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Tracy Lawrence and her elderly father, David, owners of The King’s Head pub, were our hosts for the night, along with Walter Anderson and his wife, Carolyn, whom I’d never met. Walter had run the fish and chip shop on the promenade for twenty years, and he had happily introduced me to everyone who’d moved here in the last ten years.
Like Ben and Niamh who’d moved from Dublin and bought the old liquor store on the high street and turned it into an antique and furniture store, and Ryan and James Taylor who ran the pet store, plus a rescue centre on some of Ryan’s family’s unused land not far from Fox Point.
There were so many others that after a while they all started to blend into one, but none of those faces belonged to the one person I was looking for.
Well.
Lookingoutfor.
I didn’t know if I wanted to see Noah George again.
The last time I’d seen him, he’d told me he loved me five minutes before I had to leave to go back to Bristol. I’d panicked and ran for it—which was really stupid considering I was arse over tit in love with the guy—and after a month of sporadic texting, he never spoke to me again.
I didn’t know how it had happened. Looking back, I could see it was probably just life doing what it did best—he was staying in Fox Point, unsure about his life, and I was staying in Bristol for uni.
But I’d tried. Over and over. I’d sent countless messages that would make grown me weep with embarrassment. I’d spent hours staring at my phone for a reply I knew would never come until I’d finally accepted it.
We were done.
We were over.
And he’d been too much of a coward to tell me the truth.
I wanted to see him, but at the same time, I kind of hoped he’d moved away to Siberia, and I’d never have to be near him again.
So far, he hadn’t shown up. I could only take that to mean he didn’t live here anymore, because from what I remembered, he’d adored my grandfather, and Grandpa had him. It was weird to think that he would miss this.
“I bet I know who you’re looking for, and he’s not here,” a very familiar voice said from behind me.
The owner of it leant forwards to put her glass down on the table, and two seconds later, Ashley George—the twin sister of the man who’d just been on my mind and one of my childhood best friends—took the seat next to me and smiled.
I cleared my throat and looked away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Noah’s working. He asked me to pass on his apologies.”
“To my parents, I assume. Not to me.”
“Nah, you probably wouldn’t reply anyway.”
I pressed my lips together and met her gaze. “It’s not like he ever bothered to check in, and I’m pretty sureheis the one who never replied, not the other way around. I remember texting him a few times before he stopped replying.”
Ashley grinned. “It was also ten years ago. You never replied to me either, but I’m not holding that against you. Besides, we were just kids.”
“We were eighteen. Not really kids,” I replied, but I was smiling. “It’s good to see you.”
“You, too.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “I hear you’re the new owner of the bed and breakfast.”
“How did you hear that?”
“Your dad called Uncle Tom. Something about a dead fox?”
I grimaced. “Badger. In the kitchen. Smells horrific and looks even worse.”
Ashley shuddered. “I’m sure it does. What are you planning on doing with it?”
“The badger or the B&B?”
“The B&B.” She laughed, reaching for her drink. “I assume you’re not leaving the badger there as a centrepiece.”
