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Amelia smiled. ‘I’m more than happy to help. Sounds like fun.’
‘Yes, it will be if everything goes to plan . . .’
‘A couple of years ago the lights didn’t switch on after the countdown and Doris was furious,’ explained Thea.
‘Oh dear, what happened?’
‘Someone had forgotten to plug them in,’ said Grant.
‘But the way Doris was marching around you would think we were switching Oxford Street’s lights on.’
Eventually they said goodbye, and as Amelia turned to walk away, she overheard Grant say to Thea, ‘Do you think she’ll hang around for a while?’
‘I hope so. She’s a breath of fresh air.’
Amelia smiled. To think that when she arrived here a few weeks ago she wanted to be alone. She had been so miserable and unhappy, yet in a short space of time she could now see a ray of light at the end of the tunnel.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Some mornings, Amelia liked to wrap up warm and take her coffee down to the end of the garden to sit on the bench and watch the sea. She enjoyed listening to the gulls and the odd bark from a dog. It was lovely seeing the village wake up and come alive, and she watched parents walk along the beach taking their children to school, and heard the sound of cars in the distance. There would always be walkers, some preoccupied with their dogs and others holding coffee cups, chatting and laughing as they walked. Life was lovely and uncomplicated in these moments when she simply focused on being.
She looked across to the Holy Isle and reminded herself that she needed to try to get over to visit sooner rather than later. She had visited the website and noticed they held yoga retreats, which she thought sounded interesting. She and Suna used to go to yoga together sometimes, early before work. She smiled as she thought about her friend and how much she missed her. They kept playing phone tag with each other, and at that very moment she wished Suna was sitting on the bench next to her.
Pulling her phone from her pocket, she pulled up Suna’s name and hit the call button.
‘Hello,’ Suna said.
‘Good morning. Oh, you’ve no idea how good it is to hear your voice,’ said Amelia.
‘I’m sorry. Things have been a bit manic,’ Suna said, her voice still more distant than usual.
‘Have I caught you at a bad moment?’
‘No,’ she said, her voice muffled. ‘Give me a second.’
Amelia waited a moment until Suna came back on the line. ‘Sorry about that. Too many folks bustling around in here. So, how are you? What’s been happening?’
‘Oh, this and that. Lots of walking and exploring. And last night I went to the local pub.’
‘What, they’ve got a pub up there?’
Amelia tried to dismiss her comment, even though it irked her. ‘Several actually . . . and I had a lovely red wine.’
‘Sounds good. So, are you ever going to come back?’
Amelia glanced across the beach, wondering if she was being overly sensitive or whether there really was an undertone in Suna’s voice. ‘Not sure yet,’ she said.
‘What about Christmas?’
Amelia shrugged. ‘I’m not sure, Suna. I’m just playing it all by ear.’
‘Oh . . .’
‘How are things with you? How is work?’
‘Same old stuff, you know. I don’t think you’re missing much.’
Amelia wanted to ask her why she was so keen that she return but bit her tongue. ‘You could come and visit?’
