Page 62 of A Letter to the Last House Before the Sea

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Lettie sat on the floor of her room at Driftwood House, in a patch of sunlight that formed a bright rectangle on the grey carpet.

There was a small armchair in the corner and the bed to sit on, but she needed space. The cuttings and photos Claude had given her were spread across the floor – she’d preferred to immerse herself in the past today, rather than dwell on her last moments with Corey yesterday, which had turned such a lovely afternoon into an awkward mess.

She cast her eye again over the pictures and documents. The way they portrayed life in 1930s and 40s Heaven’s Cove was fascinating, but there was nothing more here about Iris and Cornelius.

Her time would have been more profitably spent looking for a new job.

Lettie groaned and stretched. She’d been sitting in the same position ever since she returned from her morning walk over the cliffs, and her joints were aching. The arrival of an email suddenly pinged on her phone and her breathing quickened when she saw who it was from.

A woman called Esther Kenvale had lived in a small Cheshire village, according to a news snippet Lettie had finally managed to track down online. She was part of a fundraising group for a local hospice. In desperation, rather than hope, Lettie had emailed the group that morning, and now someone had replied. She opened the email and scanned it quickly.

Dear Miss Starcross,

I’m afraid Esther is no longer a member of our group and, in fact, no longer lives in the area. She’s moved back to Devon, where she’s from originally, and I believe she now lives in sheltered housing in Shelton Ford. She moved before I took over the group and I don’t have her address, but I do hope you’re successful in tracing your old friend. Please do give her our regards.

Best wishes,

Lorraine Chamberlain

She’s moved back to Devon, where she’s from originally… It must be her. Claude’s long-lost love. Lettie lifted her face to the skylight and revelled in the warmth of the sun streaming through it. Esther Kenvale had been found – almost. And with so little effort compared to her seemingly hopeless quest when it came to finding out the truth about Iris and Cornelius.

Finding Esther was a quick win-win and that was why she’d taken on the search, she told herself, before admitting it had more to do with Claude’s haunted face when he’d spoken of the woman he’d loved. Plus, it had been another excuse to stay on in Heaven’s Cove. The village seemed to be getting under her skin.

When a quick search online revealed only one sheltered housing complex in Shelton Ford, Lettie sent a quick email to the admin address, asking if she could visit Mrs Kenvale. Shelton Ford was only twenty miles away – there must be a bus – and this wasn’t the kind of conversation to be had with her on the phone.

She’d only just gone back to studying the archive cuttings when there was a tap on her door.

‘Come in.’

Rosie poked her head into the room, a crease between her eyebrows, and glanced at all the papers spread across the floor. ‘Sorry to disturb you but there’s a lady here for you.’

‘She’s asked for me?’

‘That’s right. She’s adamant that she needs to see you right away.’

‘It’s not Florence, is it?’

Rosie frowned. ‘No, are you expecting her?’

‘No, not at all. Sorry. Of course you’d know it was Florence if she turned up. I’ll come right down.’

Lettie followed Rosie down the stairs and into the hall where a woman was standing with her back to them, next to a large brown and tan suitcase. As they got closer, she turned around.

‘Lettie!’ cried Daisy. ‘There you are.’

Lettie’s heart began to hammer. ‘Why are you here? Are Mum and Dad all right?’

‘Of course they are.’

‘What about the kids? And Ed and his family?’

‘Stop panicking. Everyone’s fine.’

‘Then why are you here?’

Daisy flung out her arms. ‘I’ve come to keep you company, Letts. I’m here on a short break! Isn’t that brilliant? I was hoping I could stay here?’