Page 10 of The Clifftop Cottage

“Erica.”

“You’re not from around here,” he said, not unkindly.

“Is it that obvious?”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re standing where locals don’t.”

She huffed despite herself and glanced back at the edge, then at him.

“Good to know I’m making a strong first impression.”

Gabriel adjusted his coat, already stepping back.

“Take care, Erica. And keep a bit of distance from the edge – the ground’s not as steady as it looks.”

The dog rose immediately, falling into step beside him without instruction.

He gave a small nod, then turned and headed back along the path, unhurried but certain, the dog glancing back once before following.

Erica watched them go, long after he’d disappeared down the path.

Her chest was still tight, though she wasn’t sure why.

4

Erica sat at the kitchen table and took her first bite.

Warm. Hearty. Familiar.

She hadn’t realised how hungry she was until she tasted it. Then it hit all at once, and she ate quickly.

“I haven’t eaten anything like this in ages,” she said, half to herself.

She thought of her usual meals – salads grabbed between meetings, lentils, things chosen for efficiency and health, rather than pleasure.

The taste tugged her backward in time. A school night. The table crowded with plates. Her father leaning back in his chair, her mother ladling gravy, laughing at something one of them had said.

“Mum’s recipe,” Leah said, pleased. “Looks like the walk did you good.” She nudged Maisie, who was craning her neck to watch the television in the next room, where a man appeared to be riding a dinosaur. “Maisie Moo. Eat.”

Erica took another bite of dumpling this time, soft and soaking up the gravy. No matter how many places they’d lived in, travelling with their father over the years, this meal had never changed. It had always tasted like home. Whatever that really meant.

She didn’t realise Leah was watching her until she spoke.

“You okay?”

Erica nodded, her mouth full, and kept eating. The familiar flavours settled something in her, easing the tightness she’d been carrying all day.

Later, Maisie mounted a determined campaign to stay up by negotiating, protesting, bargaining in ways Erica recognised instantly. Leah was unmoved, shepherding her to bed with a calm, well-practised authority.

When the house finally fell quiet, Erica found herself back on the bed, laptop resting on her knees.

The email chime sounded.

Once, that sound had thrilled her. It meant opportunity, momentum, proof she was needed. But tonight it landed like a slap, sharp and unwelcome.

She stared at the screen. Her inbox glowed with a number so high it barely felt real.

Harden up, Erica.