Page 21 of A Letter to the Last House Before the Sea

Without another word, Lettie started pulling the trolley towards the cottage Florence had pointed out. Standing near the top of the hill, overlooking the ocean, it was whitewashed with a thatched roof and small latticed windows. Vibrant flowers were growing in her garden. And roses were trained around the front door. The cottage looked idyllic, and Lettie suddenly longed to live somewhere as historic and beautiful. It must be filled with the ghosts of the past.

Florence followed her through the garden gate, still limping slightly, and made her way to the door. She fumbled in the pocket of her cotton jacket for the key and, after opening the door, stepped into a dark, narrow hallway.

‘You can leave it there,’ she said, when Lettie lifted the trolley over the doorstep.

‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to take your shopping into the kitchen for you?’

‘I’m most definitely sure.’

‘What happened to the trolley?’

‘A wheel came off halfway up the hill and rolled away.’

‘Would you like me to try and find it?’

Florence shook her head. ‘There’s no need to trouble yourself, Miss Starcross. I think it’s time to buy myself another one.’

‘I saw your grandson going out on the lifeboat,’ said Lettie, trying to make polite conversation.

Florence frowned. ‘Putting his life at risk for someone who doesn’t respect the sea, no doubt. I won’t rest ’til he’s back.’

‘I’m sure he’ll be fine,’ said Lettie, regretting her words as soon as they were uttered.

How could she possibly be sure? The sea was unpredictable and who knew what was lurking beneath the surface? An image of Corey floating in dark water, waves washing over his face, pushed its way into her mind and made her throat tighten.

‘I didn’t mean to upset you on Saturday, at the castle,’ she said quickly, doing her best to push the image away.

Florence stared at her for a moment. ‘You look like her, you know. The same strange-coloured eyes and hair with a mind of its own.’

‘Did you know my great-aunt?’ asked Lettie, self-consciously smoothing down her red curls. It was probably unwise to ask, after Florence’s reaction at the castle. But since Claude had basically told her to get lost, she was running out of options for finding out anything at all.

‘I knew her, all right.’

‘Can I ask how?’

Florence narrowed her eyes. ‘We lived in the same bloody village, of course.’

Lettie gulped. ‘Of course. I just thought you must have been quite a lot younger than Iris.’

‘I was only a child when she left Heaven’s Cove for good. But she knew my brother.’

This could be her last chance and Lettie was determined to grasp it. ‘Would it be possible to speak to him, perhaps, to find out more about Iris?’ she asked gently.

But Florence’s gaze hardened. ‘Cornelius is dead,’ she said abruptly, slamming the door shut in Lettie’s face.