‘What are they?’ she asked, studying them. They were quite a bit smaller than seagulls with black heads and bodies, and white chests with long, thin, orange beaks. Bobbing on the sea, they peep-peeped among themselves.
‘Oystercatchers. You get a lot of them down here. I’m sure they’re increasing by the year.’
She wondered if he was trying to change the subject and happily went along with him. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen birds like those before.’
A couple of seagulls flew near to them and the entire flock swooped up, then flew in a large circle before landing again and congregating further along the water.
‘It’s lovely here,’ she said almost to herself.
‘It is, isn’t it? I’m aware how lucky I am to have this place to return to whenever I want.’
‘Which is why you and Lettie have been so determined to try and keep Hollyhock Farm in your family, I imagine.’
‘Exactly. Of course we could rent flats in town, or maybe somewhere in the country parishes, but it wouldn’t be the same as living at the farm.’
‘I can understand why, although from what I’ve seen of the island there seems to still be a lot of character here. Has it changed much over the decades?’ It was one of the things she loved about growing up in Edinburgh, especially the older part of the city – that it had seen little change in the architecture for hundreds of years.
He sighed. ‘Well, it is changing. In fact, it’s changed a lot but when I was moaning about it to one of my friends from the UK they said that the island seems to be changing far slower than most of England, and for that I’m extremely grateful.’
‘That’s good to hear.’
‘How about you? Do I hear the hint of a Scottish accent?’
Melody laughed. ‘More than a hint, I imagine. I’m from Edinburgh. My family moved around a lot, but that’s where I call home.’
‘I’ve only been once,’ he said. ‘But it was years ago. I thought it a very atmospheric place. I loved it.’
She liked that he did, although she rarely came across anyone who didn’t. ‘I agree. It’s very special there.’
He turned to her. ‘So why leave and come here? Were you and Patsy hoping for a break from the place or just a summer trip away?’
‘A bit of both,’ she admitted.
‘But you like what you’ve seen of the island so far?’
She laughed. ‘How could I not? The weather is glorious and everywhere I’ve seen so far is beautiful. Hollyhock Farm is especially pretty. The farmhouse is gorgeous in that pink-tinged stone.’
‘It’s our local granite. Guernsey’s granite is blue. You’ll see many more homes and walls built with this stone as you visit more of the island.’
His phone buzzed. Taking it out of his pocket, Zac sighed as he read the text that had appeared. ‘Everything all right?’ she asked, concerned.
He pushed the phone back into his pocket and looked out at the rocky area again. ‘A message from Callum.’
Suspecting Callum was inviting Zac out for a drink somewhere, Melody decided to broach the subject. ‘I know you invited me out for a walk, but please don’t feel like you have to put your friend off for me. We can do this another time.’
He stilled briefly. ‘No, it’s fine,’ he said. ‘I can see Callum any time.’
She liked Zac but hadn’t picked up any vibes that he was attracted to her despite what her grandmother had said. Callum seemed nice enough but she wasn’t ready for anything romantic. ‘I don’t want to keep you from your plans though,’ she said, feeling guilty that he was putting himself out for her. ‘Maybe the three of us could go out for a drink at the village pub together sometime,’ she said eventually.
They continued walking and seeing a beautifully marked shell, Melody bent to pick it up. She brushed the sand off it and studied the browns and creams. She slipped it into her back pocket. Then, noticing a discarded crisp packet, picked it up to take to the bin when they left the beach.
Zac nodded. He took his phone back out of his pocket, typed in a reply to Callum and sent it.
‘There,’ he said. He bent to pick up a similar shell a few strides along the beach. ‘Here’s one. It’s a limpet shell.’
She took the pointed shell and decided it would look perfect on her windowsill. ‘Thank you, I like it.’
‘It’s not very beautiful, but it has a sort of rough and ready charm about it, I think.’
