Page 26 of The Clifftop Cottage

Silence followed.

Gabriel’s expression shifted, something thoughtful passing through it, but he didn’t push. “Alright then,” he said lightly. “Guess that settles it.”

He pulled the keys from his pocket, fumbling slightly as he handed them over. She turned them in her palm, glancing at the attached keyring – a tiny, slightly battered plastic witch’s broom, the sort you’d find in a Halloween clearance bin.

“Cute,” Erica said, smiling despite herself.

“Oh – uh.” Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just always been on there. Seemed wrong to change it.”

“Here was me thinking it was the last tenant’s. You said she worked here over the summer?”

“If I was less honest, I’d let her take the blame for the keyring,” he admitted. “But no – my dad had it before me, and …” He laughed. “I’ve no idea where it came from. Probably some terrible free gift from a cereal box. He used to fall for those – buy ten boxes of something awful just for a rubbish prize.”

Erica twirled the tiny broom between her fingers.

“Tradition,” he said with a shrug. Then, nodding towards the door, he added, “Oh and there’s a back road you can use. Tourists never find it. Single track, full of potholes, barely any passing places but it’ll get you here.”

Erica only half listened, already picturing herself in a bubble bath, a podcast playing softly while the wind battered the windows.

Gabriel watched her for a beat, then clapped his hands together. “Right. I’ll leave you to get acquainted.”

Before he reached the door, he turned back. “I’ll come by later with a bed and a few bits to make it feel more lived-in.” He gave a quick salute and was gone, boots crunching on gravel before the Land Rover rumbled to life and disappeared down the track.

The cottage settled into silence.

Erica stood in the middle of the room, listening to the hush around her. She hadn’t expected to be alone so quickly, but it felt different up here – knowing her sister was close, yet feeling perched at the edge of everything.

Exactly where she needed to be.

She took off her boots, unbuttoned her coat, and draped it over the back of a wooden chair. Then, with a quiet little smile, she climbed into the empty bathtub, stretching out as she gazed at the hills beyond the window.

Bliss.

10

“If there’s anything you haven’t told me, now’s the time,” Sorcha said, hands on hips, a glint in her eye as three kids tore through the kitchen like a whirlwind.

Jumpers flew off in a frenzy, socks skidded across the floor, and baby Callum sat in his high chair, face smeared with potato, watching it all with quiet resignation.

Gabriel winced at the chaos. “What, exactly, would I be keeping from you?”

Sorcha smirked. “They say Leah is a beauty, but she’s married. So I can’t help wondering about that glamorous sister of hers from London.”

Before he could reply, she spun on her heel and bellowed, “I told you to put those clothes in the washing machine, not dance around the kitchen half-naked! Upstairs – now! Dinner’s in half an hour, and you know the rule: no mucky clothes at the dinner table!”

The eldest boy, red-cheeked and defiant, opened his mouth to protest. Sorcha silenced him with a single raised finger. “So help me, Sandy – you should know better. Get the others upstairs before we have World War Three.”

The kids groaned but trudged off, shoulders hunched. Gabriel gave Sandy a wink as he passed, earning a reluctant smirk in return.

“Sis,” Gabriel said, shaking his head, “I don’t know what ridiculous ideas you’re getting in your head, but⁠—”

“No ridiculous ideas at all.” She grabbed a wooden spoon and stirred the pot on the stove. “I’m just pointing out that we briefly spoke about the cottage, and now, suddenly, you’ve got a Londoner living there.” She arched a brow. “I hope you put the rent up accordingly. They come up here with their fat wages thinking they can buy and sell anyone.”

“She’s not a Londoner,” Gabriel muttered. “Well … she doesn’t sound like one, anyway. I can’t quite place her accent, it’s a bit of a mix.”

“How exotic,” Sorcha teased. “And you, of all people, suddenly becoming a generous landlord? The man who has never let so much as a goldfish stay in that cottage?”

Gabriel exhaled, already weary. “I had someone there before. She left, remember?”