Page 60 of A Fresh Start at Bramble Cottage
Barry from the garage had almost wet himself with excitement when she had rung to ask if he knew anyone who might be interested in buying it. A genuine Royal Enfield from 1959 — he had positively drooled over it when she had opened the garage door. At least it would be going to a good home!
And she had a little more money in her bank account to live on until she got a job, or to put towards paying the inheritance tax bill that would be due in six months. She couldn’t restrain a few little dance steps as she walked back into the kitchen. Even finding more messages from Jeremy on her phone couldn’t dampen her mood.
Time for a stroll down into the village and a cup of coffee at Debbie’s. Swinging her bag onto her shoulder she locked the door and set off at a brisk pace down the hill.
It was another glorious sunny day — Monday’s rain had given the ground a welcome soaking and then departed. Bumblebees and bright butterflies were dancing among the wild flowers in the hedgerows along the side of the road, and the soft chirruping of birds filled the trees.
Oh, yes — she really wanted to stay. That brief trip to London — the traffic and the pavements and everyone rushing about and never even looking up at the sky... Who wouldn’t choose this?
And that was before she’d even reached the beach.
The café was bustling with happy holidaymakers, children wide-eyed with excitement at the prospect of the pretty iced cupcakes being brought to their tables, parents munching on pizza slices and paninis, thankful that someone else was doing the washing-up.
A family had just left a table by the window. Vicky put her bag on it and collected up the debris of their meal to carry over to the kitchen.
Debbie greeted her with a happy smile as she passed. “Hi. I’ll just wipe your table down. Your usual?”
“Yes, please.” She couldn’t miss that there was something special about her friend — her eyes were sparkling like stars, her cheeks softly tinged with pink. “You’re busy this afternoon.”
“The season’s starting to build up. It’ll get a lot busier than this. Oh — you remember my mum?” she added, indicating the older woman seated beside the till. She had Debbie’s soft brown hair and soft brown eyes, but her skin was pale and her cheeks a little thin from her recent illness.
“Of course.” Vicky smiled warmly. “Hello, Mrs Rowley.”
“Why, it’s little Vicky! You call me Kate, my luvver.” Her accent was as rich as Devon cream. She came round from behind the counter and took both of Vicky’s hands in hers. “Debbie told me you was here. How are you? My, you’ve grown up into a beauty.”
Vicky laughed, squeezing her hands. “Well, I’ve grown up anyway. How are you? Debbie said you’d been poorly.”
“Nothing serious — I get a touch of bronchitis now and then, and this time it turned into a bout of pneumonia, so the doc ordered me to bed. Silly thing to make a fuss over.”
“Not at all — pneumonia can be very unpleasant. You have to take care of yourself. I hope you’re better now?”
“Much better, thank you. And so bored of sitting up in bed with my knitting. I’m much better off down here, where I can make myself useful.”
“And if you don’t stay on that chair like the doctor told you, you’ll be back up there again,” Debbie chided as she passed.
Kate chuckled with laughter, but sat down again. “So are you planning on staying then?” she asked Vicky.
“Yes — at least I hope so. Aunt Molly left me some jewellery, as well as the cottage. I sold most of it to Digby’s, in town, but there was a brooch that he said was worth more.”
“That was a bit of luck.”
“Yes, it was. That was why I went up to London yesterday, to sell it. And itwasworth more — a lot more.” She drew in a deep breath, feeling the excitement bubbling up inside her again. “Enough to pay for the work on the cottage, and a bit left over.”
“Oh! That’s wonderful.”
“I still have to pay the inheritance tax. I’ll need to get a mortgage on the cottage to pay it off, or arrange to spread the payments — though that will mean paying interest too. Either way, I’ll need to get a job.”
“Hmm — there’s not a lot round here.” Kate shook her head, frowning in thought. “The young ’uns struggle to find anything — I feel sorry for ’em. So many of them end up having to move away.”
Debbie set down Vicky’s coffee on the counter. “What about the Carleton?” she suggested.
Her mother’s face brightened. “Oh, yes — of course!”
Vicky glanced from one to the other. “There’s a job going there?”
“That’s right. It’s only temporary, mind. Lisa, their assistant manager, will be going on maternity leave in a few weeks, so they’re going to need someone to cover.”
Vicky hesitated. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything about managing a hotel. They’ll want someone qualified, with experience. And I doubt if Jeremy’s mother will give me a reference,” she added with a humourless laugh.
