The Little B & B at Cove End

‘You’re listening to your mum?’

Josh made it sound as though Mae listening to her mum was a rare occurrence – rarer than hens’ teeth.

‘I might be,’ Mae said. She opened the car door and tumbled out, but Josh grabbed onto the fabric of her full skirt yanking her back. She heard a ripping sound. ‘Josh, no! Let me go. Not my frock. It’s the last one Dad bought me before …’

‘Well, he’s dead now, isn’t he? He’s not going to know if it’s ripped or not.’

‘Don’t say that!’ Mae yelled. She was a mixture of fear for the situation she was in and anger that Josh, who still had a clump of the material of her frock clasped in a fist, had just said what he had. Besides, there were times when Mae thought she could feel her dad’s presence, smell his aftershave, knew that he was somewhere taking care of her, whatever scrapes she might get into.

‘I jutht have,’ Josh said, theatrically slurring the ‘s’ again, which made Mae certain he was doing it on purpose to frighten her now. ‘Oh, bugger off and let me sleep it off.’

Josh let go then and because Mae had been struggling to get away from him, the sudden release of tension made her fall against the door lock, the fabric of her frock catching in it, before she fell out onto the muddy, stony ground. Her knees hit the ground first and there was a searing pain as something sharp caught her below her left knee. She reached out a finger and found blood.

‘You’ve hurt me!’ she yelled. She wondered if she’d be able to get back up the lane now. ‘Josh …?’

But there was no answer, so lifting the now-ripped skirt of her dress up over her knees, Mae half ran and half hobbled back up the lane, the heels of her shoes skidding this way and that on the rough, stony ground. If she ran really fast, she could be home in under ten minutes.

But would Josh still want to go out with her after this? Did she still want to go out with him?

Chapter Five (#ulink_3ec2842e-08d2-528a-864b-fbb4fd80be38)

‘Where the heck have you been, Mum?’ Mae said. She was standing by the front door, arms folded. ‘Honestly, you tell me not to be late and I wasn’t, but you weren’t here! And what did I find when I got here? The front door wide open, that’s what!’

Mae’s voice was angry, and if Cara wasn’t mistaken, also a little afraid. One side of Mae’s frock was hanging down a bit; the netting petticoat looked as though the stitching might have come undone. And was that a graze on her daughter’s knee?

‘Mae, what’s happened? Your frock and …’

‘I’m fine,’ Mae said. ‘Really. I can’t believe you went out leaving the front door open and unlocked. Where have you been?’

‘To the corner shop,’ Cara said. She held up her bag of provisions to show Mae. ‘I’m sure I shut the door behind me. We’ve got guests. Can you believe that? We could be on our way to making money, Mae. But your knee … Did you fall? I think …’

‘You don’t want to know, Mum,’ Mae interrupted. ‘But what guests?’

‘Pam and Eddie Hine,’ Cara told her. ‘I think you’d better wash that bloody knee off even if you don’t want to tell me how you did it. There’s Savlon in the cabinet in my bathroom. And then I’ll introduce you to our guests. Okay?’

She ought not to be standing here talking to Mae with guests to see to, but she had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that something had gone badly wrong on her date with Josh. Cara made to walk past Mae, but Mae grabbed her arm.

‘Eh?’ she said. ‘What guests? I’ve been in every single room in this house looking for you and there’s no one here.’

‘Oh my God!’ Cara shrugged off Mae’s hand and stumbled into her hallway. She leaned against the newel post at the bottom of the stairs for support. Perhaps Eddie and Pam Hine had changed their minds about stopping and had simply left? Mae had followed her in, so Cara put down her bag of shopping and put an arm around Mae’s shoulders. ‘They said they wanted a full English, but I didn’t have the things for it so I went to shop. I was only gone a few minutes. Fifteen minutes at the most. I made them a pot of tea before I left and I ran all the way there and back. Perhaps they changed their minds?’

And then Cara realised that there had been no car parked outside when she’d left to go to the shop, and they’d had no luggage with them to speak of, only a tartan old-fashioned holdall thing. And she knew, beyond doubt, that if she hadn’t given them the opportunity so recently to steal stuff, she would have found things missing in the morning.

‘Just wait until you see what they’ve done to my room!’ Mae yelled at her, running up the stairs.

Cara followed, her legs feeling like lead and her head pounding.

‘Great idea not, Mum,’ Mae said as Cara walked around the room as if on some sort of automatic pilot picking up Mae’s clothes, which had been strewn all over the bedroom floor in haste by Pam and Eddie Hine – if that was what they were called – as they ransacked it.

Cara felt hot with rage one second and then cold with horror the next, just thinking about the Hines and how they’d touched all Mae’s personal belongings.

‘Your room’s the same, Mum,’ Mae said, as though reading her mind. ‘All the drawers pulled open or tipped out completely on the bed, like they do in TV dramas.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Cara said. ‘I’d give anything for this not to have happened.’

She smoothed and folded Mae’s clothes as carefully as she would had they been freshly laundered, with the scent of lavender fabric conditioner mixed with fresh sea air clinging to them. Although she knew, as she methodically piled Mae’s school blouses and skirts and cardigans, that she would have to wash everything – everything! – because it was as if she could smell the Hines and the badness that was in them to have done such a thing.

‘They looked perfectly respectable. Middle-aged,’ Cara said.

Mae stared angrily at her.

‘Huh!’ Mae said. ‘How stupid was that, to go out and leave strangers in the house?’

‘Very stupid,’ Cara admitted.

But this was a small place. There was hardly ever any crime and what there was only revolved around the pub when a bit of overdrinking got out of hand and a window got smashed, or someone’s wing mirrors got trashed. Burglary just didn’t happen in a place like Larracombe. Until now.

‘It seems I no longer have a laptop,’ Mae said. ‘So perhaps you could tell me how I’m going to do my homework? We have to do it online, you know.’

‘I know,’ Cara said.

She thought fast. Perhaps Rosie would loan her the money? Or buy one in advance of Mae’s birthday as her birthday present? Rosie was a good and generous present-giver to her goddaughter.

‘That was the last thing Dad ever got me,’ Mae said. ‘I was the last in my class to get a laptop. And he only got it for me then because he wanted to use the computer at night when I wanted to use it for homework. And now you’ve let someone steal it.’

So, Dad good, me bad, Cara thought. She knew she would have to tell Mae about Mark’s gambling soon, but now didn’t quite seem to be the time. While the robbery was making Cara feel uncomfortable, it was by no means as bad as Mark dying within hours of her asking him to leave the family home. Would she have the courage to tell Mae that?

‘I’ll get you a new laptop just as soon as I can,’ Cara said. ‘But perhaps Josh could loan you his in the meantime?’

‘That waster,’ Mae sniffed.

It was then that Cara noticed pins down one side of the skirt of Mae’s dress, and that the netting petticoat was more than hanging off. Mae’s knees had stopped bleeding – more bad grazes than deep cuts.

‘What happened tonight, Mae? Your frock? Your knees?’ Cara asked, suddenly cool and calm, her thoughts sharper and more focused. Whatever the Hines might have done was nothing compared to what she thought Josh might have done to Mae to get her into such a state. ‘Between you and Josh?’

‘You can’t ask stuff like that,’ Mae said. ‘Not even because you’re my mother.’

Yes, I bloody can if he’s hurt you, Cara thought. She reached for Mae’s hand.

‘Let’s sit down for a moment, Mae. On your bed. We’ve both had a bit of a shock.’

Much to Cara’s surprise, Mae allowed herself to be led.

‘He drank too much,’ Mae said, still with her hand in Cara’s. ‘I’m certain he’d been drinking before then, although …’

‘Meg Smythson told me he’d bought wine. And that you were with him.’

‘Do you want to know what happened or not?’ Mae said. ‘Not that I think she had any right to tell you anything.’