CHAPTER 3
Tracy’s Hot Chocolate Special – proper cocoa, chocolate flakes, giant marshmallows and maybe a tot of rum.
Best drunk with friends.
She woke to a bright morning. Puzzled and bleary-eyed, she stared at the still-closed curtains. How could it be so light? Then she realised her bedside light was still on. Freaked by the weird noises, she’d eventually drifted off to sleep with it still on. Looking around her bedroom she mustered a smile. IKEA’s finest looked at odds with the ancient black beams and lime-plastered walls but it was the only furniture she had. Any refurbishment was going to be done downstairs where it mattered. Yawning, she got out of bed and drew back the curtains.
Gasping with pleasure, she rubbed off condensation and gazed out. Whatever the job threw at her it was going to be a privilege to wake up to this every day. Although not the biggest bedroom, the view was the reason she’d chosen it as herown. The rosy-misted dawn lit the sky and the sea to the east. From here, she could see right across Lullbury Bay, to Portland stretching out as a finger in the sea. All was calm this morning. After the squally weather in the night, the sea possessed a milky tranquillity, the only thing interrupting the horizon, an enormous trawler. She could stare at this view all day. Her phone ringing out the alarm had her running for the shower. She had a busy day ahead. Reaching for her favourite shower gel, all thoughts of the weather were dismissed. She had too much on to get all meteorological.
The morning was a blur of deliveries. She desperately needed to stock up but when she signed the invoice, she blanched at the cost. To take her mind off things she drove to the local Cash and Carry and bought some bar snacks. She thought, in lieu of doing any food, she’d offer high-end crisps and nuts. The idea was to have them out on the bar for customers to help themselves. With Skip the collie in mind and wanting to be dog-friendly, she also bought some dog treats. It was going to cut into her profit margin and she might have to rethink, but she wanted to give the idea a go. No chance of breaking even until she could start offering meals.
Driving back to the pub –to home,she amended, she took the long way round and drove along the seafront. Having worked mostly in midlands towns and cities, the strip of golden sand with the bluey-purple sea beyond lifted her spirits and made her forget how much she’d spent that morning. She wound the window down and sucked in a lungful of fresh briny sea air. Rattling along in her van, she spotted a parking space big enough and pulled in. Getting out, she rested her arms on the railings which separated the promenade from the beach below. Spying a takeaway shack open, she treated herself to hot chocolate and, feeling childishly pleased, sat on a bench and took in her new surroundings.
It would be strange to spend Christmas by the sea. She always associated the season with pretty, snow-covered villages and fields. She’d be on her own too. No Gavin; and her parents were booked on a cruise over the holidays so there was little point taking much time off. Livvy concentrated on the view, trying not to dwell on how alone she was.
Lullbury Bay was split in two, with the harbour at one end and the shops at the other. Both had steep roads leading out which had made the van creak and groan. The town was joined by a long flat promenade and sandy beach. In the summer it would be heaving but today there were only a few dog walkers wandering around. The sky was a vivid blue, with white clouds scudding across. Lifting her face to the October sun she marvelled it still had some warmth beyond the biting sea breeze. She skidded her trainers on the concrete, feeling the sand beneath her feet. It was wonderful. Like being on holiday. Next to her the bench sagged. She opened her eyes to see an old man had joined her. Dressed for the cold wind, he wore a beige cap and a bright red scarf above which could just about be seen a bulbous, pink veined nose and kind eyes behind thick lenses.
‘Morning,’ he said. ‘Smashing day.’
‘Good morning.’ She was cautious. Unless behind a bar and working she wasn’t in the habit of striking up conversations with strangers. It just hadn’t seemed to happen wherever she’d lived before. In fact, making eye contact and talking to someone you didn’t know had been interpreted as the reserve of the desperate or those with issues. She flicked her hair over her face giving herself something to hide behind.
‘You got that from The Sea Spray?’ he said, nodding to her takeaway cup.
Livvy shook her head, licking a dribble of melted cream off her finger.
‘Next time, take my advice, my lovely, and go there. It’s over yonder towards the harbour. Tracy does the best hot chocolate this side of Weymouth. Might be so bold and say best in west Dorset. I’m on my way there to get me one now. Marshmallows and a flake is my tipple of choice. With sprinkles. Can’t beat it when there’s a wind like today.’ He pointed to the grey clouds bubbling up in the far west. ‘Nice at the moment but, mark my words, it’ll go nasty later. Reckon there’s a spot of hail coming in.’ He held out a hand. ‘Austin Ruddick. Born and bred. You on holiday, my lovely?’
Livvy took his hand warily and shook her head again. ‘Livvy Smith.’
‘Pretty name. So, if you’re not on your hols, what you be up to then?’
Livvy edged away slightly. ‘Just enjoying the view.’
‘It’s grand, isn’t it? Best time of the year to enjoy it an’ all. Quiet. Time to take it all in, listen to the sea, breathe in the ozone. Noticed they’re putting up the Christmas trees above the shops in the high street today. Can’t believe Christmas is round the corner. Lullbury likes a bit of Christmas. There’ll be lots going on. It’s grand old town to spend the season in.’
She remained silent.
‘Forgive me, my lovely, but you don’t seem very chatty.’
This stung. Her behaviour had nothing to do with how any man, even one so old and gentle as Austin seemed, dictated. ‘Am I supposed to be?’
‘You’m sitting on a friendship bench.’
‘Sorry, a what?’
‘Looky here.’ Austin pointed to a plaque behind Livvy’s back. ‘Bee from the bookshop and community café got it all sorted. Lots of folk on their own, she reckons, and don’t know how to start a conversation, pass the time of day, like.’ He chortled. ‘Never had that problem myself. My Aggie reckons I can talkthe hind legs off a donkey. But there are some folk, lonely folk, who want to chat but don’t have the wherewithal to drum up a conversation with a stranger. So she got the council to put these plaques on some benches along the front here. You sit on ’em if you’ve a mind for a chinwag. Been ever so popular. She got a community award for them, did our Bee, because of it.’
‘Oh I see,’ Livvy said, not sure she actually did. ‘I didn’t realise. I’m new to the town and simply down here to get my bearings and enjoy the sunshine.’
‘Well, that’s good. Mind you, I always say, warm sun in October means snow come December. Mighty fine sight, is snow on the beach.’
‘It must be.’
‘Doesn’t happen very often.’
‘I can imagine. Where I worked last, we had snow quite a lot.’
‘And where would that be?’
