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35
Lettie
After waving goodbye to Esther’s taxi, Lettie walked through the village, a muddle of thoughts and emotions.
Esther had told her the reunion went well and she’d be keeping in touch with Claude. And knowing the two of them would be forging a new friendship made Lettie’s heart glad. But her thoughts kept returning to Corey and the distrust on his face when he’d accused her of deceiving him and his grandmother. Lettie had tried to finish the Allford-Starcross feud by finding out the truth about Iris and Cornelius, but all she’d ended up doing was rekindling it.
‘Sorry, Iris,’ murmured Lettie, dodging pushchairs and children waving ice creams. ‘It’s all been a bit of a cock-up.’
And although time was marching on and she should be heading back to Driftwood House to collect her case, she decided to take a walk first – to clear her head and try to make sense of all that had happened over the last two weeks.
Reaching the edge of the village, where clustered cottages gave way to winding country roads with high Devon hedges, she could smell the sea and hear gulls calling to each other above her head.
Lettie climbed up the steep path until she came to the top of Cora Head. Then she walked towards the edge of the cliff. She felt a familiar tremble in her legs but kept on walking until she reached the end of the land. If she could survive Buster’s rescue, she could manage to stand here, high above the sea that was crashing into the cliff face below.
The sea looked magnificent today, with a huge swell that was sending white-crested rollers towards the beach. The sky had clouded over but the sun had pushed its way through and a shaft of light was falling on Heaven’s Cove, making cottage windows sparkle and brightening the bunting outside The Smugglers Haunt. In the heart of the village, not far from the ancient church, Lettie could see the dark roof that covered Cornelius’s shrine of a bedroom – a family tragedy from so long ago that had reached out from the past and spread its heartbreak across the decades.
And now, according to the papers she’d found and to Florence herself, this piece of land belonged to Lettie. This magnificent headland she was standing on. She could hardly believe it. She’d never owned land or property, and that wasn’t about to change. There was no way she could accept it, and yet…
She imagined building a house here, one like Driftwood House, and enjoying the peace and the amazing view all year round. She imagined herself in the doorway, in the early morning light, with Corey standing beside her. She shook her head. Where did that come from? Corey thought she was a deceptive cheat. Tears sprang into her eyes and she blinked furiously until the view became less smudged and blurry.
A chilly breeze had started winding its way around her bare arms and making her shiver. It really was time to leave this place and head back to her real life in London. She’d simply never mention the piece of land again. Florence and Corey would just have to keep it.
With one last look at the view, she made her way down the headland path and walked towards the village store for a sandwich because she’d hardly eaten all day. It would also give her a chance to say goodbye to the store owner, Bert. He’d always been cheerful when she’d called in to buy bits and pieces over the last couple of weeks. But she deliberately walked the longer way round to avoid walking past Florence’s cottage.
She was in the store, choosing between coronation chicken and egg and cress, when a car screeched to a halt on the narrow pavement outside. Simon jumped out and rushed into the shop.
‘Lettie! I was just on my way to Driftwood House when I saw you coming in here.’
‘Hi, Simon,’ said Lettie, deciding on egg. ‘Now’s not a good time because I’m heading back to London.’
‘I don’t blame you. I’ve done a fair bit of business around these parts over the last couple of weeks but I can’t wait to get out of this hole either.’ His voice was so loud! Lettie cringed as Bert looked up from the counter and glared at them. ‘But I hear you have good news.’
‘You know more than me then.’
Simon grinned. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘I really don’t.’ Lettie knew she sounded fractious but she wasn’t in the mood for some strange kind of guessing game.
‘I hear that congratulations are in order because you’re now the owner of a prime piece of village real estate. Well played!’ When Lettie said nothing, he grabbed hold of her hands and continued: ‘You own the headland – Lovers’ Link, Cora Head, whatever you want to call it. Word in the village is that Florence has given it to you, for some reason I have yet to understand.’
‘How the hell did you hear about that?’ asked Lettie, removing her hands from Simon’s grasp.
‘Is it true then? Wow, respect! How on earth did you pull that off?’
‘Tell me how you heard,’ repeated Lettie, not interested in Simon’s congratulations.
‘You know what this place is like – a total gossip mill. Usually they seem to be talking about me these days, but I overheard people in the pub discussing you owning the headland. That’s amazing, Lettie.’
‘How did people know in the pub?’
‘You and Corey were talking about it in the street, apparently. Arguing, I hear, which I can’t say I’m surprised about because that man is a total arse and I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.’
‘Is nothing private in this place?’
Simon grinned again. ‘Seems not. So how come the headland is now yours?’
Lettie sighed. If rumours were flying around, she might as well take the chance to set them straight. ‘I found out that Cornelius, Florence’s brother, left it to my great-aunt and her descendants. There’s a deed outlining his wishes.’
