‘So, are you joining us, then?’ Trevor enquired, opening his case to reveal a sewing machine. ‘What are you working on? What’s your favourite medium?’
‘Oh, um, no. I’m not a crafter.’ Standing, Beth folded the tea towel. ‘And I was just about to leave, actually.’
‘You’re welcome to stay, Beth,’ Flo said as she reached down beside her chair and lifted a knitting project into her lap. ‘We’d love to have you.’
‘Yeah,’ added Elsie, ‘it’d be great to have some young blood in our group—’
Trevor gasped indignantly. ‘How dare you!’
Elsie rolled her eyes. ‘You’re forty-seven, Trev. That’s hardly young. Besides—’ she waggled her eyebrows suggestively, ‘—maybe young Beth here can teach us a thing or two.’
‘About needlework?’ Carmen looked confused. ‘But she just said she’s not a crafter.’
‘No, you dolt! About what the young ones get up to for fun these days.’ Elsie winked at Beth as if they were on a similar wavelength. ‘If you know what I mean.’
Beth blinked. Was Elsie actually intimating that she wanted to hear about Beth’s sexual exploits? She’d laugh if she weren’t so anxious to leave.
‘I’m sorry, I really have to go. I was in the middle of gardening when I came over and there’s plenty more to do. Flo, thanks for the tea.’ She held the towel aloft. ‘I’ll leave this on the kitchen bench and let myself out. It was nice to meet everyone.’
With that, she turned and fled, and it wasn’t until she was back across the road that she was finally able to breathe again.
Shoving her hands on her hips, she sighed and stared hopelessly at the partially uncovered rose bushes. Why was she so pathetic? She couldn’t even handle a group of perfectly friendly older people. Nothing terrifying about any of them—except perhaps for Elsie, who seemed to converse solely in innuendo.
Beth knelt down in front of the garden beds and began viciously yanking out more weeds. Of course Flo wasn’t alone. Of course she had a whole group of friends visiting with her right now. Becauseshewasn’t ridiculously awkward or completely inept at socialising. Unlikesomepeople.
Beth grunted, trying to remove a particularly stubborn weed. Adjusting her grip from one hand to two, she planted her feet and pulled with all her might. Finally, the irritating thing came free. Panting, she tossed it aside where it lay with the rest of its ugly, unwanted and invasive cousins. Then, feeling a bizarre sense of accomplishment, she sniffed and carried on ridding the garden of weeds.
She’d make this place beautiful. If it was the last thing she did.
* * *
Four stairs. That’s all that stood between Beth and the entrance to the B&B. Four stairs, but the front door may as well have been the summit of Mount Everest. Her body ached in places she’d never felt before. Who knew that spending an afternoon ripping out weeds was equivalent to ten consecutive whole-body workouts? Her arms hung by her sides and the thought of lifting one to do so much as scratch her ear made her want to sob, but if she could just make it to her room, she could flop down on her bed and not move until morning.
Taking a deep breath, she tried not to whimper too loudly as she tackled her Everest. When she reached the porch, she let out a relieved sigh, but then remembered the gigantic staircase inside. It was all she could do not to collapse in a heap.
Resigned, she opened the front door and stepped into the entrance hall. It was empty. Shadows cast along it as dusk fell, but at the far end, the doorway to the kitchen was lit up and the clink of glassware indicated that someone was within hearing distance. Easing the door closed as quietly as she could, she tiptoed over the carpet runner, her heart thumping. The last thing she wanted was an audience when she attempted this embarrassingly impossible thing.
She’d only crept halfway towards the staircase, however, when Ellie appeared in the illuminated doorway, a wine glass and bottle of red in her hands. She shrieked when she caught sight of Beth.
‘Sorry! Just me.’
‘Jeez!’ Ellie sagged with relief. ‘You scared me half to death.’
Standing awkwardly and shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Beth glanced at the stairs and waited for Ellie to continue on her way.
Except she didn’t.
Instead, she stopped in front of Beth and thrust the wine glass and bottle into her hands.
‘Can you do me a favour and take these into the sitting room? I’ll be there in a sec.’ With that, she turned and disappeared into the kitchen.
Not without effort, Beth inched towards the room in question, resenting every step that took her further away from her goal. She placed the bottle and glass on the coffee table and, wanting to weep at how comfy the couch looked, headed back into the hall, hoping to haul her butt up the stairs before Ellie returned.
No such luck. Ellie reappeared, carrying a second wine glass and a plate of cheese, crackers and fruit.
‘Uh-uh,’ she said, waving the glass at Beth. ‘Where do you think you’re going? You’re joining me for a drink. You look like you need it.’
‘Oh, actually—’
