Turning around, she decided to take a stroll along the beach. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had been to the seaside.
The afternoon sun warmed Tammy’s shoulders as she strolled along the beach, weaving around families splashing in the surf and building elaborate sandcastles. She smiled as a little girl protested at her father as he rubbed more sun cream on the tip of her button nose. Tammy wondered if her own parents had ever brought her here as a child, building castles as the tide swept over their feet. Had her father chased her in the frothy surf? Had her mother swept her hair up into a ponytail to keep her unruly curls from her eyes as she played in the waves? But any memories from before their death were lost, swept away like footprints on these shifting sands.
Wandering farther down the shoreline, Tammy spotted a church steeple in the distance. Drawn by curiosity, she left the beach and wandered through the adjoining cemetery, brushing her fingers over worn gravestones as she tried to decipher the faded names. She squinted her eyes as she tried to read the weathered inscriptions, wondering if she had any relatives resting here, their histories now etched in eroded stone.
Approaching the picturesque church, Tammy saw that the large wooden door stood open. She hesitated briefly, then stepped inside, escaping the cemetery’s melancholy air. The sanctuary was deliciously cold after the heat outside and it was empty save for a priest tidying up the front pews. He turned with a warm smile as Tammy’s footsteps echoed off the vaulted ceiling.
‘Welcome!’ he called. ‘I’m Reverend Townsend. Are you visiting our lovely seaside town?’
‘Erm yes and no.’ Tammy replied, returning his smile tentatively. ‘I’m Tammy Vaugh, Ben Hickman’s niece.’
The Reverend’s eyes lit up in recognition. ‘Of course! Ben mentioned in passing that you were coming. He’s a wonderful man. Yes and no is a very odd answer,’ he chuckled.
Tammy walked closer as she explained. ‘My visit has somehow turned into a much longer stay.’ She lifted her arms from her sides and then dropped them down again. ‘I’m about to take over Katherine’s café. It was a spur of the moment decision after my circumstances changed prior to my visit here.’
The Reverend clasped his hands in delight. ‘What wonderful news! The Lord does indeed work in mysterious ways. My prayers have been answered.’ His chuckle was light-hearted, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
Swept up in his enthusiasm, Tammy found herself confessing more about her new endeavour. ‘I’ll be keeping most of Katherine’s menu, but I’ll be expanding on it to include more baked goods come lunchtime. I’m a baker by trade,’ she concluded.
‘So it will be less of a café and more of a tearoom?’
Tammy tilted her head to the side. ‘I guess it will.’
‘Well, my dear, it sounds like you’ll be running Tammy’s Tearoom to me!’ Reverend Townsend declared.
Tammy’s pulse quickened at the suggestion. She hadn’t even thought about changing the name of the business. Her own tearoom! ‘Oh Reverend. I think you’ve found the perfect name for my business.’ She hesitated. ‘It’s a shame it will have to wait to change it. I don’t have the budget for a new sign yet.’
The Reverend merely smiled serenely. ‘Ask and it shall be given. Seek and ye shall find. Knock and it shall be opened unto you.’ I will pray for everything to work out splendidly. His calm confidence was contagious.
At that moment, Tammy was struck by inspiration. ‘Reverend,’ she began tentatively, ‘is there any chance I was christened at this church? I don’t have any records, but since my uncle has been here so long...’ she trailed off hopefully.
The Reverend’s eyes crinkled again as he regarded her. ‘As a matter of fact, you were. I performed the ceremony myself.’ Seeing Tammy’s mouth drop open, he continued, ‘And I also officiated your parents’ wedding right here in this sanctuary.’ Overwhelmed with emotion, Tammy sank slowly into a pew. ‘I’ll go and fetch the old church record books.’ He hurried away.
Tammy’s eyes looked around, her eyes finding a christening font in a corner. Her chest fluttered.I was christened here, she thought to herself. Her eyes went to the altar.And my parents were married there. She had found out more in the last twenty-four hours about her parents and her own life than she’d known in twenty-seven years alive.
The Reverend came out of a door carrying two large books. He placed them on her lap and opened the top book to a page with a bookmark peeping out. On faded parchment were two minuscule baby footprints. Tammy gasped.
‘Those are your feet. Your mother insisted on having prints of them.’ He chuckled, ‘I remember how unimpressed I’d been when she’d dipped your feet in special ink and then placed them on the page. It was most unorthodox, but I couldn’t protest because they’d been so lovely.’ Tammy traced her finger around the edge of them. The Reverend lifted the christening ledger off her lap and opened the book beneath it. He pointed to unfamiliar loopy black scrawls. ‘Those are your parent’s signatures.’
Tammy reverently brushed her fingers over the records, tracing each letter. Tears threatened to spill, and she lifted her head back for fear they would drop onto the page and blur the ink. She had no memories of her parents, just one faded old photo, no connections to who they were or the love they shared. Yet here in her hands, at last, was real, tangible proof of the family she had lost.
‘They were the first couple I ever married.’ The Reverend’s voice was soothing as he settled beside her. ‘Apparently, your mother grew up attending this church, and your father moved to town a few years before they met. It was a beautiful ceremony...’
As he recounted details, Tammy pictured her parents standing hand in hand at the altar, gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes as they exchanged vows. In her mind, she could see her mother walking down the aisle in a simple lace gown, face glowing beneath her veil. And her father, dashing and nervous in his smart suit, waiting for his bride with tears in his eyes.
The Reverend’s lilting voice faded into the background as Tammy lost herself in daydreams—her father tossing baby Tammy into the air as she giggled uncontrollably, her mother singing sweet lullabies as she rocked Tammy to sleep. They were only fantasies, and yet so real Tammy could nearly reach out and touch them.
When Reverend Townsend gently offered Tammy his handkerchief, she realised her cheeks were wet with silent tears. She glanced down to see several dark drops had fallen on her mother’s signature. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she gasped, dabbing at the blotted ink.
But the Reverend clasped her hand warmly. ‘Don’t be, my dear. Your parents would be happy their daughter has finally come home.’ His words only brought fresh tears, but Tammy’s spirit felt lighter than it had in years.
After composing herself, Tammy embraced the kindly Reverend, thanking him profusely for connecting her with the history she feared was lost. As they said goodbye at the door, a light breeze swept through the cemetery, carrying the faint sound of laughter on it. Tammy stood transfixed, letting the wind caress her tear-streaked cheeks.
Somehow, standing in the shadow of the church that had joined and blessed her family, she sensed her parents’ presence like never before. Their love surrounded her, enveloping her in a brief sensation of warmth and light.
As Tammy walked slowly back down the beach, her mind replayed each discovered treasure—her baby footprints, her parents’ signatures, the christening and wedding ceremonies. She may have no photos or memories of them, but suddenly the blanks of her past were starting to fill with colour and shape. The foundations of who she was and where she came from felt more solid, like sun-warmed sand moulding firmly beneath her feet.
One thing was clear, life in her new seaside town was turning out to be undoubtedly more interesting the longer she was here.
