Page 41 of Coming Home to Sturcombe Bay
“You must be very proud of her.”
“I am.”
He was focusing on the conversation, but inevitably he was aware of Cassie on the edge of his vision. She had wandered out onto the terrace. He hesitated for a moment, then followed her.
She was standing by the stone balustrade, gazing out over the bay. The sun was shining on the water, making it sparkle like sapphires and diamonds. The small town, nestling in a dip between the green hills around it, looked like a jumble of toy houses climbing the slopes.
“I’d almost forgotten the view from up here,” she remarked, not turning round.
“It is pretty spectacular.” He was silent for a moment. “It was a nice funeral — as funerals go.”
“Yes. Trust Nanna to plan everything just the way she wanted it.” She turned then, and smiled at him. “I like your tie. Did Robyn choose it?”
“I’m afraid so. It was a Christmas present.”
“Ah, she’s such a little darling. And so polite and well-behaved.”
“Most of the time.” His eyes smiled. “She’s very good at winding me round her little finger to get her own way.”
“She’s five. Five-year-old girls are supposed to be able to wind their daddies round their little fingers. It’s in the job description.”
“She loved her tattoo. She was showing it off to everyone.”
“Has it washed off yet?”
“Not quite. Fortunately, she seems to have been satisfied with a pretend one. I was afraid she’d keep nagging me for a real one.”
“She was so sweet about it.” There was a gentle warmth in her eyes. “Thank you for what you said — about Nanna. It must have been very hard for you, what happened, especially with it being so sudden like that.”
“It was. It’s still difficult sometimes, but you learn how to live around it.” He leaned against the balustrade, watching the waves uncurl along the beach in ribbons of white lace. “It was the last day of our holiday, and we’d had a wonderful time. Someone had told Nat about a shop that sold dolls in Greek national costume, and she wanted to get one for Robyn. We’d left Robyn in the hotel’s creche and gone down to the village to do some last-minute shopping for a few presents and souvenirs.”
He felt as if there was a great lead weight in his chest.
“We were on our way back to the hotel when Nat spotted the shop on the other side of the road. She stepped out . . . I think in that moment she must have forgotten that they drive on the other side of the road in Greece. The poor van driver didn’t stand a chance.”
“Oh . . . I’m so sorry.” She shook her head, her eyes dark. “That always seems such an inadequate thing to say.”
“They said it was instant. She wouldn’t have known a thing.” And he hadn’t had the chance to say goodbye.
“It’s nice that you’d had a good holiday,” she said softly. “Something happy to remember.”
“Yes . . .” He hadn’t remembered the happy times — hadn’t let himself remember. But . . . yes, it had been a good holiday — lots of laughter with Robyn, a friendly crowd in the hotel, a couple of interesting sightseeing trips.
“Lisa said she was really nice. All Ollie’s elderly patients loved her.” She looked down at the glass of wine in her hand. “How did you meet her?”
He took a pause, letting the memories return. “It was at Widdecombe Fair. Dad was judging the livestock show and Mum, the dog show, and I’d gone along to help out.” He laughed. “The first time I saw her she was eating candyfloss, and she’d got the pink all round her mouth.”
Her eyes danced. “It’s hard to eat that stuff without getting it round your mouth.”
“Her parents’ little Jack Russell was in the terrier racing — it came third. And she challenged me to enter the bale tossing. I’m afraid I didn’t do very well in it.”
“I’m told there’s a knack to it. Some of the young farmers practice for weeks. They can get very competitive.”
“They certainly can.” For the first time in a long time the images shone bright in his mind — the blue sky, the colours of the fair, the music and the Morris dancing. And Natalie, the sun gleaming on her golden hair, her blue eyes laughing.
Seven years ago . . .
The sound of voices in the ballroom cut across his thoughts. He glanced back over his shoulder. “Ah — people are leaving.”
