I guess I overreacted. But these days...’ The man shrugged.
‘Keep a closer eye on her if things like that worry you,’ Bruce said. He smiled down at the little girl. ‘And you, young lady, you stay away from the edge of the quay.’
Bruce turned and walked briskly away. How could anyone not realise how quickly children could get themselves into trouble and take more care of them? But it wasn’t just anger he was feeling. He was shaking from the rush of an emotion he hadn’t felt for years. The crippling sadness they’d both felt with the three miscarriages Gabby had suffered before they’d given up on their dream of a family.
Thankfully, by the time he reached his favourite coffee shop, he’d stopped shaking. The large ‘For Sale’ sign on the nearby three-storey townhouse caught his attention. Normally that would be just the kind of property he and Gabby would have been interested in renovating. Mentally he made a note of the estate agent’s name. He’d call in later and get the details. It would be good to have a project on the go again. He’d throw himself into work and try to fill the new gap in his life.
He stopped in the act of pushing open the café door, to the annoyance of the woman following him in. How could he even think of renovating a building without Gabby? Without her to oversee the interior details, he’d be lost.
‘Sorry’ he muttered, ushering the woman past.
Where had these sudden thoughts come from? Only last week he’d decided that, in September, he’d wind up the business. Find something else to do. The word ‘retire’ had flitted through his brain. He’d even been vaguely thinking about moving down here. Living in The Bosun’s Locker permanently. It was big enough for just him.
Sitting waiting for his coffee, he sighed inwardly. The business had always undertaken work up country, both he and Gabby wanting to keep Devon as the place they escaped to from the pressure of work.
But now, why not? Move here and maybe do just one local renovation a year to keep his hand in and stop him getting bored. He’d need to suss out the local builders, find an interior decorator. Were local architects any good? Bruce could feel the lethargy that had settled over him in recent months lifting as possibilities flitted through his brain.
He’d go to the estate agent’s and pick up the details of the townhouse, see if there was anything else that caught his eye, and then do some serious thinking about his future. He’d work his way back into some sort of life. Gabby would expect nothing less of him.
*
‘Right, that’s the spare ribs marinating and the spicy chicken legs rolled in their coating. What shall I do next? Cut up the veg for the kebabs?’ Hazel asked.
‘Please. I’ll get on with the macaroni salad once I’ve got the pumpkin pie in the oven,’ Karen said.
The two of them were in Karen’s kitchen preparing everything for the 4th July barbecue that evening. The first communal get-together of the season.
‘At least the weather is good. Remember the year of the thunderstorms and floods?’
‘Never forgotten it,’ Hazel said. ‘God, was it scary.’
‘How big a macaroni salad do we want?’ Karen held up the bag of pasta. ‘All of it?’
Hazel nodded and Karen poured the lot into the saucepan of boiling water on the Aga.
‘Simon and Bruce setting the barbecue up for later? Who’s in charge of the actual cooking this year?’
‘Who d’you think?’ Hazel laughed. ‘Simon’s bought himself a new set of posh tools and a King of the Barbeque apron. No way is he planning to stand aside.’
Karen piled all the meat for cooking – chicken drumsticks, steaks, beef burgers and sausages – onto dishes ready to be carried out to Simon and Toby. A table had been set up to one side of the barbecue for people to help themselves to the rest of the food. Green salad, macaroni salad, rolls, crisps, sweet-potato wedges, pumpkin pie.
Looking at the array of food, Karen said, ‘D’you think we might have gone over the top this year? There’s only Tia to represent the hordes of hungry teenagers we usually feed.’
Before Hazel could answer, Karen’s mobile rang. Glancing at the caller name her heart lifted. ‘Wills. Where are you?’
‘At the airport on the way home. Looking forward to seeing you and Devon.’
‘Wonderful. When exactly do you want me to collect you from Totnes?’
‘No worries. Dad’s offered to bring me down towards the end of next week.’
Karen pushed the guilty ‘But I don’t want him to’ thought away, saying instead, ‘Great. See you both then.’
What had happened to Derek’s ‘Not sure there’s any point in coming down’ excuse? Was he up to something? Fingers crossed it would just be an overnight visit and he’d then disappear back to town, leaving her to enjoy Wills’ company.
Karen smiled happily at Hazel. ‘Wills is on his way home. He’ll be here next week.’ She picked up the first couple of meat dishes. ‘Right, let’s get the chefs cooking.’
The first communal barbecue of the summer was always a noisy one. This year was no exception.
As the first steaks and burgers came off the grill, Bruce checked everyone had a drink before raising his glass of wine. ‘Nice to see everyone here again and hopefully we’re in for a good summer.’ He paused before adding quietly, ‘Here’s to absent friends.’ Silently, glasses were raised in acknowledgement.
Looking at Bruce, Karen realised how tense he was and knew how difficult this first communal get-together was for him. Gabby had always been such a powerhouse at these events. Organising everything and everyone. This first summer without her was sure to be full of reminders of the gentle woman who had been his life for so long.
‘You okay?’ Karen said, moving to stand by him.
Bruce nodded. ‘Yes. As Gabby would say, the show must go on.’ He glanced at her. ‘I need to talk to you. About something I promised Gabby I’d do. Can I buy you lunch one day next week? Wednesday? Friday?’
‘Wednesday’s good for me. Wills and Derek are probably arriving on Friday,’ Karen said.
‘Glad to hear that,’ Bruce said. He glanced along the terrace. ‘I was in the estate agent’s this afternoon. They’ve got No. 4 on their books, so we can expect a few nosey parkers looking around this summer. Mind you, at the price they’re asking, it’ll be well-heeled nosey parkers.’ He shook his head.
‘Oh, that’s a shame. You’d have thought one of the relatives would have wanted to keep it,’ Karen said. ‘What were you doing in the estate agent’s anyway? Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of selling up?’
‘Not The Bosun’s Locker, no.’ Bruce shook his head. ‘But I’ve got to find something to do. Some purpose to my life,’ he added quietly. ‘I’ll tell you more on Wednesday.’
By mid evening, Simon and Toby, fuelled by several cans of beer, were doing a duet of ‘Yankee Doodle Dandy’, much to the
