It won’t be midnight yet where you are, will it? Here am I shivering in my slippers and I bet you’ve been cooking yourself on the beach all day. I hope you’re having a lovely time in Florida with your mum. Whatever her faults, she always tried to do right by you so I’m trying not to resent her too much for stealing you away from me this once.
Our lovely Libby popped around to see me earlier. She’s such a darling girl, even with that mad hair of hers. Honestly, Beth, you should see her—it’s as scarlet as Santa’s suit. Poor Mick, she does drive him to distraction with her appearance. I wonder if he understands it’s all a front and beneath that hard shell she’s more soft and vulnerable than either you or Eliza. I know you see it too, so you must promise to take good care of her when I’m gone.
And so I find myself coming back to the point again, no matter how hard I try to avoid it, because if you’re reading this then it means my time is up. Hopefully, you won’t be reading this letter any time soon, and I’ve just got a silly case of the new year blues, but there are things I want you to know, things I should have explained to you, but have never quite got around to.
Dr Walsh keeps telling me to slow down, but what’s the point in that? We’ve been managing my angina for the past couple of years, and though the pills don’t work like they used to, there’s life in this old dog yet! He wants to me have surgery, but I can’t abide the idea of being cut open like that, and there are lots of people more deserving of the over-stretched resources of our lovely NHS than an old biddy like me.
It’s all right though, I’m quite ready. Oh, I shall miss you like the devil, and this place I’ve been lucky enough to call home for the past eighty-odd years, but I think I’m just about done.
I know you’ll be sad, my darling, and I wish more than anything I could be there with you now to give you a hug. You’ve brought so much joy to my life, I bless God every day for bringing you into this world. I’ve missed you, and I don’t say that to make you feel guilty, but it’s the truth. I can’t help but worry about you, Beth, because I know something’s happened and I wish you would talk to me about it.
Libby let slip about Charlie, but I don’t want to force you to talk about it, so we keep having those silly conversations when you tell me everything is fine, and I pretend to believe you. It’s like you’ve lost your sunshine, and I know how that feels. Perhaps you think I’m too old to understand a heartbreak, but of all the things I’ve forgotten over my life, that pain is the one thing which never seems to fade.
And that’s why I want to warn you, darling, not to let it take you over the way I once did until being on your own becomes a habit you cannot break. I loved him so much you see, so I never let myself get over it—and that’s a regret I’ll live with for whatever days and weeks remain to me. It might seem impossible now, but you must let the disappointment go. Promise me!
I’m going to be awful and make a dying request to you. I know it’s self-indulgent and I’ll play on your guilt if I have to, because this is important. Look for love, Beth. Keep your heart and your mind open, and don’t let your fear of being hurt hold you back. Life’s hard, it hurts so much sometimes it can be tempting to hide from it. Be as bold and vibrant as I know you can be, dearest, and know I’m looking down and cheering you on.
And so we come to the emporium. So many happy memories, I hope for you as well as me, but it’s okay to let it go. I’m leaving it to you with no strings attached. Keep it if you wish, but don’t you dare hang onto it just because you think that’s what I’d want you to do. I’ll come back and haunt the bloody place if you do!
If you are happy in London, then sell up with my blessing and use the money to give yourself a safety net. If you’re not, then maybe consider giving the bay a second chance. There’s so much to love about the place, so please think about coming home and letting it give you the comfort you need, even for a little while.
Right, enough rambling from me. I’m going to make myself a cup of cocoa, with as many marshmallows as I can cram into my mug. The best thing about this aging lark is I don’t have to worry about my waistline anymore!
With all my very fondest love, now and always.
Eleanor xxx
It was a crisp, cold morning, the type Sam knew from experience would draw walkers to the beach to watch the white-tops crashing over the rocks at the end of the bay. With any luck, the fresh salt air would encourage a few appetites. He made a mental note to stop in and see Pete at the butcher’s to add some extras to the meat order. He could already smell the rich scent of gravy oozing from the steak and kidney puddings his mum could knock together in her sleep. If he wanted one of those puddings, he needed to get on with his morning run. After adjusting the thin wool gloves on his hands, he tugged a knit cap down over his curls and began to jog along the promenade.
Come rain or shine, he never missed his run. It helped to clear the cobwebs away and set him up for the day. His route took him along one half of the prom, past the wide windows of Baycrest’s breakfast room where he turned up into the streets behind the seafront, around past the station and back down to the other end of the prom. The loop was a couple of miles in total and he loved the quiet solitude of the town before it woke for the day.
Slowing his pace as he approached Baycrest, he turned his head to check who was up and about. Pops was an early riser and this morning he was settled at one the small tables next to the window, sharing a pot of tea with Mrs Taylor. Sam had a theory about the pair of them, but he kept his face straight as he returned their waves of greeting and kept moving. Much as he’d adored his Nan, she’d passed a long time ago and if Pops could find some comfort in his twilight years, then good on him as far as Sam was concerned.
Halfway down Church Street, the hat and gloves were off, tucked inside the neck of his tracksuit top. Although it was too early for opening, the lights were on inside the butcher’s shop and he knocked on the window to get Pete’s attention. Bending at the waist whilst he waited for the older man to unlock the door, he stretched out his hamstrings with a few toe touches. The bell above the door rattled, and he straightened up with a smile. ‘Morning, Pete.’
The butcher grinned. ‘Morning, Sam lad. Bit of a brisk one this morning.’
Sam nodded. ‘But clear as far as the eye can see so I’m hoping for a few extra drop-ins. Can you do me about three kilos of braising steak and a dozen lamb kidneys?’
Pete’s eyes lit up. ‘You going to talk your mum into making puddings for lunch?’ When Sam nodded, the butcher grinned. ‘Make sure you save us a plate, I’ll be in around half one.’
‘Sounds good. I’ll join you if you don’t mind and we can maybe run through the menus for the next couple of weeks?’
Pete stuck out his hand. ‘Sounds good. Billy should be in within the next half hour, I’ll get your order together and he can drop it in to you, if that works?’ They still did things the old-fashioned way in Lavender Bay, and the butcher’s young assistant could often be seen peddling around the streets on a bike with a huge basket mounted on the front of it packed with paper-wrapped parcels of meat.
‘That would be a great help, thanks. We’ve got a new guest beer in, I’ll stand you a pint.’ With a wave, Sam picked up his pace once again.
By the time he turned the corner and began making his way back along the prom, he’d bumped into half a dozen local traders and sold them all on the promise of his mum’s steak
