Page 17 of Secrets at the Last House Before the Sea

‘Belinda. She said she knows a man who knows a man—’

‘—who works for Charles Epping?’

‘That’s it. Apparently, he overheard Epping talking about it on the phone and saying the house would be demolished. But please don’t upset yourself because he might be wrong.’

Rosie nodded, but only to make Jerry feel better about being the bearer of bad news.

Belinda’s source had been spot on about Driftwood House belonging to the Eppings so chances were he was right about their hotel plan. It made sense – a small boutique hotel overlooking the ocean would be a huge tourist attraction. Guests would pay good money to wake up to that view every morning, and she’d even suggested to her mum a few times that Driftwood would make a fabulous guesthouse.

‘Anyway, enough of the Eppings and their expanding property empire,’ said Jerry, stepping to one side as a car trundled along the lane and turned right towards Exeter. ‘Are you heading for Driftwood House now?’

‘Not yet. I thought I’d walk to Sorrell Head first.’

‘Perfect morning for it.’ Jerry smiled. ‘And when will you go back to Spain?’

‘Soon. I haven’t booked a flight yet.’

‘Well, Rosie, it was very good to properly meet you after all this time. Your mum spoke about you often. She was very proud of you.’

‘Thanks,’ gulped Rosie, desperate for lovely, kind Jerry to stop talking. She needed to think through what she’d just found out. Her mind was filled with images of a wrecking ball pounding Driftwood House to dust.

Jerry frowned. ‘I am sorry to give you such sad news about what might happen to the house, when you’re still mourning your mother.’

‘It’s fine,’ Rosie assured him. ‘At the end of the day, Driftwood House is just bricks and mortar. That’s all.’

Did she sound convincing? Presumably so, because Jerry’s face relaxed into an expression of relief, similar to Liam’s in the churchyard when she’d told him she was going.

Rosie stood for a moment, watching Jerry wander off towards the village, her mind whirling with emotion.

The thought of Driftwood House, the only proper home she’d ever known, being knocked down, stone by stone, was almost too much to bear. First, her mother gone and next, her mother’s beloved home. The Eppings would build their hotel, time would move on, and one day soon it would be as if Sofia Merchant had never existed at all.