13 Few and Far Between

13

Few and Far Between

‘This is the fifth place we’ve visited since nine this morning. I’ve drunk all the tea, coffee and bottled water I can take, Sienna, unless I can grab something to eat. And I don’t mean a slice of cake.’

The novelty of driving around working through the list of B it’s my first week here,’ she explains, her eyes not wavering from Oliver’s face. ‘Give me a minute and I’ll check with our restaurant manager. Is it just the two of you?’

‘Yes,’ I reply.

‘Perfect!’ With that she hurries away, while Oliver and I look around.

‘I’d say this was the original building, wouldn’t you?’ he remarks.

‘Probably, looking at the thickness of those windowsills. But they’ve done a decent job on the modern extension, although beneath the exterior render I bet there’s some stunning stonework.’

‘Yeah … but it must take a battering being so exposed. I guess it’s easier to repaint it every few years to keep it looking fresh, rather than having to repoint the brickwork further down the line.’

‘Sorry to keep you waiting,’ the young woman calls out. ‘If you’d like to come this way, they’re just setting up a table for you.’

‘Ah, that’s wonderful, thanks!’ Oliver pipes up. ‘With views like that, we just had to try our luck!’

‘Well—’ she smiles at him, engagingly ‘—we hate to turn anyone away.’

‘How many rooms do you have?’ he enquires. I glance at him, amused that he’s playing detective.

‘Twenty in total. Originally there were only eight, I’m told, before the new addition was added by the current owners, Mr and Mrs Parker.’

She leads us up to a set of double doors, holding one open as we pass through. ‘Well, they’ve done a lovely job of it. We must come back and stay sometime soon, Sienna, for a weekend break.’

The woman’s eyes light up. ‘I’ll grab you a brochure and bring it over to you in a moment. I’ll hand you over to Sarah, the restaurant manager.’

By the time we take our seats, the receptionist is back with a handful of leaflets which she hands to Oliver, who duly thanks her.

As she walks away, I lean in a little, lowering my voice. ‘You have a fan, there. Thanks for kicking off the questions.’

‘Did it help?’

‘Well, it rules her out as a source of information if she’s only been here a week and the surname Parker doesn’t mean anything to me.’

He pulls a sad face. ‘Sorry. I thought I was helping.’

‘Oh, you were … you are.’

Sarah reappears with a glass of white wine for me and half a pint of local beer for Oliver. This time he leaves it to me.

‘Thank you. What a beautiful spot.’

‘It is, isn’t it?’

‘You must love coming to work. There’s something about the sea that’s so relaxing. We were just saying that we must come back very soon. Do all the rooms have sea views?’

‘Yes, and some have dual aspect views. Ask for room number six or eleven.’ She gives me a conspiratorial smile.

‘How long have you worked here?’

‘Ever since the new owners took over about nine years ago. It was a smaller operation back then. The expansion plans took about eighteen months to complete.’

‘Ah, that explains it then, Oliver.’ She looks at me askance but so does my trainee investigator. ‘An old friend of mine from university moved to the area a long time ago with his mother. The last I heard they were running a small hotel looking out over the beach. I can’t remember the name of the place, but I think this might be the spot.’

‘If the name Freeman rings a bell, you might just have found the right place,’ she exclaims. ‘It was a mother and her son who ran it.’

My stomach is all a flutter, and it isn’t hunger. ‘Did you know them?’

‘No. That was before my time, I’m afraid.’ She glances around, conscious that other customers are waiting for her to clear their tables, ready for dessert and coffee. ‘Anyway, can I take your orders?’

Oliver can see that I’m busy thinking and he gallantly steps in. He orders two of the specials off the fish board. Immediately Sarah is out of earshot he looks at me in earnest. ‘Does that name ring a bell?’

‘No, but the fact it was a mother and her son, does.’

‘That’s a start. I’m just …’ He draws to a halt.

‘What?’

‘I know I shouldn’t question you, but why don’t you know this person’s surname?’

He pours us both a glass of water from the jug on the table.

‘Because when they moved they wanted to disappear, so the likelihood is that they changed their names.’

Oliver puts down the jug to stare at me.

‘People actually do that?’

‘If there’s a reason to start afresh, yes, apparently.’

‘Forgive me for asking this, but you’re doing this for a friend – you’re not trying to track down someone from your past, are you?’

I gasp. ‘No! I’ve nothing to hide.’

‘Are you doing it for Elizabeth?’

My expression freezes. ‘Why do you think that?’

‘Because it’s obvious your mum doesn’t know what you’re doing, so it’s not family business. And you’d do anything for your boss because she’s like extended family to you.’

Inwardly, I groan.

‘You can trust me to be discreet, Sienna. Really you can. You’re the only person with whom I’ve shared the fact that I had feelings for Daniela. Well, until Nigel appeared in her life and swept her off her feet. It was a huge deal for me to admit to that, even though in hindsight I can see that it wouldn’t have worked out between us, even if she had felt a little spark of attraction. We were only destined to be friends and I hope I haven’t alienated Nigel in any way because if I have, it might make her suspicious and—’

I put up my hand to stop him right there. ‘It’s fine. She popped in to see me before I left, and your name cropped up. When you didn’t respond to an email she sent out to the cast, she was worried that she might have upset you in some way. I said you’d been busy but you do need to get back to her. I also took the opportunity to tell her that I felt I owed you – several times over – which is why I’ve offered to put you up whenever you’re in Darlingham. She thinks you might find the house a little noisy with the kids, that’s all.’ I don’t add that she was delighted to think I’d finally have a man sleeping at Oakleigh, even though it does make me smile.

He lifts his glass to his mouth, then pauses for a second. ‘Thanks for having my back. I’d be truly mortified if—’

‘Two baked sea bass with lemon butter sauce, capers and lattice potatoes,’ Sarah gushes, as she lays the plates down in front of us. ‘Enjoy!’

Oliver and I stare at each other for a second. ‘I understand,’ I reply, softly. ‘Let’s eat.’

It’s time to relax, unwind a little and gaze out at the stunning view. The sun has put in an appearance, and while the breeze is bitingly cold, the sea is a sight to behold, as the soft peaks shimmer with an enchanting golden hue.

‘I’m not happy about you paying for lunch, Sienna,’ Oliver complains, as we step out onto the terrace that runs along one entire side of Rock House Hotel.

‘I told you, it’s courtesy of Elizabeth, she insisted.’

‘Well, it’s kind of her but she doesn’t owe me anything.’

‘She does, actually. The play is an important part of the Christmas Eve celebrations and you’ve managed to snag us a wonderful fairground ride for the kids in the afternoon, for free. Freddie would have been over the moon about that.’

‘Did he miss the buzz of city life after he and Elizabeth made the move?’

I pause for a moment to consider that question. ‘I guess he did in a way and maybe that’s why he was always up for throwing a big party. The more people he could include, the merrier. When he first retired, he was deluged with invitations to attend medical conventions as a guest speaker. He certainly knew how to capture an audience’s attention and his sense of humour had an air of flamboyancy to it.’

‘That must have been a little dull for Elizabeth,’ Oliver points out.

‘Oh,’ I laugh, dismissively. ‘She rarely accompanied him. At that time the Hall was undergoing major renovations and the builders worked six days a week, sometimes seven. I think he often accepted invitations simply to take a break away from it. Elizabeth was in her element but he found the noise and the disruption an annoyance.’

Oliver chuckles. ‘Well, between them they ended up with a beautiful home and a long and happy marriage. You can’t knock that.’

We saunter over to the waist-high perimeter wall to stare out over the water. Something tells me this is where James and his mother, Briony, settled. It would have been perfect for them and manageable without the new extension.

Living on the edge of a small village community in a quiet and rural backwater would have given them a sense of privacy and time to integrate with the community when they were ready. Over the years I have no doubt that the place itself has grown and attracted more tourists, but it seems likely that after her death, James would have decided to move on yet again. And who could blame him? I wonder whether he’s married. He’d be in his early thirties now, by my reckoning.

‘You’re deep in thought.’ Oliver steps closer. ‘Is this the end of the trail? The man you’re looking for could be anywhere and you’ve run out of leads.’

I sigh. ‘I know. It would be nice to think that he’s happy, wherever he ended up. Through no fault of his own, he was distant from his wider family and that must have felt rather isolating at times. Especially when they began their new life here.’

The sound of a chainsaw kicking into life makes us both spin around. Curious, Oliver walks over to the far side of the terrace. It isn’t until I realise he’s chatting to someone over the wall that I drag myself away from gazing at the lustrous and mesmerising swell of the waves.

‘… a lot of work for you.’ Oliver turns, hearing my footsteps. ‘Sorry, Sienna, I got distracted. Are you ready to go?’

I nod my head as I peer over the wall and see an older man looking up at Oliver.

‘Hi,’ I call out. ‘You’re going a great job.’

‘But I’m out of petrol,’ the man laughs. ‘Sod’s Law, isn’t it?’

He’s perched rather precariously, as it’s quite a slope. The grassy bank leads down to a sudden drop, beyond which is a collection of sharp rocks and deep water.

The man pulls himself up to stand on a flat, shallow ledge while he untethers himself. His head and chest are now visible and we watch as he wraps the line – which is anchored to a metal hook embedded in the top of the wall – around his arm several times. Oliver leans over, extending his hand to grab the chainsaw from him.

‘Appreciated. You appeared at just the right time.’

Oliver lays the heavy bit of kit on the floor and then immediately extends his hand to help the man clamber up onto the wall. ‘That’s quite a perilous job. You need a good head for heights, that’s for sure!’

‘It’s easy to miss your footing, but I’m a dab hand at it now.’ He stops to catch his breath. ‘It’s just that the wind is blowing up, so it’s time to quit before I make a mistake. I should have waited until Monday when my assistant was around, but we were worried if the branch toppled off the edge it might hit a passing boat, given the wide overhang. Some people sail very close to the cliffs, looking for caves.’

Oliver nods his head. ‘Best to be safe than sorry.’

The man swings his legs over the wall, while he detaches the rope from a harness around his waist and begins rolling it up.

‘Anyway, thanks again. Right place, right time!’ The man sticks out his hand and the two men shake.

‘I’m Oliver and this is Sienna.’

‘I’m Martin. Are you staying at the hotel?’

‘Sadly, no,’ I reply. ‘My mum lives a couple of miles from Charlestown, and we’ve been exploring. We’ve just had an amazing lunch in the restaurant, though.’

He stands, heaving the large coil of rope over his shoulder, and bends to grab the chainsaw in the other.

‘I’ll carry that.’ Oliver steps forward to take it from him.

‘That’s kind of you.’ The man turns to lean back over the wall, heaving a backpack up and slinging it over his other shoulder. ‘My van’s in the car park.’

‘I’m assuming you’re a local?’ Oliver engages him in conversation as I follow on behind them.

‘Yes. Born and bred in the area, that’s me. I do general maintenance. Mainly outside work.’

‘Sienna here thinks she knows the people who sold this place to the current owners,’ Oliver continues, and the man turns around to look at me.

‘Is that so? Mrs Freeman was a lovely woman. Everyone thought highly of her.’

Well done, Oliver. ‘I didn’t know her personally, but her son was a friend of a friend.’

‘Oh, Ashley! He was one of those lads who wanted to have a go at everything,’ he laughs. ‘He was like my sidekick every time his mother called me in to do a job.’

My mouth goes dry. ‘It must have been a wrench to leave this place.’

‘It was but it wasn’t the same after his mum passed.’

‘Yes, I’d heard about that, but my friend said they lost touch. Do you know where he is now?’

‘Him and his partner run a gift shop in Charlestown – Driftwood, you might know it? It’s in that stone building they call The Old Fisherman’s Store.’

I can’t believe what I’m hearing, and I must look as dazed as I feel.

‘What a coincidence, we’re headed that way next, so we’ll pop in and say “hi”,’ Oliver replies, being on the ball. ‘Where do you want this?’ He indicates to the chainsaw.

‘I’ll open up the back of the van. I don’t keep anything on site these days. The Parkers are good clients, but with Mrs Freeman and her son, they needed more of a hand … you know, what with her being a widow. She was kind enough to let me use that old shed over there to house a lot of my stuff, as most of my jobs are in this area. It’s different now, of course, and I have a lock-up garage in town.’

All credit to Briony. Hearing Martin acknowledge that it must have been a struggle for her at first, rings true. It’s easy to see why James was eager to learn, to ease the load for his mother. According to Briony’s cousin, James … I mean, Ash, was about eleven, or twelve, when they moved here. He was too young to have many life skills, but I’m sure he learnt a lot from Martin.

‘Here, Sienna.’ Oliver holds out his hand. ‘Take the keys and I’ll join you in a bit.’

I leave the two men to walk over to Martin’s van, hardly daring to believe that in the next hour, or two, I could be face to face with Elizabeth’s grandson.

The Old Fisherman’s Store is home to three separate businesses, each having its own floor. Driftwood, advertised as nature’s gifts , is at the top of two rather steep flights of stairs but the views it commands out over the harbour at Charlestown are incredible. Gazing out at the tall ships moored up, all battened down to withstand the winter storms, would normally be enough to inspire my imagination. But today it isn’t wistful images of sailors milling around, saying goodbye to loved ones before they boarded their boats, that fill my head. I’m standing here psyching myself up, wondering whether or not I should march up to the desk in the far corner and ask the attractive young woman if Ash Freeman is in the building.

To my surprise, Oliver grabs my hand and I turn to look at him.

‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

I nod my head, unable to speak until I clear my throat and lean into him, my voice low. ‘I’m going to wander around taking a few snaps of the displays with my phone. I’ll find something that’s a one-off and when I hand it to you, can you walk over to the desk and ask if they have another one like it?’

From the constant clatter and general noises that intermittently fill the air, it’s obvious that someone, possibly several people, could be working away in the back rooms behind the desk.

‘Okaaay … but why?’

‘If a man appears, I want to take a photo of him, discreetly, of course. Then I’ll come over and pay for the item.’

‘What if it’s an old guy, or the woman says they only have what’s on show?’

‘Then, I leave with a gift for Grandma. Ash might not be here today, but I note that they open Sundays, we could pop in again tomorrow.’

I slowly slip my hand out of his, our fingertips touching for a few brief seconds as we disconnect, and I search in my bag for my phone. ‘Goodness,’ I reply, raising my voice a little, ‘Grandma would adore this place!’

Oliver looks a tad surprised, before he twigs what I’m doing. ‘That means we’re going to be here a while,’ he groans. ‘Let’s split up, darling, and shout if you see anything you think will be perfect for her.’

Hearing our chatter, the young woman’s eyes follow Oliver, and not me, as I mingle among the half a dozen other people browsing. Luckily, I’m not the only one taking the odd snap here and there. It’s not solely items made out of driftwood, but skilfully hand-carved gifts and beautiful salad bowls turned on a lathe. There are also a lot of beautifully crafted silver boxes, a range of jewellery with semi-precious stones and handmade candles. It’s a delightful place to shop, but I need to find a solitary item and Oliver is already glancing over at me, impatiently.

‘Oliver,’ I call out. ‘Come and take a look at this!’

He strolls over to me nonchalantly, looking slightly bored as if shopping isn’t his thing. I find it hard not to smirk as he doesn’t turn a hair, instantly morphing into some imaginary role. ‘Already? That’s unusual for you,’ he chuckles.

Having taken a photo of it, I place my phone down on the display unit while I gingerly pick up the piece. It’s a gorgeous length of knotted driftwood, into which holes have been drilled and four tea lights sit in the recesses. ‘It’s perfect, but when Mum sees it she’ll want one for the centre of her dining table, too.’

Oliver takes it from me. ‘I’ll find out if they have another in stock.’ His smile is playful as he turns on his heels and heads for the sales desk. I continue to browse, taking a few more random photos of items that catch my eye.

I’m straining my ears, but I can’t hear what he’s saying to the woman as they’re too far away. The sound of a buzzer kicking into life attracts my attention and I slowly make my way towards Oliver. Suddenly, a man appears in the doorway and just like that I get the shot, slip the phone into my bag and step up the pace.

‘Ash, I think this is the last one, isn’t it?’ the woman behind the counter checks.

My goodness, my heart is literally pounding in my chest, and I can feel the heat rising up from my neck.

‘Yep, ’fraid so,’ he confirms.

While I’m gathering my wits about me, Oliver turns to face me. ‘Do you want to look for something else for your mum, darling?’ I’m standing here blinking at him, not sure quite what to do, or say. ‘Or give this to her and look for something else for your grandma?’

‘Oh … right, um …’

‘Look, if you can give me a couple of days,’ Ash interrupts, ‘I have some more driftwood drying out. I can make something up for you. Each one is a unique shape, obviously. What size did you want? The same as this one, or smaller … larger?’

It’s hard to take in Ash’s words. I’m seeing his grandfather’s hazel-green eyes staring back at me; the same flecks of gold that lit up Freddie’s eyes like a starburst, make my heart skip a beat.

‘Oh, that’s kind of you. We’re heading home tomorrow, but my mother lives close by and can collect it herself. If you can make one that’s a little bigger so it accommodates five tea lights, that would be perfect,’ I enthuse. But it’s not over a custom gift, it’s the realisation that the search is probably over. It shouldn’t take the solicitors long to follow the trail that led me here.

‘Hey, no problem. We like unique and bespoke, don’t we, Jasmine?’ They exchange fleeting smiles.

I watch the young woman carefully wrap the gift in pale blue tissue paper and notice she’s wearing a beautiful white gold engagement ring. She slides the package into a smart brown carrier bag with string handles, sporting the shop’s logo.

‘We open seven days a week, ten till four,’ she informs us. ‘Perhaps give Ash until Thursday to get it ready?’ She glances at him for confirmation, and he nods his head, giving us a parting smile before disappearing back into the workshop.

As I make the payment with my credit card I’m still in a daze, so Oliver grabs the bag, thanks the young woman and catches my free hand to steer me towards the exit.

Once we’re out on the small landing, he immediately turns to look at me.

‘You think it’s him, don’t you? Did you get your shot?’

‘Yes, and yes.’ And I’m reeling. My heart is still pounding so fiercely in my chest that my legs feel a little unsteady and Oliver tightens his grip on my hand. I’m so very grateful for his support as we make our way back out into the fresh air.

The impossible has happened, but I’m not sure exactly what to do next. It feels wrong to just walk away and yet that’s the remit I was given. But I’m feeling conflicted and I don’t really know why.