Coming Home to Heritage Cove Read online

  ‘Whose is it?’ Interest piqued, Harvey wanted to know the story behind the dress. There had to be one, didn’t there?

  ‘I said put it away.’ Barney shut his eyes again. No other explanation offered, just a tone that matched the one Harvey had heard as a young boy if he did something naughty – like the time he and Melissa had started a small fire near the barn. Harvey had wanted to toast marshmallows on the end of a stick for her but when Barney found the two of them he went mad. They were only teens, he’d said, the whole barn could’ve gone up, and it was the same voice now, telling Harvey to stop probing.

  Harvey put the dress back onto the rail. ‘I’ll leave you to rest then…do that table.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Barney’s eyes were already shut; he was either drifting off or determined not to answer any questions.

  Harvey shut the door to the bedroom quietly behind him and out in the barn he turned the table upside down. He’d already cut to size a piece of wood to replace the corner brace that had split and so it was a simple job to fix it in place with a couple of screws. It was also a quiet job, nowhere near noisy enough to disturb Barney, and he had no need to be concerned about neighbours either when he was working around here – it had been one of the real perks for him and Melissa as kids that they could run riot without any hassle.

  The table finished, he leaned against the side of the barn in the summer sunshine drinking an ice-cold glass of water. This place had always been his escape, somewhere he ran to when his dad was at his worst, where he came when Melissa upped and left leaving him heartbroken. His head could be muddled but coming here helped him to get it straight. The rolling fields beyond gave him a sense of freedom, the row of hardy juniper trees at the other side of the courtyard with an archway in the middle that led through to a small box garden and Barney’s front door had always given him a feeling of security and protection as they lined the connection from the barn to the house that was bordered on one side by plump hedges.

  Harvey went back into the barn and positioned the fixed table against the wall. There were three other tables and he checked them all, because they’d all be used for apples, vessels for liquid, the apple press itself. It was totally ridiculous to think of Barney giving up and instead of harvesting his own fruit, buying it at the shops. He’d always loved to pluck the fruit as it ripened, he did it year after year as soon as the time was right.

  He wondered what Melissa made of all this, he wished he could talk to her. But how could he ask about this when there was so much more to say?

  Harvey looked around the barn. He peered up at the beams that were more secure than they’d been years ago when he and Melissa had climbed up onto them so often, using the hay bales to get enough height before they were told immediately to come down before they broke their necks. They’d lurked up there when the annual summer Wedding Dress Ball took place, they’d watched the sea of white dresses, dark suits, wishing they would be a part of it eventually.

  Ridding himself of his nostalgia, Harvey packed away his tools, closed the doors to the barn and secured them before making his way quietly into the house. There didn’t seem much point in trying to talk to Barney about the recommended exercises to get him on the road to recovery, he was sound asleep, so Harvey left him to it.

  He’d try again later.

  *

  Seeing Barney yesterday had filled Melissa with more joy than she felt possible. But it had filled her with sadness too, disappointment in herself that she hadn’t been strong enough or brave enough to come back sooner. She could only be thankful that she hadn’t left it too late, that he was going to be just fine. She’d be able to return to her life, the job she loved, the man she was engaged to, and know that life in Heritage Cove went on.

  Dinner at The Copper Plough had been far less daunting than Melissa expected. She was used to dining alone anyway, she did it often enough when she needed a break to do her own thing during a stopover for work, and yesterday she’d maintained surprising anonymity with most customers in the pub. It was early, dinner service had only just begun, which meant it was quiet. The owners, Terry and Nola, weren’t around and only two bar staff Melissa didn’t recognise were working a shift. Benjamin was still the chef and, rather than be standoffish with her for not keeping in touch with Barney, which was going to be the reason for others’ hostility, he’d come over the second he saw her.

  ‘You’re back!’ He’d squeezed her into a bear hug. ‘It’s been too long.’

  He had the same long mousy hair, tinged with a bit more grey than last time and tied back into a ponytail, the same cheeky grin he’d had since the day he started at the same school as Melissa. He filled her in on the menu and how he’d changed it for the better. ‘There’s plenty to choose from,’ he said.

  ‘Please don’t tell me the fish curry has been replaced by something else.’

  ‘You were the only one who ever ate it.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not true.’ She looked at the choices on this new and improved menu.

  ‘I can recommend the Moroccan chicken, served with seasonal vegetables and chat potatoes.’

  ‘That sounds a good enough alternative to me.’

  ‘I’ve tried to cater for the more upmarket clientele,’ he grinned. ‘Talking of which, what are you up to nowadays? You look different – grown up, sophisticated.’

  She laughed. ‘You saw me five years ago when I was in my late twenties; I was hardly a kid, I was grown up then.’

  ‘Ah, you were, but you’re different now, I can tell. You’re definitely quieter.’

  ‘I’m worried people will be funny with me, for leaving,’ she confessed.

  ‘Well, I suppose this is Heritage Cove. But I think you’ll find most people won’t be any different to how they were before you left. Seeing you might come as a surprise, but they all know what you went through back then. Stop worrying,’ he smiled. ‘You’re not facing a firing squad.’

  He went off to the kitchen to get back to work and make her meal as well as others and she hoped he was right. She perused more of the menu and found a list of sumptuous-sounding desserts. She wondered if she’d stay in the village long enough to try any of those, or perhaps she’d come here again when she visited Barney in the not-too-distant future.

  Melissa had enjoyed two glasses of wine at the pub, chatted to Benjamin when he grabbed a much-needed break and he’d told her all about the relationship he was still in with his girlfriend, Zoe. He’d briefly touched on the subject of Melissa and Harvey’s once-upon-a-time romance to be jealous of but the vibes she gave off must have warned him because he didn’t delve too deeply into that.

  Now, the day after, leaving the Heritage Inn and heading round the bend to walk along The Street, Melissa stopped to take it all in properly. It wasn’t just Benjamin and Zoe who had stood the test of time. The bakery and the tea rooms were still here on the left-hand side, separated from one another by a wide stone archway that led down to a small car park. The bakery had a beautiful Tudor-style exterior – whitewashed stone façade, deep timber panels and criss-cross glass windows. She wondered if the same dark-wood tables were still inside the tea rooms, the biggest table in the bay window, smaller ones positioned along the wall and in the centre.

  On the opposite side of the road was the blacksmith’s and Melissa could hear sounds echoing from there and wondered, was it Lucy, who she’d met in the lay-by and who was standing in for old Fred, at work? Melissa hadn’t known Fred too well; he’d always nodded a hello but was one of those people who seemed content in his own world with a job he loved. Her eyes drifted to the ice-creamery, which was new and almost hidden behind a copse of trees. The building was nothing like the tea shop or the bakery. It was modern, painted a sea blue with white shutters and a huge ice-cream cone on the outside wall. There was a single picnic bench next to the trees with its cherry-red umbrella just visible.

  On the other side of the track that took you down to the cove came the chapel, which, despite its qu
aint stone exterior and wealth of character, didn’t hold good memories. The last time Melissa had been there had been the day she buried her parents. And that occasion was the one she remembered the most, not Tracy’s wedding, held in the same chapel and grounds, or her children’s christenings. Melissa could still recall delivering her first-ever eulogy, standing up on the pulpit, shaking, faces watching her as she did her best to get the words out. Harvey had been at her side that day. She vaguely remembered it pouring with rain and the roof leaking. Before she left Heritage Cove the roof had been covered in a green sheeting as a temporary fix, crying out to be pulled apart and put back together again, the sheeting flapping in the wind whenever it got a chance and making residents wonder whether it would ever be fixed. It looked fixed now. And the chapel’s grounds were well tended with delicate pink flowers bobbing in the wind in one of the beds.

  Melissa found herself tempted to cross over opposite the bakery and follow the lane next to the chapel, separated from it and the cemetery by a hedge. It was a long time since she’d followed the secret path down to the cove – not that it was really a secret, perhaps secluded was a more appropriate description. The best days weren’t necessarily in the summer, though, but rather the autumn months, when the nights drew in and a thick fog wrapped around you like a big blanket. Melissa loved it then because it would be deserted. Sometimes, if you timed it right, the dense fog would lift when you were sitting on the sands, and while all around you and above was grey and impossible to make out, the wine-glass-shaped bay would appear in front of your eyes, stretching into the distance as though a magician had just revealed it from beneath his cape.

  As Melissa stood there with the sunlight resting on her shoulders she realised she’d forgotten nothing about Heritage Cove. Even five years couldn’t take away the familiarity of this place. Past the tea rooms on this side of the road was the track that led down to Harvey’s place, next would be the candle shop she’d rarely been able to visit without coming out with something new, then on from that was the pub of course. The map of this village was as firmly imprinted in her mind as the inscription on her parents’ headstone in their final resting place.

  In some ways it was as though time had stood still, but she couldn’t do the same and so she walked on, unable to resist sneaking a look through the windows of the bakery to see what was on offer. There were pastries – croissants, what looked like pains au chocolat – two wide wicker baskets held loaves of bread, cardboard labels pushed into plastic holders showing what each of them was. There were marmite loaves, bread with chia seeds, wholemeal sliced, white bloomers. Another display case showed off golden cookies next to one with brightly iced cupcakes.

  She didn’t go inside. She couldn’t put it off forever but, boy, it was tempting when she could hide behind her sunglasses like she was doing now. Barney, like Benjamin, had assured her people had better things to do than berate her for her decisions, but she wasn’t so sure.

  She turned to walk away when the door to the bakery creaked open.

  ‘Melissa?’ A voice halted her before she could move on.

  Melissa stopped, heard the door to the bakery spring shut behind their latest customer and when she turned, Tracy was standing there clutching three baguettes. ‘Tracy, hi.’ Her greeting was met with a frown. ‘Good to see you,’ she tried again.

  Tracy adjusted the baguettes that seemed determined to slip from her grip. ‘Well, I guess we all know what it takes to make you come back then. Barney, in hospital,’ she added at Melissa’s confusion.

  ‘Yes, although he’s home now.’

  ‘Have you seen him?’ Her hair had sprung into those familiar curls of hers and she looked well despite the scowl still in place.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Well, forgive me for doubting you, but you can hardly blame me.’

  Melissa was about to walk away, but instead she smiled at this woman who had been her best friend, who had done nothing but be there for her, and whose defensiveness was surely because she’d been hurt. ‘I’m sorry we lost touch,’ she tried.

  ‘We didn’t lose touch, you lost touch. There’s a difference.’

  ‘You’re right, and I’m sorry.’

  ‘You didn’t even come back for Mum’s funeral.’ Tracy’s voice came out small. ‘I was there for you when it happened to you.’

  Melissa swallowed hard. She felt so ashamed, possibly more ashamed than she was of herself for staying out of Barney’s life for so long. ‘I know you were. I can’t begin to tell you how terrible I feel. My own grief overshadowed everything else. It might sound like a crappy excuse but I couldn’t pull myself together enough to be a help. I can’t take it back, I can only apologise,’ she added with so much regret Tracy’s frown lessened.

  ‘I get why you left, you’d said you were going to, but why cut your ties?’

  ‘I guess it was easier to start over.’

  ‘Heritage Cove never was good enough for you.’

  ‘Now wait a minute, that was never the case.’ She tried to calm herself but her hackles were rising and it wasn’t easy. She tried a different tack. ‘I’m staying at the inn. Your inn. I’m really pleased for you, it must mean a lot to have a business here.’

  ‘It does.’ And there it was, the smile between friends that Melissa had missed more than she’d ever realised. ‘What do you think of the place?’

  ‘It’s wonderful, I have a lovely room with the balcony.’

  ‘It’s our best room.’

  ‘Sandy has turned into a beautiful young lady, I didn’t recognise her at first. She really looks like you too.’

  Tracy put a hand to her hair, the mass of blonde curls that came down to her shoulders. ‘Same wild curls that don’t want to be tamed. She straightens it but in the rain or the humidity, well, it’s not a fair battle.’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose it is.’

  ‘You’re looking well, Melissa.’ Tracy’s grip on her baguettes had lessened slightly, the tension in her shoulders had given way to a more relaxed and open stance. ‘Are you still working with the airline?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Are you with anyone? I know you don’t need to be, I’m just interested.’

  Melissa smiled. ‘I’m with a man called Jay. He’s good to me. We’re pretty serious.’

  ‘So he’s the one?’

  ‘Yeah.’ She wasn’t going to mention the engagement to anyone, not without a ring – it didn’t feel real quite yet.

  ‘I was angry you didn’t stay in touch,’ Tracy said, ‘and that you never came back when I needed you, but I also want good things for you.’ When Melissa’s gaze drifted to the ground she added, ‘You know, Barney used to ask me every time I saw him whether I had any news.’

  Her heart sank. ‘I never realised.’

  ‘You were, and still are, like a daughter to him. Please tell me that now you’re in touch, you won’t leave it so long next time.’

  ‘I won’t, not ever. His fall scared me, I realised how I’d feel if I left it too late.’

  ‘You’d never forgive yourself.’

  Melissa nodded in agreement. She most definitely would not.

  ‘How’s Harvey coping?’

  ‘I wondered how long it would take you to mention his name.’

  ‘He came to see me, desperate for your contact details that he’d got rid of. I don’t suppose he realised he might ever need them again. That day, I’d never seen such a look of fear in his eyes, not even when…well, you know.’

  She did know. Harvey had a past, a family history that most people around here were well aware of. He’d run scared from his father on more than one occasion, been known to take solace at the barn mostly but sometimes the bakery, the Heritage Inn, the tea rooms. ‘Thank you for passing it on.’

  ‘I never thought you’d move on from Harvey.’

  ‘People change, I guess.’

  Tracy smiled kindly. ‘How long are you here for?’

  ‘I’m booked in for three we
eks, you haven’t checked the booking?’

  ‘I don’t always get around to looking at names. Blame my efficient daughter.’

  ‘She seems to have taken to it well.’

  That seemed to please Tracy. ‘She has, Giles too. As a matter of fact, he’s been managing the place for me today so I could get a few things done, have a little break. I’ll be back in this afternoon so you’ll see me around.’

  ‘How is Giles?’

  ‘He’s well, he’s in charge of the breakfasts at the inn these days and he’s loving it.’

  ‘Then pass my compliments on, the eggs Florentine I had was delicious.’

  ‘Eggs came from Nola’s chickens.’

  ‘I heard that’s where the locals find their supply nowadays.’

  Tracy smiled. ‘Benjamin put Giles on to a cookery school too. I mean, he could cook already, but we needed better than good to put the inn on the map.’

  ‘And business is going well?’

  ‘It is. And we’re looking at more improvements soon – we have the firm Harvey works for drawing up plans to convert the roof space into a penthouse suite.’

  ‘I may have to return,’ Melissa smiled, pulling her sunglasses back down. She’d had enough of squinting beneath the June sunlight.

  ‘I really hope you do.’

  Melissa stepped forward and hugged her friend, at last feeling Tracy relax. ‘Oops, hope I didn’t squash the baguettes.’

  Tracy wiped away a tear. ‘Of course not. So tell me, how’s the patient? I haven’t asked, which is terrible of me.’

  Melissa guessed that seeing her had been shock enough. ‘He’s doing well.’

  ‘I’m heading over tomorrow. Thought I’d give him time to settle back in.’

  ‘He’ll enjoy that.’ Barney’s place was always open house. You never had to give advance warning, it was the way he liked it, and in turn he visited people whenever the whim took him. It had to be hard for him to be stuck at home right now. Although if he improved his attitude and started doing the recommended rehabilitation exercises it might go some way to getting him out again, along The Street, where he’d be in his element soaking up the concern and catching up on all the local gossip.