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She turned her attention to the dogs. “Baxter! Lucy, Jack!” She leaned forwards and gave all three dogs a good scratch on the head before she looked back up at me. “Matthew’s dogs, a pretty face, up early… You wouldn’t happen to be Eva, would you?”
Yes, but who are you? was what I wanted to say.
What I actually said was, “That’s me.”
Way to go, Eva.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Elin, Christopher’s wife.” She leaned forwards to shake my hand. “And this little monkey is Ceri, our granddaughter.”
“Hi, Ceri. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Ceri leaned closer to Elin, keeping her blue eyes on me. “Pwincess?”
Oh.
That was bloody adorable.
Elin coughed. “Countess, Ceri. Not a princess.” She added a look as if to say she was sorry, but it was fine.
I barely had my head around being Countess.
Never mind a bleeding princess.
“Pwincess. Castle.” She pointed a chubby little finger at the house, then at me.
Elin inhaled, before slowly letting it out in a sigh. “Fine. Yes, she’s a princess who lives in the castle.”
I covered my mouth with my hand in the hope Ceri wouldn’t notice me laughing at Elin’s exasperation. “She sounds like she keeps you on your toes.”
“I need a few more toes to keep up,” she joked. “Exploring the garden?”
“Yes, it’s quite nice and Matthew is still asleep, so I thought I’d get some fresh air.”
“That’s what we’re doing,” she said, reaching to touch Ceri’s head, but she wasn’t there.
We both looked around and found her rolling Jack’s ball along the path. Every time Jack brought it back, he’d drop it at her feet, and wait patiently for her to pick it up again.
Elin laughed. “They’re such good dogs.”
“They really are,” I agreed.
“I need to get this one back now,” Elin said, touching my arm. “But why don’t you come for a cup of tea this week? Chris can show you the way to the cottage, but we aren’t far.”
“That would be lovely, thank you.”
“Perfect. I’ll see if I can’t help you get settled in. You just let Chris know when you’ve got half an hour.” She squeezed my arm. “Ceri.” She finished off in Welsh, and the little girl dutifully trudged along back to her. Elin waved goodbye, and after she and Ceri had disappeared, I turned the dogs around to head back to the house myself.
Everyone here was so nice.
There wasn’t a single person who’d said a bad word to me, and as I brushed my fingers across Baxter’s head, gently flicking the tips of his ears as we walked, I couldn’t help but ask myself if settling in here wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
• • •
One week in North Wales came with little fanfare—and the much-awaited arrival of all my stuff.
It was funny how that worked out.
It was almost as if people didn’t want to get sued.
Of course, if they’d just done their job in the first place, it’d all be fine, and I wouldn’t have had to threaten them.
Still.
At least I had my things.
And to celebrate, I was going to attempt to drive by myself.
I know. Big stuff.
Thank God for satellite navigation, though. There was no way I was going to make that trip by myself without getting lost. Half the roads on this island all seemed to be single track country lanes that spread out into more single-track country lanes.
Like a spiderweb.
I was saying this as someone who grew up in the country, but Anglesey took the cake.
Also, I knew where all those roads went.
For all I knew, I could end up in Cardiff.
All right, so that was somewhat of an exaggeration. It was the Isle of Anglesey for a reason, and there were only two ways on and off the island.
The Britannia Bridge and the Menai Bridge.
Yep. Both bridges.
Put simply, if you hit a bridge, you’d gone too far.
Somehow, I made it from Menai Castle and into Beaumaris without getting lost. I sent a thank you up to the Google Maps gods and went on a hunt for a parking space. It was almost impossible—a combination of the good weather and the upcoming school break had the place packed, and it took me four car parks and twenty minutes to find a spot.
It was a good thing I had to deliver this sketch of Lucky to Dafydd at the pub, or I’d have been out of here approximately eighteen minutes ago.
Maybe even nineteen.
After I paid for parking, I carefully picked up my bag and the sketch and made my way to The Prince of Wales pub. I once again had to pull the location up on my phone and set a route to the pub so I didn’t get lost. Beaumaris had endless little streets, and I couldn’t help but dawdle.
The architecture here was incredible. Beaumaris Castle was an absolute fortress, made of huge stone, and it was almost a shame that it was tucked away at the end of the promenade.
