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Mr Greaves leaned on the desk, steepling his fingers in front of his chin. “Is there a reason for all your questions?”
“I don’t actually know,” she said truthfully. “I found the photograph and got intrigued.” She stared at the photo in her hands, annoyed with herself for getting so attached to the idea of tracking down the shop. “It’s daft,” she murmured. “But my parents died shortly after the photo was taken. I only discovered the picture recently and it stirred some memories.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, pushing aside the voice in her head that insisted she was looking for some connection that didn’t exist. “I had a feeling that my parents knew the owner… that they were friends, maybe. I’m not sure, but would it be possible for you to put me in touch with her so I could ask?” Given that he’d seemed not to even want to reveal the gender of the owner, it seemed unlikely he’d hand over their contact details, but she had to at least ask.
Paul’s features softened a little. “I’m sorry. I can’t give out the details of my clients, but I can tell you this – the ownerof the ice cream shop was friendly and well-liked back when she lived here. There’s every chance your memory has mistaken friendly professionalism for a personal connection which didn’t exist. I hardly imagine they would remember holidaymakers who visited the shop twenty years ago.”
Lily sighed. “You’re probably right.”
“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he said, standing to put an end to their meeting.
“Thank you anyway,” she said. “If you speak to the owner, maybe you could mention my name and my parents’ names… just ask if they knew my parents.”
“I really don’t think…”
Clinging to the idea, Lily reached across the desk for the notepad and a pen. “I can jot the names down, and my number.” She scribbled away. “I’ll be on the island until Friday. Over at the Miller’s bed and breakfast. After that, I’ll be back home in Truro.”
She winced at the mention of home. After her uncle had died she’d impulsively returned to her place of birth and rented an apartment. Truro had seemed like a convenient base to conduct her search from. She wasn’t quite convinced her pokey flat with her few belongings was worthy of the title ‘home’, but never mind.
“You can call me anytime,” she told Mr Greaves.
“You’re staying at the Miller’s?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Terrible business yesterday, with the guy on the rocks. You didn’t know him, did you?”
“No. I met him, but I didn’t know him.”
“It’s just awful,” Mr Greaves said. “Poor fella.” He shook his head as he moved to the door. “This could well be the final nail in Rodney’s coffin, too.”
“How do you mean?” Lily asked.
“Sorry.” He let out a humourless laugh. “That was a poor choice of words. I was only thinking that Rodney keeps saying his wife is only one good reason away from carting him off to live on the mainland. The death of a guest seems like all the argument she needs to get her way.”
“I heard she wants to be close to her grandchildren.”
Mr Greaves opened the door and gave a small smile. “I suspect she might get her wish now.”
Chapter Sixteen
It didn’t make sense.That was the thought that Lily kept coming back to as she made her way across the misty island. Why would someone walk away from a business unless it wasn’t doing well? And if it wasn’t doing well, why not sell the place?
Leaving the ice cream shop abandoned not only seemed like a terrible financial decision, but also an unethical one. The owner would have known how an empty building would look in such a beautiful setting. Whoever had complained about it being an eyesore hadn’t been wrong.
She also couldn’t understand the element of secrecy around the owner. What would cause their need for anonymity? That also didn’t make sense because if it was the same owner, someone must remember them from when they lived and worked on the island.
That notion made Lily’s racing thoughts slow down. If the solicitor was unwilling to give her the details of the owner, a better approach was to ask around and find out her name. With her name, Lily could probably track her down herself.
Glancing around, she was surprised to find the B&B in sight.
An eerie silence greeted her when she walked through the front door. Usually there were signs of life, but now it wascompletely still. She hesitated a moment, expecting Mrs Miller to appear and ask if she needed anything, or Mr Miller popping up to say hello.
No one materialised.
The absence of people felt like an invitation to make herself at home. Instead of going straight upstairs, Lily went into the breakfast room and made a beeline for the coffee machine. With a hot mug in her hand, she wandered to the living room.
The patio door was perfectly silent when she slid it open to step out into the back garden. Birdsong filled the damp air as she sat and sipped her coffee. After a few minutes, a brown sparrow came and hopped around her feet before fluttering away again.