Page 63 of Best Summer Ever

The hardest lump had formed in my throat as Algy spoke. I knew he had family of his own, a son if memory served, but he had been estranged from him for a very long time. I had only been small when the fallout had occurred and the sad situation had never been resolved and was only ever rarely talked about and always when Algy was out of earshot.

I didn’t think it was my place to broach it, but I did wonderif that, combined with his tumble and the possible loneliness my parents had speculated over, might be responsible for some of the melancholy he had been feeling before my return, or was potentially still feeling if his current words were anything to go by.

‘There’s always Nick,’ I pointed out, unable to commit to saying I’d stay for longer than the next few weeks. An assurance that I’d stay would doubtless lift Algy’s spirits, but then I’d crush them if an opportunity to leave Wynbrook presented itself sooner. ‘He’s the same age as me.’

‘He’s always busy running the fruit farm,’ Algy pointed out. ‘And doing a wonderful job of it,’ he hastily added. ‘But that means I barely see him.’

I knew for myself how busy Nick was, especially at this time of year, so couldn’t dispute that or suggest that Nick could spend time up at the manor in the evenings. He was generally too worn out to sparkle socially.

‘It feels to me like everything is grinding to a halt,’ Algy then said morosely. ‘We’re all getting older and I haven’t got around to instigating half of the plans I had for the place.’

I knew the cut-flower garden was one of those plans and had I not had such upsetting memories associated with that part of the garden, I would have seized on that and asked him to show me and share his vision.

‘The cut-flower garden, for example,’ he said, staring into space, while he neatly followed my thoughts. His expression told me that he wasn’t now trying to manipulate me into visiting, he was simply letting his mind freely flow, ‘is full of blooms. Fragrant sweet peas and Sweet Williams, cosmos, stocks, cornflowers and Alchemilla mollis, to name just a few…’

I unconsciously inhaled the biggest breath, easily imaginingboth the heady scents and the simple but stunning raffia hand-tied bunches such beautiful flowers could create.

‘But there’s no one to oversee it and now it’s getting choked with weeds, too,’ Algy continued in a different tone, and the picture in my mind turned into something far less attractive. ‘And everything will soon run to—’

‘Seed,’ I interrupted. ‘I know how often those flowers need cutting to keep more coming throughout the season.’

They needed daily, sometimes twice-daily, cutting and had the garden been opened to the public as Algy had originally planned, they would have had it.

‘Exactly,’ he said sadly, then carried on in a louder voice, ‘but I didn’t get you here to bang on about that, Daisy. I do know, and I do understand how you really feel about the garden. It wasn’t my intention to bring it up again.’

‘I know that,’ I said gently, knowing that he was telling the truth. ‘I can sense that, but I’m sorry that you’re feeling so sad about it all.’

‘Inevitable, I suppose,’ he shrugged, ‘when you’re shuffling towards the end of the twig and there’s no one to come along and keep feathering the nest you’ve left behind.’

‘Trust you to express it like that,’ I said, with a small smile.

I leant over and kissed his soft cheek, feeling choked.

‘Come on then,’ he rallied, ‘let’s get this camera back up. I daresay you’ve got a million things to do today, haven’t you?’

‘Just one,’ I told him, ‘but it’s really important, otherwise I would have stayed.’

Thankfully, Algy was sounding a little brighter by the time I left him. Whether that was genuine or put on for my benefit,I couldn’t be sure. Obviously, I hoped it was the former and that our time together was doing him some good, rather than making him hanker for what he’d once had family-wise and then been denied. Had I not had other fish to fry, I genuinely would have stayed with him longer, but I was desperate to check in on Penny and then see Josh ahead of my next shift in the pub.

‘All quiet on the western front?’ I smiled, when I arrived at the café and found everything under control and a couple of empty tables.

‘I told you I could manage,’ said Penny, who was wiping down the countertop.

‘And that’s nothing to do with the weather today, is it?’

The sky had turned grey and there was a rather mean wind whipping in from the sea, so the beach was all but deserted. I was grateful for the cardigan I’d grabbed ahead of leaving Wynbrook, but my bare legs were goose-pimpled all over.

‘It might have some bearing.’ She frowned, looking out at the cloud-covered view. ‘But like I said yesterday, it’s a learning curve and I’m still finding my feet.’

‘Have you tweaked the menu now?’

‘Yes,’ she said, letting out a breath. She was clearly disappointed about that, but I hoped that if my plan worked, she’d soon be able to put more of her own dishes back on the chalkboard again. ‘So,’ she smiled stoically, ‘what can I get you? Or are you just passing through?’

‘Passing through to where?’ I asked, making a show of looking around. ‘My options are somewhat limited in Wynmouth.’

‘Don’t tell me you’re missing city life,’ Penny said laughingly, ‘because I won’t believe that for a second.’

I gave her suggestion a moment’s thought.

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