been a bit neglected for a while, but if you decide to stay, we could start doing it up together.’
I swallowed. I had the chance to live in the house I’d loved so much growing up, basking in all the fantastic memories that had been made here. However, to do that, I’d have to confront everything that made me leave Luna Bay behind. I wasn’t sure I was ready to do that just yet.
‘Yeah that’d be lovely. I just don’t know where to start!’
I couldn’t meet Mum’s gaze. I badly wanted to tell her about losing my job but the words died in my mouth.
‘It could be a nice little project,’ she continued, walking into the living room. ‘You could stay at home until it’s ready to live in, then do the rest up as you go along.’
The urge to tell her everything resurfaced again. I tried my best to tamp it down; no good could come of telling her I’d lied. Following her into the living room I caught sight of the breath-taking views of Luna Bay Beach through the stunning French windows that led out to the garden. I walked over to them and my fingers brushed against the ornate silver handle, making the door open a little. I looked out and allowed myself to drink in my surroundings. The sea gently lapped against the shore and a few families and dog walkers making the most of the fresh but chilly spring day were dotted along the vast cove. The sand stretched out into a thin ribbon as it curled around to the imposing black cliffs. It was only after seeing it again after so long that I realised how much I’d missed it.
This view, this life, it could all be mine again. All I had to do was reach out and grab it.
‘Some view eh?’ Mum echoed my thoughts and came over to stand beside me. ‘This room could be lovely if it was done up right. Just think, you could sit here with a glass of wine at night and look out at the sea –’
But as soon as she said that out loud I snapped. The weight of the decision I had to make, plus the strain of keeping my sacking a secret became too much to bear.
‘Don’t, OK, don’t! I moved away for a reason and you know that. I can’t come back here.’
‘That was a long time ago Lucy, things have moved on a lot since then!’ Mum’s voice was tired and weary. One look at her face and you could see the desperation etched into it.
I sighed and moved a few paces away from her, heading back towards the front door.
‘No they haven’t, not really. I saw Maggie Cunningham at Nana Lily’s wake yesterday and she certainly hasn’t moved on! Not that I can really blame her after what happened.’
I trailed off, stopping short of mentioning the terrible tragedy of eight years ago, the events that tore me away from the corner of the world I loved so much.
‘You need to stop blaming yourself for that!’ Mum said, calmly making me stop. ‘It all happened so long ago now and nobody could have stopped it. What happened to Vicky was tragic, but it was an accident. Nana Lily said she didn’t blame you in her letter and nobody else round here does either. Maggie might still hold a grudge and that’s not entirely surprising because of what happened, but for everyone else in this village time has moved on Lucy. I’d love to have you back here and not have to hop on a train for hours when I fancy seeing you. Just think about it, eh?’
I could see the pleading in her eyes and it broke my heart. She’d just lost her mother and I knew how much it meant to her to have me home – but, I’d gotten used to the idea of being invisible, of losing myself in London’s urban sprawl. When I was there, nobody had to know what I’d done or how it had wrecked people’s lives. Guilt had kept me away from Luna Bay for so long and it was about to force me back to the purgatory of London again. But things were pretty much ruined there now: I’d be going back to no job and probably no flat either.
Yet Fate had thrown me a very intriguing yet impractical option… to return to this beautiful place with its dark secrets and bad memories. I definitely couldn’t stay here. Could I?
I heard a rustling noise coming from the corner of the room. Mum was rummaging through one of Nana Lily’s numerous boxes of things. Although she’d lived in a nursing home for the last portion of her life, most of her possessions had been kept at Rose Cottage.
‘Look at this,’ she said, peering at a slightly crumpled photograph. ‘It says “me and the Broken Hearts Book Club, December ’08.” That woman at the top is Diane from the Moonlight Café and that fella’s Frank who runs the corner shop. God, there’s quite a few familiar faces here!’
I went over and picked up the photo, but when I looked at the group of people in the photo I was hit with an overwhelming sense of grief. They were all smiling but I could tell none of them were truly happy. Their smiles were nothing more than masks used to convince the world they were OK when they weren’t. Some of them were faces I’d grown up with, whilst others weren’t so familiar. I’d gone to Frank’s shop for ten pence mixtures as a kid and Diane’s café had been the scene of many birthday treats. My relationship with her wasn’t the best any more though; she was Mrs Cunningham’s best friend and had taken her side after the accident.
And suddenly I knew, just by looking into their eyes, that I had to check out the Broken Hearts Book Club – even if it was just to see why they meant so much to Nana Lily. Diane probably wouldn’t make me feel very welcome, but I had to satisfy my own curiosity. Although I didn’t want to admit it, a strange excitement began to brew inside me. I began to wonder about the members and what their stories might be.
One thing was for certain though: I definitely wasn’t looking to take Nana Lily up on her posthumous offer to lead them and live in Luna Bay. As much as I loved Rose Cottage and the magical memories it conjured up, I couldn’t come back.
No way.
Here’s an important lesson to learn about my dad: if he says he’ll have something sorted out in no time, don’t listen to him under any circumstances.
Mum and I returned from our trip to Rose Cottage to find the house even more flooded than when we’d left. According to Dad, the damp patch that had looked fit to burst had, well, burst.
‘I poked at it with the end of a paint roller and there was more water in it than I’d thought!’ he said with a bright, wide grin. ‘It’s fine though, bit of plaster will sort it – no problem!’
Mum stared around her at the sodden carpets, walls and furniture, looking absolutely horrified.
‘You said you’d sort it! Look at it, there’s no way we can stay here! What are we going to do?’
‘Don’t you worry,’ Dad replied. ‘I’ve got a plan! I phoned The Purple Partridge and spoke to that nice young man who runs it. Jake, his name is. You’ll like him, Lucy. He’s going to let us stay there for a couple of nights while the place dries out.’
Oh wonderful, I thought, I epically embarrass myself in front of the sexy barman by running out on him and now I’ll have to face him again.
Then again, I said to myself with a smile, the thought of seeing those gorgeous arm muscles wasn’t entirely unpleasant…
After a lot of hasty packing, the four of us traipsed over to The Purple Partridge where Fitty McFitterson – who I now knew as Jake – greeted
