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‘Then Claude was your best bet, I’m afraid. You’re welcome to take any of our information with you.’
She went back to unloading her leaflets while Lettie selected pamphlets about Dartmoor and a local pottery and stepped back outside into the salt air.
She walked on through the village and sat on a bench by the side of the crystal-clear stream that ran down to the sea. A child in yellow wellingtons was paddling in the water and laughing when splashes hit his face.
A few days had gone by already and all she’d learned about Iris was that she’d once known Florence’s brother, who was now dead. The riddle of the key and letter remained, and another mystery had been added – why did Florence hate Iris so much?
Lettie sighed because soon she’d be back in London, looking for a job. She really should be looking for one now. Little flutterings of panic clutched her heart when she thought of her savings running out, but everything felt rather unreal and detached here. Heaven’s Cove was like a little bubble where the real world couldn’t catch up with her.
But it would catch up soon enough before she found out more about Iris. And she’d have let her great-aunt down. Iris hadn’t asked much from her when she was alive. Lettie’s company was enough.
Find out for me, darling girl. Iris’s whisper sounded in her ear.
Lettie got to her feet and brushed dust from the back of her summer dress. There was nothing else for it. She would have to go back to see Claude, and try to persuade him again to help her. She owed Iris at least that.
She’d almost reached the quay when Belinda stepped directly in front of her. The only way to avoid the woman was to step around her and the way was blocked on one side by café tables on the pavement, and on the other by milling tourists.
‘Did you find her?’ demanded Belinda. ‘Mrs Allford. Florence,’ she clarified when Lettie gazed at her blankly.
‘I did, thank you.’
‘And was she helpful?’
‘As much as she could be.’
When Belinda stayed stock still, waiting for more information, Lettie did her best to change the subject. ‘I’ve just been to the tourist office and I saw the village hall. What a lovely building.’
Belinda almost purred. ‘It is, isn’t it, though it’s such an old building, it’s often in need of repair. I don’t want to be too big-headed but I doubt it would have survived without all of the fundraising I’ve organised.’
Lettie had a sudden thought. ‘It’s great that the hall houses the tourist office. It’s just a shame that there’s no museum in the village that celebrates local history and culture.’
‘Mmm.’ Belinda’s eyes narrowed. ‘That would be a good idea, if we had enough information and objects to fill it.’
‘If anyone could set up something like that, it would be you, by the sound of it.’
Flattery got you everywhere and, to be fair, with Belinda involved in so many parts of village life, it was probably true anyway.
The older woman smiled. ‘I do believe you’re right and perhaps it’s something I should be looking into. You’ve certainly given me food for thought. What made you think of it?’
‘I love history and this village is a little like a living museum anyway. Its rich past should be properly celebrated so it’s never lost to progress.’
‘Well said.’ Belinda gave Lettie a searching glance. ‘And you’re more interested than most in Heaven’s Cove history, of course, because of your ties to the village.’
Ties that were still unclear. Lettie nodded, keen to get away and Belinda stepped to the side.
‘Well, I mustn’t keep you. Where are you off to?’
‘I thought I’d call in on Claude.’
Belinda’s parting words, ‘Good luck,’ didn’t fill Lettie with confidence.
