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“There’s no evidence...” Mia started, but no one was listening.
“I heard there might have been some new local discoveries in there,” Leanora said. “Probably worth a fortune.”
April Havers nodded. “More than enough.”
“He should be arrested,” Mrs. Hamilton put in, arms folded across her ample chest. “Someone should call the police.”
Satisfied no one had any immediate plans to do just that, Mia banged her empty water glass against the table.
“All right,” she said, once she had people’s attention. “Let me clarify. I have no intention of talking to my father. The rest of you can do what you please, including calling the police, Susan, once this meeting is over. In the meantime, can we please discuss the closing ceremony.”
The entire restaurant was staring at her now, Mia realized. Well, she’d stated her position, firmly and clearly. No one could be in any doubt where her loyalties lay.
“Right,” she said into the silence. “Now. Do we want a band or fireworks? I’m not sure we’re going to have the budget for both.”
It took a moment, but eventually the committee clicked into gear. The diners returned to their croissants, and Mia sat back and listened to Enid Jones try and convince her to hire her nephew’s black metal band for a closing concert.
* * * *
“Now, the deal is, you don’t tell Mia about this,” Charlie said, pausing at the gatepost at the end of his cottage garden path to eye George seriously.
“When would I have the chance?” George asked with a shrug.
“At least not until I’ve spoken to her,” Charlie went on, ignoring the older man.
George stepped past him onto the garden path. “I remember this cottage,” he said. “Mia and Becky used to play up here for hours.”
It was weird, hearing their names together in the same sentence. “Together? Are you sure?”
George looked surprised. “I think I know who my little girl’s best friend is. She was there last night, wasn’t she? I thought I recognized her. Nice to see they’re still friends after all these years. Having dinner together with their men.”
Charlie wasn’t sure where to start with the inaccuracies in that statement, but he figured Mia deserved the right to set her father straight on a lot of things. If she ever decided to talk to him.
So instead he said, “There’s a lot of work to do, as you can see. I’ve got a couple of builders helping me out, but to save money I want to do what I can myself.”
“You mean you want me to do it,” George corrected.
Charlie shrugged. “I need someone to keep an eye on the place. But since you’re here...” George gave a heavy sigh, so Charlie added, “And I can guarantee it’ll earn you points with Mia.”
“She always did love this cottage.” George turned to him. “Okay, I’ll do it. Is there at least enough roof to keep me dry at night?”
Charlie took pity on him. “It’s surprisingly structurally sound, in fact. The bedroom doesn’t even have too much damp. We’ll fetch a mattress up for you later.”
“Somebody’s actually going to sleep in this dump?” The sound of Tony’s laughter behind him made Charlie’s shoulders tense.
“That’s the idea,” he said.
Tony came to stand beside him, puffing as he leaned against the rotting gatepost. Charlie supposed it was quite a climb up from the town, and Tony hadn’t been doing it every day for the last fortnight carrying a heavy toolkit.
Seeing the cottage through Tony’s eyes, Charlie couldn’t help but see how much work there still was to do.
“It’s not too bad,” George said. “Still some work to do...”
“Hell yeah,” Tony said. “But I can see it’s got potential. It’s structurally sound, yes? So it’s mostly cosmetic?”
“Mostly. New windows, new doors, some repairs to the roof, of course. And all the decorating we can handle.” George wasn’t looking any more enthusiastic at Charlie’s words.
“Mmm.” Recovered from the climb, Tony started poking around the front of the house, George trailing behind. “Is it open?” he asked, trying the handle.
“Not much point in locking it,” Charlie said as Tony discovered the hinges were unattached on the other side. Charlie waited for just a moment before jumping forward to help him hold up the door. “Let me shift it for you.” He moved it to the side, allowing them access to the inside. “New door’s held up in Calais for some ungodly reason to do with Magda’s cousin. Should be here on Tuesday.”
The inside didn’t look much better, but Tony appeared to have an eye for potential. “This could be a really superb holiday let.” He smiled at Charlie, and Charlie couldn’t help but feel he was missing something here. “I could do a lot with this cottage,” he added, looking around with a speculative gleam in his eye.
“I’m afraid that will be my job,” George said, reappearing from the bedroom.
Tony looked faintly surprised, and Charlie decided Mia’s dad might have some redeeming qualities after all.
He just hoped one of them was DIY.
* * * *
The A to Z shop was blissfully quiet after the ruckus of the committee meeting. Mia sat at the counter, swinging one leg as she stared out of the shop window at the empty streets outside. Beside her, Ditsy filled in random answers in her crossword, often with little actual reference to the clues, and pointedly said nothing at all.
In fact, she hadn’t said a word since Mia finished her report of the morning’s meeting. She’d just made a hmm noise and turned back to her newspaper, pencil tucked between her lips like a cigarette.
“I did the right thing, didn’t I, Dits?” Mia said when the silence became too oppressive. “I mean, the committee needed to know I’m on the side of the town, right? And I haven’t even spoken to my father since he arrived.”
“Hmm,” Ditsy said again, which was singularly unhelpful.
“I mean, what good would it have done me to defend him? Especially when I think he’s guilty, too.”
“True,” Ditsy said. Progress.
“And the committee needs to trust me. Or else we’ll never pull this thing off.”
“They do.”
“So you agree I did the right thing?” Mia asked, needing to hear the words.
Ditsy put down her newspaper, took the pencil from her mouth and laid it across the black and white squares. “I think the only thing that matters is that you are happy with your actions.”
“Well, I am,” Mia said, and nodded. “So that’s fine.”
“As long as you are happy with never knowing why your father came back, then ignore him, denounce him, burn his letters. Whatever you feel you need to do.” Ditsy looked her straight in the eye. “But remember, this might be your last chanc
e to find out why he left. And your only chance to find out why he’s here.”
Getting to her feet, Ditsy stretched her skinny arms above her head, then tightened the floral tie around her waist. “I’m going to put the kettle on. Cup of tea?”
Mia nodded without really thinking about it. She supposed it all came down to if she really wanted to know. Because she’d managed this long. And she was finally finding her place in this town.
Did it matter after so long?
Mia’s gaze caught on Ditsy’s crossword puzzle, and she tugged the paper toward her for a distraction. As she’d suspected, the words Ditsy had included had nothing to do with the actual clues.
Instead, her answers read Family, Love, Hope and Trust.
* * * *
The Grand Hotel really had been rather grand once. When Becky was much younger, coming for afternoon tea at Aberarian’s poshest hotel with Auntie Ditsy and Auntie Hannah was a real birthday treat. She’d order cucumber sandwiches and then ignore them in favor of the scones and clotted cream, the tiny perfectly decorated cakes and the half inch of champagne Ditsy used to let her have when she’d gotten older.
Today, she had watery breakfast tea instead of a light Darjeeling or a robust Assam, and a round of cheese and pickle sandwiches. She wasn’t even going to touch the rock cakes. Becky sighed. This place needed a touch of class. It needed her.
Tony dropped his tall frame into the chair opposite her, slightly out of breath, and Becky brought her faded china teacup to her lips to cover her surprise. “Would you like a rock cake?” she offered after a second.
He nodded and helped himself. Becky felt a slight surge of pleasure at this small punishment. He’d disappeared before she was even awake this morning, off on some secret mission that didn’t concern her.
“Need some vittles,” Tony said, trying the break the thing in half. “Had a busy morning.”
“Yes?” Becky asked politely. “What have you been up to?” That didn’t sound too interested. Just polite and sociable. She didn’t care what he was up to, after all. He could keep his secrets. What did it matter to her, now she had Charlie again?
