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‘Well, look who it is! Welcome back to Heaven’s Cove,’ said Fred, pushing a pint across the bar, towards the customer he was serving. ‘Back because of your gran, are you? We were all very sorry to hear that she’s gone.’
‘Absolutely,’ said the customer next to her, who was already sipping at his pint, froth coating his upper lip.
‘Thank you. We both miss her.’
‘How’s Isla doing?’ Fred asked after Caitlin had ordered her drinks. ‘She’s been a saint, that girl, looking after Jessie as she got more frail and unwell.’
‘She’s sad, obviously, but I think she’s OK.’
‘Hmm.’ Fred gave her a straight stare. ‘Are you here for long?’ he asked, taking the twenty-pound note Caitlin proffered and counting out the change into her palm.
‘I’m not sure. Hopefully not.’
That came out rather more bluntly than she’d intended, and Fred scowled as he dropped a final pound coin into her hand. It was obvious what he thought of her. What had he heard about her over the years? she wondered. Were her no-shows in Heaven’s Cove the talk of the village? ‘Jessie took those girls in and only one has stuck around to look after her.’ Or was she so insignificant around here, no one really cared about her at all?
Caitlin picked up her drinks and made her way over to Isla, who’d chosen a table almost on top of the fire. She pulled her jumper over her head and sat down, far enough from the fire not to be roasted by it.
‘He’s not here yet then?’
‘I don’t think so. I can’t see anyone new.’ Isla checked her watch. ‘He hasn’t let me know that anything’s changed since I emailed suggesting we meet here at seven.’
‘Has he got a car?’
‘I think so. He was planning on hiring one at Heathrow.’
‘And did he say where he’s staying?’
‘No, but I suggested Driftwood House.’
Caitlin frowned. ‘That road to the top of the cliff, if you can even call it a road, isn’t great at this time of year.’
Isla shrugged. ‘He’s been travelling across Europe for a few weeks. I’m sure he can manage a steep incline and a few potholes. And the view from up there is magnificent. I want him to see Heaven’s Cove at its finest.’
Caitlin ignored the urge to ask why and said, instead: ‘Let me see the first email he sent again.’
Isla handed over her phone and Caitlin re-read it.
Isla – my mom’s insisting I should pay Heaven’s Cove a visit and speak to you while I’m there. I arrive in London tomorrow, Thursday morning. Would that evening be acceptable to meet?
Ben Columbus
He didn’t sound overjoyed to be paying Heaven’s Cove a visit, and while Caitlin sympathised, she was also irritated by his abrupt tone. She had better things to be doing than talking to some random American in a village pub.
But there were two good reasons for being in The Smugglers Haunt tonight: one, Paul had insisted on coming along with Isla, until Caitlin had stepped in as chaperone. Quite what he thought Ben was going to do to her sister in the middle of The Smugglers Haunt was a mystery. He seemed to have taken against Ben simply because he was American.
And two – though it was a long shot – maybe there was something to Jessie’s riddle, after all. Perhaps there was some financial ‘good fortune’ attached to solving the mystery of William and Edith’s wedding that never was. If so, Caitlin could certainly do with the money. Her faith in Stuart putting things right was beginning to waver.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Isla, frowning as she leaned across the table.
‘What do you mean? Nothing. I’m fine.’ Caitlin rearranged her features into their usual bland expression that gave nothing away. She wasn’t about to start chipping away at the façade of her perfect life in the middle of The Smugglers Haunt. ‘I can’t believe Fred’s putting the Christmas decs up already,’ she said as a distraction, nodding at the garlanded tree in the corner. ‘It’s not even December yet.’
‘It will be soon though, and on Sunday it’ll be Gran’s birthday. Her ninetieth, if she’d made it that far. You were invited.’
Isla’s lips pursed while Caitlin wondered if she would have come back for her grandmother’s ninetieth celebration. She’d have sent flowers and a generous gift, that’s for sure. But would she have made the effort to actually turn up? Tears prickled her eyes. ‘We should celebrate such a special birthday anyway,’ she said. ‘We can celebrate having Gran in our lives and all that she did for us.’
Isla swallowed. ‘Actually, that’s a lovely idea.’ She looked up at Caitlin from under her long eyelashes. ‘If you’re still around, that is.’
‘I’ll make sure I am,’ Caitlin assured her. Maisie wouldn’t like it, but this was one last thing she could do for her grandmother.
