‘I’ve grown up a lot since those days,’ Linc smiled.
‘It didn’t stop me stocking up my own fridge and pantry in preparation.’
‘Ah, that explains all the food shoved in the cupboards with the mugs, more beneath the sink where you keep the detergent, even more in the Welsh dresser in the lounge. It’s like you’re stashing in case the supermarkets suddenly close for a month.’ He’d given her money for his keep – she’d not wanted it, said he was a guest, but he knew his appetite and she wasn’t responsible for him. He didn’t want to be living off her, no matter that it was only for a few weeks over the summer. He might have made a mess of a lot of things but not his finances.
‘I get very few visitors so when I do, I like to spoil them.’
‘I suppose I can’t argue with that.’
This opportunity had come at the right time, before he’d even realised he needed it. He’d been happily going about his days as though there was no alternative, living close enough to his dad that if he needed him, Linc could be there in less than fifteen minutes. But lately he’d got the impression his dad was beginning to feel smothered, or at least responsible for Linc not quite being the together man he’d once been. His dad had suggested he go on holiday for the six weeks that schools weren’t in session, tried to convince him to go somewhere hot and have a real break, but Linc had known he’d worry too much if he did. And so he hadn’t booked anything.
Seven months ago Linc’s dad had had what they termed a mild heart attack. But there’d been nothing mild about it in Linc’s opinion and since then he’d watched his dad like a hawk. He’d already lost one parent; he wasn’t ready to lose another. But rather than easing things for his dad, Linc knew he’d become a bit too attentive, he’d been fussing, and despite being aware he was doing it, he couldn’t stop. Linc knew too that sometimes he wasn’t pleasant to be around. He was miserable, angry on occasion, and evenhewas starting to not want to spend time with himself. He was carrying a frustration, a sense of loss and lack of direction that he knew he took out on the people around him. And he didn’t know how to move on from it. Linc had wondered briefly whether his dad had begged his sister to do something. Who knew, perhaps they’d even paid off this David to do a runner and let Linc come to the Cove for work instead.
‘No more,’ he groaned after demolishing the bacon roll, a bit of fruit and Etna tried to push the yogurt towards him. ‘I won’t be able to bend down to rip out any more of the cabinets if I put anything else in my stomach. The coffee will do though,’ he winked.
Etna definitely enjoyed being the one to look after everyone else; it was why she was suited to a business that saw her running around serving others and bringing joy to their day with snacks and beverages and the art of conversation. He’d often thought she’d missed out by never being a mum. She would’ve been a good one too – ruled with an iron fist but with the perfect balance between discipline and love. But it wasn’t something she’d ever talked about, and why would she with her nephew? It was every woman’s – and every man’s, for that matter – right to choose whether they wanted to be a parent or not. Etna had never found anyone else after Linc’s uncle Wyatt died over twenty-five years ago either. She must’ve been in her mid-forties when she became a widow but to Linc’s knowledge there’d been nobody since. She had the business and it seemed that had always been more than enough.
Etna, unprompted, gave him another rundown of who lived in the Cove. Not Heritage Cove – it seemed locals dropped the Heritage part, and he was fast getting used to doing the same. He now knew who all the business owners were, the frequent visitors to the tea rooms, and all about the upcoming wedding plans for local man Barney and his fiancée Lois.
‘Jade will do the wedding cake,’ Etna told him, ‘and the catering team is Tracy, who runs the Heritage Inn – the guesthouse on the corner as you came into the village – Celeste from this bakery, and me. Barney loves nothing more than to keep things local where we can. You should get amongst it while you’re here.’ Being bossy was another quality she had down to a tee, but he didn’t mind a bit.
‘What are you suggesting? I offer to be an usher at the wedding?’
‘Not quite, but make sure you don’t hide yourself away in here – get out and about, take in the fresh air and the scenery. Get to know the locals. That’s why I keep telling you about them.’
‘I’ve already been doing that by upsetting Jade.’ He explained about the early start this morning. He didn’t tell her he’d found the photograph and teased her about an ex-boyfriend she was clearly still hung up on.
‘I find an apology usually works, Lincoln.’
‘No need to full-name me. But you’re probably right.’ And he expected it was a better approach than winding her up. He knew he’d been an idiot. But being wronged by a woman did that to a man sometimes; it was difficult to separate the good ones from the ones who might be out to take you for a ride. ‘Harvey said he’d have a word and when I next see her, I will apologise, I promise.’
‘Glad to hear it.’ She patted him on the knee as though he were ten years old. ‘You should walk down to the cove one day too, walk on the sand, see the water. It’s magnificent. It’s almost a local hideaway, accessed via a track beside the chapel. Or there’s the pub quiz,’ she added, barely pausing for breath. ‘There’ll be plenty taking part – all ages too. And Harvey is a frequent flyer as well as a frequent winner.’
‘I’m not a released prisoner, you know.’ He knocked back the rest of his coffee, a welcome bitterness after the tangy roll. ‘You don’t have to integrate me back into society. What has Dad been telling you exactly?’
‘He doesn’t tell tales; I know you, remember. I want you to have a good summer, sort your head out. Because any fool can tell you’re not quite right and haven’t been for some time.’ She patted his knee once again. ‘Nobody, including me, will push you if you don’t want to know, but at the same time it wouldn’t harm you to make an effort and find some friends. Whatever you’ve got going on – and I don’t need to know the details if you don’t want to talk about it – you need to make the most of your time here.’
‘Are you trying to get me out from under your feet?’ Her place wasn’t exactly big and he was aware how easy it would be to get in the way.
‘Don’t be daft, there’s only one of me and I work all the hours I can anyway.’
‘You’re never going to retire, are you?’
‘Not if I can help it.’ She pushed her hands against her thighs and stood up. For someone in her seventies she moved well – she had to with a job like hers. Perhaps that was another secret. Move it or lose it. ‘Quiz night is tonight, get yourself to the pub.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ he told her as she made her getaway through the back door with a reminder not to let the rest of the fruit salad or the yogurt spoil now the rain had stopped and the sun was gracing the garden behind the bakery and creeping its way towards the window sill.
After Etna left Linc scrubbed at the walls of the bakery, their marks stubborn and set in after years of neglect. He dealt with the window man, who would email a quote through to Harvey, but he didn’t get anywhere near the mopping-the-floor stage. That would have to wait. And by the time he’d worked off all that physical energy come dinnertime, he decided maybe he was ready to be a bit more sociable and brave the pub.
It couldn’t hurt, could it?
Chapter Three
The Copper Plough was heaving by the time Linc arrived at the four-hundred-year-old pub with its decent beer garden at the rear. The inside had classically low beams and a bar with a brass rail running around the outside part of the wood. Soft lighting illuminated the faces of customers and was needed even in the summer months with the traditional pub’s low ceilings, small windows and cosy corners. An open fireplace had an arrangement of deep-red flowers placed in front of the grate. Linc expected come autumn and winter a roaring fire would be there instead and punters would be able to sink into the maroon leather chairs positioned at angles in front of the hearth to enjoy the warmth.
Melissa was in the pub too and according to Harvey his fiancée was his better half when it came to pub quizzes.
‘He’s having you on,’ Melissa told Linc above the din as excited punters made their way from the bar to the tables ready to listen for questions and scribble down answers. She swished her auburn hair up into a ponytail as though she meant business. ‘He’s in this as much as me, we both like to win.’
