lights…What do you do with yourself all day long?’
‘Me? Well, there’s the library and the shopping, and all the chores, and we’re beginning to know more people now.’
‘You don’t get bored? My mother likes living here; it’s a splendid place for elderly widows: nice hotels, bridge, coffee, reading a good book in the sun, gossiping—but you are rather young for that.’
‘I’ve been coming here ever since I was a small girl. It’s a kind of a second home, although most of the people I knew have left the town. But I’m quite content.’
They went to their table and ate lobster and a complicated ice cream pudding, and finished a bottle of white wine between them, lingering over their coffee until Emma said, ‘I really must go home. Mother insisted that she would wait up for me and she sleeps badly.’
‘I’m going back on Friday. But I’m told there’s a good pub at Hope Cove. Will you have lunch with me there? I’ll pick you up around twelve-thirty?’
‘Thank you, that would be nice. If you like walking we could go along the beach if the tide’s out.’
‘Splendid. I’ll walk you back.’
They parted at the cottage door in a friendly fashion, though Emma was aware that he only sought her company because he was bored and didn’t know anyone else…
Her mother was in her dressing gown, eager for an account of her evening.
‘You’ll go out with him again if he asks you?’ she enquired eagerly.
‘I’m having lunch with him on Friday.’ Emma yawned and kicked off her best shoes. ‘He’s going back to London; I think he is bored here.’
‘Mrs Craig was telling me that she wishes he would settle down…’
‘Well, he won’t here; that’s a certainty.’ Emma kissed her mother goodnight and went to bed, aware that her mother had hoped for more than a casual friendship with Brian.
He is still a boy, thought Emma sleepily, and allowed her thoughts to turn to Dr van Dyke who, she suspected, was very much a man.
Miss Johnson was still grumpy on Thursday evening, but since it was pay day Emma forgave her. Besides, she was kept busy by people wanting books for the weekend. She felt quite light-hearted as she went home, her wages in her purse, planning something tasty for the weekend which wouldn’t make too large a hole in the housekeeping.
Friday was warm and sunny, and she was out early to do the weekend shopping for there would be no time on Saturday. Her mother was going out to lunch with one of her new-found friends and Emma raced around, getting everything ready for cooking the supper and, just in case Brian wanted to come back for tea, she laid a tea tray.
He came promptly and they walked through the town to the car park. He drove up the road bordering the estuary onto the main road and then turned off to Hope Cove. The road was narrow now, running through fields, with a glimpse of the sea. When they reached the tiny village and parked by the pub there were already a number of cars there.
The pub was dark and oak-beamed and low-ceilinged inside, and already quite full.
Brian looked around him. ‘I like this place—full of atmosphere and plenty of life. What shall we eat?’
They had crab sandwiches, and he had a beer and Emma a glass of white wine, and since there was no hurry they sat over the food while he told her of his work.
‘Of course I could never leave London,’ he told her. ‘I’ve a flat overlooking the river and any number of friends and a good job. I shall have to come and see Mother from time to time, but a week is about as much as I can stand.’ He added, ‘Don’t you want to escape, Emma?’
‘Me? Where to?’
‘Mother told me that you lived in Richmond. You must have had friends…’
‘My father went bankrupt,’ she said quietly. ‘Yes, we had friends—fair-weather friends. And we’re happy here. Mother has made several new friends, so she goes out quite a lot, and I’m happy.’ She went on, ‘If you’ve finished, shall we walk along the cliff path for a while? The view is lovely…’
She hadn’t been quite truthful, she reflected, but she sensed that Brian was a young man who didn’t like to be made uneasy. He would go back to his flat and his friends, assuring himself that her life was just what she wanted.
They drove back to Salcombe presently, parked the car at the hotel and walked back through the town.
Outside the bakery Emma stopped. ‘Don’t come any further,’ she suggested. ‘If you are going back today I expect you want to see your mother before you go. I enjoyed lunch; Hope Cove is a delightful little place. I hope you have a good journey back home.’
‘I’ll leave within the hour; it’s quite a long trip. I’ll be glad to get back. Life’s a bit slow here, isn’t it? I wish we could have seen more of each other, but I expect you’ll still be here if and when I come again.’
‘Oh, I expect so.’ She offered a hand and he took it and kissed her cheek.
Dr van Dyke, coming round the corner, stopped short, wished them a cheerful hello and gave Emma a look to send the colour into her cheeks. It said all too clearly that she hadn’t wasted much time in finding someone to take Derek’s place.
He went into the baker’s, and she bade a final hasty goodbye to Brian and almost ran to the cottage. The doctor would think…She didn’t go too deeply into what he would think; she hoped that she wouldn’t see him again for a very long time.
It was a brilliant morning on Saturday, and already warm when she got to Mrs Brooke-Tigh’s house, collected her cleaning brushes and cloths and started on her chores. From a bedroom window she watched Mrs Brooke-Tigh go down the lane, swinging her beach bag. On Saturday mornings she went to the hotel at the other end of the town, which had a swimming pool and a delightful terrace where one could laze for hours. The moment she was out of sight the girl in the other cottage crossed over and came upstairs.
‘Thought I’d let you know I’ve given in my notice. She’s furious; she’ll never get anyone by Wednesday. Wouldn’t hurt her to do a bit of housework herself. Mind she doesn’t expect you to take on any more work.’
Emma was stripping beds. ‘I don’t see how she can…’
‘She’ll think of something. I’d better get on, I suppose. Bye.’
Mrs Brooke-Tigh came back earlier than usual; Emma was setting the tea tray ready for the next tenants when she walked in.
‘That girl’s leaving,’ she told Emma without preamble. ‘She never was much good but at least she was a pair of hands. I’ll never get anyone else at such short notice. We will have to manage as best we can. I shall notify the next two weeks’ tenants that they can’t come in until six o’clock. If you come at nine o’clock and work until six you can do both cottages. I’ll pay you another fifteen pounds a day—thirty pounds a week more.’
Emma didn’t answer at once. The money would be useful…‘I’m willing to do that for the next week and, if I must, the second week. But no
