for the caretaker to pick up? Unlikely.

He’d lived in the modern, minimalistic flat for two years now. Ellie had moved in with him just six months ago at his suggestion. At first she’d tried to add some of her own touches – a scarlet throw over the settee to bring some colour into the black and white decor, a picture or two but Rod hated them. The only things he tolerated were her candles and two scarlet cushions – and then only when she protested it was her home too.

Even with her contributing to the rent, he moaned every month about the extortionate charges. Somehow she couldn’t see him agreeing to give up the apartment and rent a cheaper one because she’d lost her job and couldn’t afford to contribute. As far as he was concerned, his address was a status symbol. On the other hand, he might wave his hand airily, tell her not to worry, he’d look after her – and pick the rent up. Ellie sighed. Rod never had been one with the expansive gestures.

Ellie finished the pastry and threw the remains of the cold coffee on the grass. She’d have the rest of the week off and then next week she’d refresh her CV and start job-hunting in earnest. Maybe register with an agency for some temp work. See if there were any freelancing opportunities around.

Rod was in the sitting room, tapping hard on his laptop when she got home.

‘I didn’t realise you were working from home today,’ she said.

‘Have to see a client round the corner in …’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Hell, in five minutes. Got to go.’

He snapped his laptop shut, glanced at his phone and was halfway out of the door before asking, ‘What are you doing home anyway?’

Ellie shrugged. Now was not the right moment to break the bad redundancy news. ‘Tell you later. Hope they sign on the dotted line.’

‘Thanks. See you about six then.’

But it was gone seven when Rod arrived home that evening. Ellie had set the table, lit a couple of candles and generally tried to make the apartment as cosy as she could for an intimate dinner before she told Rod about losing her job. The coq au vin, though, was in danger of becoming dehydrated despite the extra half bottle of merlot she’d poured over it.

Ellie took one look at Rod’s face as he saw the table and the candles and knew there was something wrong.

‘This is a bit OTT for a Monday evening, isn’t it? We celebrating something?’ he asked.

‘No. I just had time today so I thought I’d spoil us both with a nice dinner. It’s been ages since we had an evening like this,’ Ellie said, handing him a glass of wine. As they chinked glasses, she said, ‘Not since the first month of me moving into the flat really. We’ve both been too busy.’

‘And today you’re not?’

‘No. I’m redundant,’ Ellie said, wishing she’d waited a bit longer before announcing it so bluntly, but the words had come out of her mouth of their own accord.

‘Ah. Well I’ve got some job news too.’

‘Oh god – you’re not redundant too?’ If he was, the flat would definitely have to go. No way could they afford to keep it on. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘I’ve been promoted to Branch Manager.’

‘Oh that’s brilliant,’ Ellie said, raising her glass in a toast. Judging by the long hours Rod had been putting in recently, she’d guessed the housing market was picking up. The prestigious estate agency he worked for must have realised how good he was at selling houses. At least he’d be earning more money while she found another job. ‘Which branch?’

‘Manchester.’

‘Where?’

‘Manchester.’

Ellie waved her hand in disbelief. ‘I heard you the first time.’ She picked up the merlot bottle and topped up her glass. ‘When did this all kick off?’

‘Couple of weeks ago. Nothing definite until this week.’