Page 8 of The Little Cottage by the Cornish Sea

‘Huh? Yes, yes, sorry. I was just… nothing. I got, uhm, some stuff for the cottage at your husband’s. Tulip Cottage, if you know it?’ Emmie nodded is recognition. ‘The place is… completely derelict.’ As was I. The cottage was not the only one needing some TLC.

‘Why don’t I go get those scones and the tea?’ she said gently. I had the feeling she knew I needed a minute to recompose myself.

‘That would be great, thanks, Emmie.’

She smiled and turned to the counter, where a kettle sat under an owl-shaped tea-cosy next to a glass bell full of scones.

I looked down at Felicity, who slept in utter peace, her pink mouth slightly upturned as if she were smiling in her sleep.

She was a beautiful, happy baby. She was also obviously well-loved.

My baby would be just as loved. I would love her with all my heart and more.

She would never suffer for anything, and the lack of a father was never going to be a problem.

Because I would be Mummy and Daddy to her, just like my father had been to me.

I’d do my very damned best to make sure she felt loved every single day of her beautiful life.

‘She positively loves you,’ Emmie whispered as she put a steaming cup on the low table before me, well away from Felicity. Next to it, she put a plate heaped with scones, and two pots: one with jam and one with cream.

‘You think?’ I whispered back.

‘Absolutely. She never settles so quickly. You must have some magic secret.’

I grinned. ‘Hardly.’

‘Are you planning on having children? Sorry, is that too forward? My friends say I’m too nosey. Well, not all of them. Rosie is just like me. We’re the softies of the group.’

‘Group?’

‘People call us The Coastal Girls. It’s all very funny. How long are you staying? Oh, you have to meet them.’

I debated. The more I laid low, the better. I’d come here to disappear, not to make friends. Yet, besides Tamsin, I had no friends, and I couldn’t risk calling her again so soon, no matter how much I longed to tell her all about the baby, and the new life I was about to create for myself.

‘I’m… not sure yet.’

‘But you’re staying at Tulip Cottage for now?’

I sighed. ‘I am. The owner wants to do some renovation work to make it more comfortable. It is a little derelict, but I don’t mind.’

‘Hm, sounds like Mrs Nankivell is at it again.’

‘Yes, that’s right, it’s a Mrs Nankivell; how did you know?’

Emmie giggled. ‘The poor woman, she has a heart as big as Cornwall, but she glosses over the practicalities sometimes. Her grandson is the local GP. Why don’t you talk to him?’

‘I have. He’s the one who offered to do the work.’

‘That’s Robert, all right. He’s an absolute sweetheart.’

That was not how I’d have described him exactly, but I could see that he had a good heart.

‘Okay, Little Miss Moon, let Sophie drink her tea now…’

I smiled. ‘I like that: Little Miss Moon…’

‘Let’s hope she likes it too. It’s her surname. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to meet my friends, yes?’

This was not how it was supposed to go. I needed to lie low, not make friends left, right and centre. If everyone was so polite and kind, how was I supposed to hide away?

‘Can I let you know tomorrow? I’ve got some stuff to do.’

‘Of course. I’ll be headed over anyway, so be here at midday if you want to come. Now drink up!’

We spent another hour together and I had to admit that I enjoyed her company immensely. She was happy and considerate. If I didn’t have to keep myself to myself, I could see us becoming close. Such a shame. But that was the price I had to pay in order to keep Baby and myself safe.

On my way back to Tulip cottage, I decided to take the long way home.

I chose a country lane that split a huge, green field in half. It was delightful, bordered by pine trees and bushes that dotted the gently rolling hills. It was like the illustrations that you see in children’s storybooks. It was a dip into happiness.

A loud roar from behind me made me jump to the side of the muddy path as an oncoming car honked for me to get out of the way, splashing me from head to toe in mud.

I didn’t see the driver, but I did recognise Wolf, that motley, patchwork dog, sitting in the back seat with his head out the window and his tongue hanging out a mile with what I could almost swear was a smile. Rude Bloke strikes again…

Once inside the cottage, I dropped my bags and darted up the stairs to change out of my muddy clothes and rinse the streaks of mud from my skin with one of my newly purchased towels.

If I ever came face to face with that piece of work, I’d tell him a thing or two, I would.

I knew he’d seen me – did he think to even slow down?

Or, realising he’d soaked me from head to toe, had he stopped to apologise?

Not even remotely. Really, what shameful behaviour.

Now warm and dry, I rushed back down the stairs, eager to splay out the rest of my brand-new purchases.

Like a little girl with a new set of dolls, I divided everything based on the rooms they needed to go to and dashed back up the stairs with my towels, loo paper and sheets.

The blue towels looked pretty against the glass towel railings and hooks.

Maybe I could get a few beachy items in, like some driftwood or a bottle filled with sand and maybe some shells?

Will had said it was too cheesy when I’d bought some beach-themed items at my home. But now, I didn’t need his approval.

With my new sheets, I made my bed and plumped up the pillows. I’d need a new mattress but for now, it would have to do. I was so pleased with the day’s progress in my new home that I did a little victory lap to admire my work.

Slowly, slowly, the little bird builds its nest.