‘I know, he told me.’ Harvey’s expression gave nothing away. One of his most frustrating qualities had always been to shield his emotions, although right now perhaps Melissa should be grateful. Maybe if he let everything out she wouldn’t be able to stand hearing it and knowing that some of it was true.
‘I always sent him a card and gift for his birthday, never forgot him at Christmas,’ she went on.
‘He didn’t need all that, he just wanted to see you.’ He let out a sigh and his voice lost the accusatory tone. ‘Still, you’re here now, that’s all that matters. Can I help you with your suitcase?’
‘I’m not a helpless young thing, you know.’
‘Yeah, forgot. You don’t need me. Not anymore.’ And with an edge of animosity back in his voice he sauntered off, but not without calling over, ‘Welcome back,’ in a tone that suggested he didn’t mean it at all.
She hauled her suitcase from the boot and manhandled it across the car park that’s surface wasn’t good enough to make use of the wheels. It took her a couple of attempts to yank open the front door but the inside was more inviting than the outside had been and it wasn’t long before a girl who looked to be in her early twenties came through from what Melissa remembered to be the kitchen.
‘Welcome to the Heritage Inn.’ The girl, dressed in a tangerine-coloured T-shirt with denim shorts, took up her position behind the desk.
Melissa introduced herself before the girl caught sight of her jeans. ‘A splash from a truck,’ she explained.
‘I can wash those for you,’ she smiled, her olive-green eyes the same colour as the cotton headband holding blonde hair away from her face.
‘That would be brilliant, thank you so much.’ Melissa felt herself breathe for the first time since she’d arrived in the village.
As the girl turned her attention to the computer to find the booking Melissa couldn’t quite place her. She was familiar for sure, but perhaps she was just expecting to know everyone here when in reality Heritage Cove had enough inhabitants that you could never know every single person.
The girl handed Melissa a key. ‘You’ll be in room eight, up the stairs and towards the front of the inn. Breakfast is between six and nine, continental or full English, and it’s included in the price of the room. We use fresh produce here too – eggs, fruit and vegetables are sourced locally.’
The previous owners had always done the same. Melissa remembered bringing fresh eggs here under her mum’s instruction. She wondered who was supplying the locals these days because she knew it was these little touches, the attention to detail, that would make this inn a winner ifthey could sort out that car park and give the place a spruce-up outside. The inside was a definite improvement. A bright, airy reception room with enough glass on two sides to let the sun in most of the day had a floral sofa and two armchairs with a low-lying pine coffee table that was scattered with home style magazines, a couple of newspapers and a menu for the restaurant.
Melissa was about to head on up the stairs when a framed photograph on the side of the desk next to the guestbook caught her eye. It was of her best friend and her husband, and suddenly it all clicked into place. ‘Are you Tracy and Giles’s daughter?’ she asked, before the girl could go back to what she’d been doing before Melissa arrived.
‘I am, yes.’ She noted the photograph. ‘That was taken the day my parents took over this place. Do you know them?’
‘I know your mum well, we’ve been good friends for years.’ Tracy was six years older than Melissa but they’d hit it off when they both worked a holiday job at one of the big supermarkets outside of the village. Melissa had never really hit it off with the girls at her school, her best friend had always been Harvey, so Tracy was a refreshing change.
‘You’re Melissa,’ the girl smiled as the penny dropped for her too. ‘My mum talked about you a lot, you used to live here in Heritage Cove. I’m Sandy, by the way.’
‘I can’t believe I didn’t recognise you at first, although I’ve been gone five years.’ She was also glad that Tracy didn’t appear to have painted her in too bad a light or she felt sure Sandy wouldn’t be quite so friendly.
‘Five years ago…’ Sandy did the maths in her head. ‘I would’ve been twelve, terrible glasses that did nothing for me, curly hair I hated.’
Melissa chuckled. ‘Your hair and your glasses never seemed out of place to me.’
‘Mum always said the same.’
It was wonderful to know Tracy had settled in the Cove like she always wanted. She’d never been sure of what to do career-wise, she’d drifted from job to job over time, but one thing she’d known was that she wanted to get married, have a family and stay in the village. Even Melissa’s postcards of far-flung places had never tempted her friend to travel, she’d much preferred the English seaside to anywhere exotic.
‘Does your younger sister work here too?’ Melissa asked.
‘Violet? Not yet. She’s finishing school and I’m not yet sure whether she wants to do this for a living, but I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.’
‘Well, it’s lovely to see you again, Sandy. And if I may, I’ll bring the jeans down after I change.’ She lifted the handle to her case. Sandy was the spitting image of her mum now Melissa knew who she was, with straightened hair that Melissa already suspected would spring into curls, or at least waves, just like Tracy’s had when the humidity outdoors did its worst, and she was the same blonde Tracy had been in her younger years before she naturally went a shade darker.
‘Of course, I’ll get them washed for you straight away. And I’ll talk to mum later, let her know you’re here.’
Melissa could only smile. She wasn’t sure how that announcement was going to go down. Tracy had every right to give a frosty reception to the friend who’d walked away and not come back. Not even when Tracy’s mum had died, because Melissa hadn’t felt she could comfort her. She’d tried at first through phone calls and then a letter, but her own grief over losing her parents had snowballed every time and so she’d distanced herself, her much-used coping mechanism. She hadn’t come back for Tracy’s fortieth party either. She’d ignored the invite, knowing that if she went she’d be faced by a pub full of locals, receive the inevitable hostility. It wasn’t necessarily that they would all have wanted to say goodbye or hear from her over the years, it would be far more to do with them feeling protective over Barney, a man everyone liked, admired and looked out for.
‘Feel free to enjoy the balcony,’ Sandy called after her as Melissa took the stairs, ‘it’s beautiful in summer and gets the sun all afternoon.’
Melissa smiled. It sounded tempting, but after she’d unpacked and got changed, she wouldn’t be putting it off any longer. She couldn’t wait to see Barney.
*
