Bedlam & Breakfast at a Devon Seaside Guesthouse Read online

  “What about her flatmate. Where will you sleep?”

  “Don’t worry, Mum.” Emily’s smile wavered. “He’s gone. I’m moving in next week.”

  I jerked back in shock. The date was set! This would be happening. But my fear began to ebb. My relationship with Lucy may be strained but she was sensible and loved her sister. I’d miss Emily – more than words could say – but, no matter how much it would hurt to see her go, I wouldn’t try to stop her.

  “How will you move all your things?”

  Two packing boxes sat by the wall. One had become a table of sorts, piled with a mound of books, some littering the floor, while various garments were strewn over the one with the crosses/kisses. Emily crawled across the bed to grab her jacket from where it had been slung over the corner of the box. As she dragged it off, a couple of tops slid to the floor, most likely to stay there until she moved out. She reached into the pocket and handed me a letter.

  “Look it’s all there. The pay rise and all. They’re even offering to put towards my travel expenses back. But I don’t need much more than Lucy’s petrol money. She’s coming down next weekend to fetch me.”

  The letter was dated from last week. Just a few days after Jason spoke to her. She’d worked fast.

  She misread the look on my face, adding, “Don’t worry. She can stay in my room. I know you’re full.”

  “So, between you it’s all sorted.” I didn’t mean to sound crabby. After all, Jason had all but told her to go. Not that he knew that his suggestion to change her job had been taken a stage further. “Have you told your dad?”

  “Not yet,” she said. “I was sort-of hoping you’d do that.”

  Chapter 6

  Shona and Kim’s B&B featured a Buddha statue on the front page of its website. I’d wondered why until I walked into their hallway to find it the centrepiece of their reception table draped by trails of ivy that sat in a pot on the shelf above. When Shona told me she had enough to do and was buggered if she was adding another plant to her list, I’d been surprised to learn the ivy was fake. Later, I’d rubbed the leaves to check, rewarded by an imperceptible smear of dust and the definite feel of plastic.

  As usual, Jason snuck a few of the humbugs from the bowl in front of Buddha. I gave him a look rarely used since Emily and Lucy had grown too old to be reprimanded but he smiled sweetly at me and sauntered through to the lounge.

  “How is it going?” Kim said.

  A tray sat on the coffee table heaped with mugs, a jug and teapot and a plate of chocolate biscuits. After Kim had phoned to invite us round, she must have shot through to the kitchen to get everything ready, knowing that when I said we’d be two minutes I meant it, especially as we had to get to the butchers before it closed.

  Not for the first time, I dropped onto the settee only to find my knees higher than my backside as the cushion ended up embedded in the springs below. Jason’s two previous offers to mend the broken supports had been waved aside by Shona and Kim.

  “We’re getting that sorted,” Shona said as I extracted myself from the dip to plug the gap with a couple of small cushions. “We’ve got a bit of plywood.”

  Kim handed me a mug of tea. “Is it this weekend Lucy is leaving?”

  Shona slurped her tea and grimaced. As she reached across for the sugar pot, she said, “We’ll have to do something nice for her. Maybe a small party.”

  I took a hurried sip to stop myself blurting my feelings. I dreaded the coming weekend. Unlike a Uni student, there was no promise of a return after each term or a homecoming at the end. The chances of Emily moving back to Torringham in the future were practically zero. From now on, our relationship would be the occasional break when either of us could get away or via Skype. Worse, if she met someone I could end up being a virtual grandparent too. Stop it! Was I really worrying about grandchildren when Emily was just twenty? I needed a change of subject.

  “I found two pairs of tights tied to the bed frame this morning.”

  “That’s nothing.” Shona strolled over to the cabinet, coming back with a cerise-coloured thing in a see-through bag. As she laid it on the coffee table, she burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles while Kim buried her face in her hands. Jason and I shrugged at each other in confusion, but we had no choice than to wait until they were both in a state to talk.

  “Kim’s aunt left it behind this morning. She’s like nearly seventy odd and goes to church and – you won’t believe this bit – she asked for twin beds for her and her new boyfriend.”

  “Is it an asthma inhaler?” Jason said.

  “An asthma inhaler!” Shona screeched, now bent over double with laughter. “What are you like?”

  Even I could tell the pink curvy thing wasn’t an inhaler although it did have some similarity: both had white bits that jutted out, although this one had a smaller and rounder tip. Shona’s reaction gave me an inkling what it might be, although I couldn’t for the life of me work out what it did.

  Kim broke through Shona’s cackling. “Going to church doesn’t stop her having fun. I mean this is the twenty-first century.”

  “But your auntie of all people!” Shona clutched her chest and fell back into the sofa. “Oh my days. I’ll never be able to face her again without laughing.”

  “Well pity me,” Kim said. “I’ll never be able to look at my mum the same way again either.”

  “They’re identical twins,” Shona said. “Hey, Kim. When your mum comes down, we’ll have to check her drawers.” Then she squealed. “Drawers! Geddit?”

  It was annoying being on the outside of a joke, not quite getting it but not wishing to look stupid by admitting it either. I guessed it was a sex toy but nothing like your typical vibrator. I’d seen enough of them from the Ann Summers parties that were all the rage a few decades ago. Thankfully, Jason butted in.

  “So, come on, what is it?”

  “It’s an expensive little sucker.” Shona laughed. “Gives the best-ever orgasm apparently. Hope it didn’t disappoint Auntie as we know she likes the best of everything.”

  “It’s a clitoral stimulator,” Kim said, an edge of primness to her voice. “And if Shona doesn’t stop going on, I’ll empty her drawers out and see how she likes it. You should see some of the things she has.”

  “I’m not ashamed,” Shona said. “Unlike your auntie, I am what it says on the tin.”

  “Beans? Full of hot air?” Kim turned to us. “Now about Emily. I like Shona’s idea for a party.”

  ♦

  We left their B&B, wishing I hadn’t mentioned our need to pick up the butcher’s order before it closed at five.

  “You’ll be going past the post office,” Shona had said. “Do us a favour. If I package it up can you take it for us?”

  The weather forecasters had promised a beautiful spring day and their predictions were proved right as the late afternoon sun warmed our faces and the gentle breeze blew away the cobwebs of a day spent indoors, albeit in two places. We slalomed past clumps of tourists, who meandered through the street weighed down by towels and buckets after a day at the beach, oblivious to our need to make it to the post office and butchers before they closed. A group nestled by the windows of the knick-knack shop, some obscuring the entrance to the butchers so, at first heart-stopping glance, it looked as though he’d closed early for the day. Thankfully, the butchers seemed to be the only empty place in Torringham so we were in and out within minutes. Our luck didn’t last. As we took our places at the back of a post office queue that stretched into the main aisle of the grocery store, we cursed Shona.

  “I hope we get to the front before closing time,” Jason said.

  “I hope they don’t ask what’s inside this,” I said.

  “You worry too much. Why would they?”

  I glanced at the name on the package. Hilda Martin. Strange how names could be used to label people. Hilda: twin-set, pearls, sensible shoes. Certainly not a clitoral-stimulator type. Now, if she’d been called Candice that might b
e different. What about Katie? Did that fit more with Hilda or did I sit in the Candice camp? Maybe it was more of an age thing? No one would think it odd if a twenty-year-old Hilda went into Ann Summers, although I couldn’t imagine there were many young Hildas out there. But, why shouldn’t older people enjoy themselves? While Jason and I weren’t exactly young at fifty, I could imagine Emily’s expression if she found a sex toy in our room. Eeuww.

  “Why are you grinning?” Jason asked.

  “I’m not.” I looked away, finding myself facing a row of tinned beans.

  We reached the counter with minutes to spare before closing time. The woman sighed as she glanced at the clock on the wall. I felt for her. She looked like it had been a long day but I wouldn’t be the one to tell her that. After I’d weighed the package as she requested, I slid it into the tray.

  “What’s inside this?” the woman asked.

  “Eh?” I turned to Jason but he’d slipped away to sit by the information stand, from where he gave me a little wave.

  “I need to know what’s inside it,” the woman repeated. “You can’t post it otherwise.”

  I sent a silent plea of help to Jason, who smirked from the corner. There’d be no aid from him. My face burned as I wondered what I should call the pink sucking thing other than a sex toy. Behind me someone sniggered.

  “Does it contain batteries?” she asked.

  I couldn’t believe how my cheeks could be this hot and not burst into flame. “Um, I don’t know.”

  “If it contains batteries, you’ll have to open the package and take them out.”

  No way would I be touching that thing. “I remember now.” I gave her an enlightened look. “It’s got a separate charging unit just like a shaver.”

  The woman settled back into her chair, satisfied by my response, even if she didn’t believe it. When Jason cupped his hands and mouthed ‘liar’ at me, I showed him my clenched fist, making sure it was hidden from the woman’s view. The stragglers in the queue didn’t bother to mask their beaming smiles. They’d be feasting out on this story for days to come. When she handed me my change, I stomped out of the shop not waiting for Jason, but I hadn’t got far before I felt his Cheshire cat grin hovering over my shoulder.

  I jerked to a halt outside the book store and jabbed his chest. “Coward! I can’t believe you left me to it.”

  “I’m not stupid,” he said. “Everyone knows they have to ask what’s inside a parcel. Why do you think Shona was so keen for you to take it?”

  “I’m going to kill her,” I said. “Next time she can shove her sex toys where…”

  The man gazing through the book store window swung round, shooting me an odd look.

  “Hello, Mr Anderson,” I said to our guest. “Are you and Mrs Anderson having a nice day?”

  Chapter 7

  Lucy pulled up in a new Fiat, white with black go-faster stripes down the sides. The fan whirred noisily and dead flies littered the bonnet. Maybe the stripes had worked as the trip had taken just over four hours, a record for Lucy, who’d been given the nickname ‘Driving Miss Daisy’ by Emily after she barely reached fifty going down Telegraph Hill.

  Jason and I waited on the driveway while she staged a sit-in, pulling down the sun visor, leaning across to the glove compartment and generally faffing about. Emily had the right idea. She’d gone for a shower, saying she’d be down when Lucy got settled.

  “I guess they haven’t discussed the amount of luggage there is to take back,” Jason said.

  “Obviously not. I have a feeling Emily’s in for a shock when she realises she can only take half her junk.”

  “Less than that.” Jason nodded towards Lucy. From her Tardis boot she dragged a suitcase that could fit a month’s worth of clothes and still have space.

  “Are you moving in?” he called.

  “Very funny, Dad.” She hefted the case onto the driveway. “Give me a hand.”

  “This one or this one?” He held out one hand and then the other which she slapped away, laughing.

  “You’re so silly!”

  I hung back, giving them space. They were so easy together. After a few minutes I went over but, like a teacher walking into a raucous classroom, my entrance killed the laughter and my buried unease resurfaced.

  “Lucy. How lovely to see you!” I even managed to sound like a school teacher.

  Both Jason and I had short-lived first marriages – mine childless – so she’d been just seven when we first met. My memory of that encounter remains hazy – I’d been so nervous – but I’d never forgotten her huge yellow Alice band covering her zigzag parting and her uneven pigtails, which had a strange boss-eyed look when viewed from behind. No doubt the fact she wore the same hairstyle for the next few years aided my recollection.

  “She’s very independent and won’t let anyone touch her hair,” Jason had confided later.

  But at the time she’d clung to her dad’s leg and smiled shyly, showing the huge gravestone teeth all children seem to have at that age. Sadly, Lucy and I hadn’t outgrown the awkward stage. No matter how much I tried, I didn’t feel like a mum to her.

  She air-kissed my cheeks. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m good, thanks. You’re looking well.” She did too. She’d had a tint put on her dark hair so it burnished auburn in the sunlight. Like Jason’s, her eyes were steel grey but they glinted with warmth when she smiled. Even after a stifling journey in the car the tang of fresh perfume wafted around her, which might explain what she was doing in the glove compartment. I handed her the pass. “Here, let your dad take your case while you park. We’ve put you in room seven. It’s a lovely room.”

  She glanced across to Jason, who pointed across the road to the small public car park. “We’ve got someone else coming onto the drive. You’re just over there. Put the pass on your dashboard.”

  While he dragged her case into the guesthouse, I headed over the road, where I loitered by Lucy’s car while she did goodness-knows-what in her glove compartment. When she got out, she seemed surprised to find me there.

  “Sorry, I’d have been quicker if I’d realised you were waiting.”

  I bit back the urge to laugh and say, ‘Oh yeah!’ as I would have done with Emily. Instead, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth fearful of saying something that would crack our eggshell relationship. While Lucy may have taken it as a joke, I couldn’t risk offending her. I’d forgotten how stilted we were together. It wasn’t her. She was a lovely woman. I simply didn’t know what to talk about and, when I did speak, my size fives would land me in it.

  Oh no! I’d done it again. I shuddered. Only days ago, she’d posted a newspaper article on Facebook which revealed that when people say, ‘you’re looking well’, it really means, ‘you’re looking a bit plumper than usual’. Within moments of her arriving today, I’d told her that. But she was looking well. My face burned. I felt for the step-mothers in fairy tales. Maybe they weren’t all that bad and just had foot-in-mouth disease like me.

  In silence we reached the front door of the guesthouse. As I turned the key in the lock, I said, “You’re not looking well fat, you’re looking well lovely.”

  She smiled, probably thinking I’d gone mad. And she’d be right. My awkwardness had shifted up a gear, with no reverse. The stairs creaked and to my relief Jason padded down.

  “I’ll put the kettle on,” I said. It gave me something to do and gave them a chance to talk in peace too.

  ♦

  When Shona and Kim had mentioned the possibility of doing a little goodbye party for Emily – just before they sent me off to the post office with that sex toy – I hadn’t thought they’d go through with it. But, true to their word, she and Kim had arranged a gathering that mainly comprised fellow B&Bers but also one or two of Emily’s bemused ex-colleagues.

  “Aren’t you worried about upsetting your guests?” I’d asked but she’d shrugged.

  “We’ve got regulars in. They can always join us.”

&nbs
p; As the night moved on, I learned two things. First, never to be alone with Raymond, the owner of Waves B&B, and his octopus hands. I’d wriggled free to take refuge by Jason in the kitchen where he stood discussing cars with Mike, but there was only so much talk about horse power I could take. Even dancing with Raymond started to seem the more attractive option.

  Second, that Emily was a loving drunk. Throughout the evening, she’d come – when I’d escaped from Raymond – to give me a cuddle. She clung to me now, her breath ripe with the smell of vodka and hot against my neck.

  “I love you, Mum. I’m going to miss you soooo much.”

  “Me too, darling,” I said for the umpteenth time. But each no less heartfelt. I’d miss her grumpiness, especially in the morning; her laughter and dry sense of humour; her singing in the shower, although not having her screeching her latest favourite song would be a blessing when guests were in the room above. I’d miss her. Full stop.

  Shona waved us over to join her and Lucy in the Cha-Cha Slide with some of the other B&Bers. Strange how the girls loved joining in with the corny songs and dances. They were great at them too, while I couldn’t help but mess up the moves, either facing the wrong way or banging into someone as I slid to the right instead of the left. When Raymond crept back into the group and slowly angled his way towards me, I took my cue to disappear for a breather, first asking Shona to make sure he didn’t pester Emily or Lucy.

  The night air cooled my flushed cheeks. I hid in the shadows by the house, rather than within the cone of light from the street lamp, in case Raymond appeared. Above, the moon peaked from a patch of glowing cloud, brightening the inky sky. I sat fascinated – helped by the half bottle of Malbec I’d polished off – as a cloud slowly drifted away, revealing the moon’s grinning face. I smiled back.

  Behind me the front door opened and a chanted ‘Hey Macarena’ flooded into the night, muted again as the door banged shut. Lucy tottered out, unsteady on her feet. Not hearing me call ‘Hi’, she slumped against the wall on the other side of the driveway where she rifled through her bag.