good-looking, and attentive. She’d given him her heart without hesitation, and if his text was to be believed, he’d loved her too. But that sophistication, which had impressed her at first, had begun to grate. His attitude towards waitstaff in restaurants, his weary sigh if she asked a question he deemed naïve—he’d been just a touch too cynical, his humour a shade too cutting for her liking. She’d buried those doubts, put them down to the disparity in their backgrounds.
Now though she could see they had never really been suited. She’d been drawn to him because he was exactly the sort of man her mother had spent years telling her she should be with. The fact they’d fallen in love with each other didn’t negate the underlying dishonesty at the heart of their relationship. If Charlie had used her to try and escape his parents’ expectations, then she’d surely used him for the exact opposite.
The walls seemed to close in on her, and Beth stumbled to her feet. She needed to get some air, to get away from the concern in Eliza’s eyes, and the furious anger in Libby’s. They probably thought she was devastated by the news, but she didn’t know how to explain the guilt churning inside her. Unwittingly or not, she’d been the other woman. She’d been responsible for the break-up of a relationship. No wonder the others in the group had been a bit frosty towards her. Poor Kimberly.
Heedless of her lack of coat, and the slippers on her feet, Beth ran down the stairs, through the shop and out the front door. The stone steps leading to the beach were a few doors down from the emporium and she ran for them like a woman possessed.
A disgruntled flock of seagulls scattered into the sky before settling back onto the sand behind her. The beach was mostly empty, just a couple strolling hand in hand near the water’s edge and a familiar figure, just a few feet away, wearing a bright orange high-vis vest with the words ‘Beach Patrol’ inscribed in big white letters across the shoulders.
Not in the mood to talk, Beth turned away too quickly, losing one of her slippers in the process. Her toes sank into the sand and she bent over to brush them off and try to shake the worst out of her slipper. A pair of black Wellingtons loomed into her eyeline. ‘Hello, lovey, everything all right?’
She closed her eyes and tried to rein in the tangle of emotions roiling inside her. Straightening up, she pasted on the best smile she could muster and greeted Libby’s father. ‘Hello, Mr Stone. How are you today?’
The big man grinned. ‘I’m very good, thank you. Did you forget your shoes?’
Beth laughed in spite of herself. ‘Looks like it.’
Mr Stone joined in for a moment, before his expression grew solemn. ‘You look upset, lovey. Are you sure you’re all right?’
‘What? Oh, no, I’m fine.’ Beth brushed a strand of hair off her cheek, surprised when her fingers came off wet. ‘I’m fine.’ Her shoulders heaved. ‘I’m really fine.’
Before she knew it, she was snivelling into the front of his thick sweater while poor Mr Stone patted her back with a big, clumsy hand. ‘Don’t cry. Shh, don’t cry.’
Get a grip, for goodness’ sake, she told herself. After a few more sniffles, Beth forced herself to straighten up one more. She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes to try and stop the flow of tears. ‘So…sorry, about that. I’m just being silly.’
His hand patted her shoulder a couple more times before disappearing into his pocket to produce a neatly-folded pristine white handkerchief. He shook it out then pinched her nose between the folds. ‘Blow.’
Beth couldn’t help herself, and started to giggle. The noise came out more of a squeak with her nostrils trapped between his thumb and forefinger, making the giggles worse.
With a tenderness that touched her deeply, Mr Stone wiped her nose, dabbed at her cheeks with more concern than finesse then tucked the dirty hanky back into his pocket. When he withdrew his hand, a shiny round grey pebble tumbled out and fell to the sand.
Bending to pick it up, Beth stared in wonder at the stone. A miniature boat had been painted on one side of it. There was a delicacy to the brush strokes which spoke to the artist’s talent. She couldn’t begin to fathom the patience and concentration it would take to render something so small in such detail. ‘This is great, who gave it to you?’
Libby’s dad shrugged, as though embarrassed. ‘I made it, Beth. It gives me something to do in the evenings.’
Tears forgotten, the beginnings of an idea formed in her mind. Nurturing local talent was one of the things she most wanted to do with the emporium, and who better fit that than the gentle, kind man in front of her? ‘This is brilliant, you’re really talented. You should think about selling them.’
Mr Stone scoffed. ‘It’s a bit of something and nothing. Who’d buy it?’
‘I would. In fact, I’ll sell them via the emporium if you’re interested.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that…’He scrubbed a hand over the short stubble covering his scalp.
Beth smiled. ‘Well, why don’t you think about it?’ She offered him back the pebble, but he shook his head.
‘No. You keep it. It’s made you smile, and that’s enough payment for me.’
Her hand closed over the smooth stone. ‘It certainly has. Thank you, Mr Stone.’
‘You better go back inside before you catch a cold.’ He ambled off with a wave.
As though breaking a spell, his words drew her attention to the thinness of her T-shirt and goose pimples ran up the length of her bare arms. Shivering, toes full of gritty sand, she began to slop her way back up the beach.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw her friends were waiting for her at the top. They’d at least had the sense to put on proper outerwear. Eliza’s expression was one of pure concern as she held out her hand. ‘Come back inside and we’ll make you a cup of tea.’
Gripping the pebble like a talisman, Beth hurried up the steps. Running away didn’t solve anything, and she needed these two more than ever. ‘I’m sorry. It just took me by surprise, that’s all.’
Libby hooked an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. ‘Come on. Gosh, B, you’re freezing! That git isn’t worth catching pneumonia over, you’re well shot of Charlie. I almost feel sorry for the poor cow who’s getting lumbered with him.’
They were halfway up the stairs when it hit her like a freight train. Charlie was getting married. Beth collapsed to her knees, sobs wrenching from her chest so hard the pain burned like a brand. ‘He…oh, God…he…married.’ She choked on the words.
Eliza sank down beside her, enveloping her in a familiar sweet-smelling hug. ‘It’s all right. Shh, it’s all right.’ Beth turned her head into the thick curls of Eliza’s hair and cried like the world was ending.
A hand settled on her back, rubbing in circles just the way her mum had done when she’d been sad or unwell as a child. ‘Oh, B, I’m so sorry for upsetting you. It’s just me and my big mouth, ignore me.’
The edge of one of the treads dug uncomfortably under her ribcage, and her eyes were starting to sting from the salty tears, but it didn’t matter because her friends were there, as always. She cried herself numb, until there was nothing left inside but a dull ache,
