Alice Appleton glanced out of Castle Café’s front windows as she assembled a chocolate and strawberry gelato that would rival any from Sicily, despite being made in a small seaside town near Dorset.
Bright sunshine shone onto the café’s patio outside and sparkled on the sea beyond. Alice skimmed the stunning view and her eyes caught on a blue rowing boat bobbing on the water. Her stomach rolled so she looked away, adding a layer of chocolate sprinkles to her scrumptious creation and wiping down the work-surfaces. She polished the fingerprints off the cappuccino machine so it gleamed, before heading out from behind the counter.
Alice had worked in the Castle Café since she moved to the area four months before, and the sunny room still made her smile. The walls had recently been painted a fresh cream and were decorated with an eclectic mixture of art from the local gallery; vases filled with pink geraniums sat on the tables; and Ella Fitzgerald played on a record player perched on the corner of a counter that displayed a mouth-watering selection of cakes.
The café had been built inside the ground floor of one of the castle’s original turrets and a cosy extension provided plenty of space for holidaymakers to sit. The upper levels of Cove Castle housed a restored chapel, a gift shop and the owner’s offices and living quarters, including a large library that tourists came from far and wide to visit. A few years earlier, the previous owner had added a restaurant that opened in the afternoons and evenings for those who wanted more than hot drinks and cakes. On colder days, the locals and tourists headed for the restaurant, but today the sun shone, so the café had filled before midday and the room buzzed with voices.
On her usual mission to serve as many customers in as little time as possible, Alice sped between the tables, heading for the back of the café where the tourist she’d named ‘Sir Crankster’ sat reading a newspaper. She gripped her tray tightly as she dodged a toddler playing with a doll on the floor. As she did so, her foot caught on someone’s handbag and she tripped, hands flailing as the ice cream on her tray leapt off with a flip worthy of an Olympic gymnast.
‘Perfect,’ she groaned as the dessert somersaulted and landed in a nil-point mess on the floor, firing an impressive splat onto Sir Crankster’s jacket. The man rose slowly from the chair and stared at the mess, watching the milky gloop drip to the floor.
‘You idiot!’ he squawked, making everyone in the small café fall silent. Even the flower in the vase on his table seemed to wilt.
‘I’m so sorry.’ Alice went red, and frowned at the floor, which now looked reminiscent of a child’s finger-painting. ‘I tripped.’
She wiped her suddenly damp hands on her white frilly apron, avoiding looking at the crimson-faced man as she knelt to pick up the pieces of broken glass, feeling her entire body flush. Six months ago, she’d have served a dozen customers, balancing a tray of desserts in one hand and pirouetting her way around the tables. These days her grace seemed to have deserted her.
‘Excuses!’ spat the man. ‘This isn’t what I expect from a reputable café, you’d be better suited to a truck stop on the M5.’
‘I… ’ Alice tried to smile as she framed an apology.
‘Don’t you flutter those eyelashes at me young woman, a pretty face isn’t going to get you out of this mess. This jacket is new and you’ve ruined it. I’m going to complain to the management.’
Alice nodded her agreement as her boss, Cath Lacey, appeared from the back with a dustpan and a mop. Cath’s red curls shone in the afternoon sunlight and her permanent smile had moved up a couple of watts.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Cath said, reaching down to pull Alice up from the floor with one hand before placing herself between the two of them. The gesture was sweet but embarrassing. At twenty-eight, Cath was only two years her senior, yet she behaved like her mother.
‘If you come into the kitchen, we’ll sort out your jacket.’ Cath pushed Alice further behind her, handing her the mop and bucket as she manoeuvred the customer efficiently towards the back of the café. Cath wore the same black-and-white uniform as Alice, but her straight back and determined air made her look more like a sergeant major than a café manager.
Alice stifled a sigh. Had it really only been six months since she’d been running the restaurant in London? Now she was here, trying to change her life and making a big mess of it.
‘Alice will clear up while I serve you another ice cream, and you can have a lovely slice of cake on the house to go with it. I’d recommend the Death by Chocolate if you’ve got a sweet tooth. If we don’t get the stains out of your jacket, you can let me know how much we owe you for dry cleaning.’
Their conversation faded and Alice knelt down and mopped the last of the dessert from the oak floor. The hum of conversation from the other customers had resumed but she didn’t look up. Instead she continued to sweep and mop without catching anyone’s eye, but her stomach was in knots.
When she had finished, Alice stood quickly, making a beeline for the kitchen. On her way, she saw one of their regulars, Ted Abbott, who always popped in for a drink and chat after finishing his postal round. He gave Alice a kind grin and mouthed don’t worry love. She nodded, holding her tears at bay and marched into the kitchen, picking up a bag of newly ironed tea towels and tablecloths that Cath had dumped on the floor.
Alice switched on the lights, illuminating the bright yellow walls. A blue Aga sat to the left of the room, next to a butler sink filled with soapy water. Alice took out the plug, then rinsed the sink while the water disappeared. Next, she put the linen away, folding every item carefully.
Alice stopped to rest her head against the cool wood of one of the large oak cabinets that loomed over the kitchen counter. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Even the slightest things could set her off now, things that would never have scratched the surface before.
Exhaling noisily, Alice opened the heavy cupboard door and grimaced at the mess. There were tall cups mixed with teacups, mismatched glasses of varying sizes scattered across the dusty surface, mugs and… was that cutlery? In a cupboard? She began to pull everything out, blowing dust from the china and glass, arranging everything on the kitchen counter below, feeling her pulse slow from a speedy hammer to a soft patter as she worked.
Alice knew she needed to get back to the front, but Cath was there and her colleague had proved herself to be much better with the customers.
Wiping everything down, Alice arranged the glasses, cups and mugs in height order and put the cutlery in a drawer with other members of the same family. There were still three shelves to sort, did she have time? It wouldn’t take long but she’d need a chair to reach them – five foot five didn’t get you far. She hopped onto a chair and leaned an arm on the bottom shelf, reaching up to pull down – oh dear god – herbs and bowls. She shook her head as the shelf shifted under her arm, followed quickly by a sharp crack and an ominous snap. The chair wobbled as she eased back to see what had happened.
‘No, no, no,’ Alice moaned as the cupboard tilted and dropped down the wall, spewing shards of white plaster over the worktops and newly arranged kitchenware. The cupboard jerked and stopped where it was, hanging in mid-air like a drunken trapeze artist. Then, as if part of a synchronised routine, the rest of the contents of the top shelves began to slide forward.
Alice froze as a teapot and three cups tumbled out, crashing onto the worktop, barely missing the glasses she’d organised, scattering across the room in tiny pieces. Instinct alone made her lean forwards and grab the cupboard door, slamming it shut and probably smashing more crockery in her attempt to save it. The chair wobbled and she almost lost her balance again before righting herself. Turning backwards, Alice held the door closed with her head, fighting tears.
What was she doing? She’d never done anything this stupid when she’d been working at the restaurant in London.
‘What’s going on?’ Cath stumbled into the kitchen, almost tripping over the chair Alice was standing on.
‘I… ’ Alice opened her eyes, taking in Cath’s horrified expression. ‘I was reorganising the cupboard.’ Somehow the explanation made her feel worse. ‘I’m an idiot.’
Cath shook her bouncy red curls and smiled. ‘You’re a gem Alice, you’ve just been working too hard since you moved to Castle Cove and spending too much time training for the triathlon you’re doing instead of having fun.’ She tiptoed her way over the broken bits of crockery and put a hand out to hold the cupboard door shut. ‘I knew this would happen eventually, my boyfriend put it up, but he did it in a hurry. Can you see if you can find something to keep it shut, a nail perhaps? Don’t fancy my chances trying to catch this stuff if we open the door, and I know a friendly carpenter we can call on to get it upright again.’
Alice hopped off the chair, looking around at the wonky cupboard balancing against the wall, and the smashed glasses, china and plaster scattered across the worktops and floor. ‘The mess!’ Her heart began to palpitate.
‘Nothing a sweep won’t fix.’ Cath fixed Alice with a stern expression. ‘Don’t go crying over spilt ice creams and cupboards, Alice, there are far worse things on heaven and earth.’
‘I’m not sure I can do this…’
‘You need to stop beating yourself up. That man out there,’ Cath bounced her curls in the direction of the café, ‘has complained every time he’s been here this week. If it’s not the Cuban art hurting his eyes, it’s the temperature of his green tea. He even said the chocolate cake I gave him was too sweet! I ask you, who needs that kind of negativity in their life?’
‘Not me.’ Alice frowned. ‘It was an accident.’
‘Never doubted it, but if he comes in again, perhaps you could try using an extra scoop of ice cream?’ Cath grinned, her green eyes dancing. ‘And I’ll give you a list of all the other customers I’d like you to see off, if you like?’
Alice relaxed as tears pricked her eyes. ‘I’ll clear it all up and replace everything that’s broken.’
Cath pursed her lips, erasing her sunny expression for a couple of seconds until it flashed back again. ‘No chance, I’m actually relieved to find out you do things wrong.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’re so efficient, I was beginning to wonder if you were one of those Stepford women.’ She grinned.
‘Should I be offended?’
Cath laughed. ‘Absolutely not. You’re the most organised colleague anyone could ever want, it’s just intimidating having someone do everything right all the time. I’ve never met anyone as methodical as you.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ Cath squeezed her shoulder. ‘I’m joking Alice, you’re an absolute godsend. With Lily King, my right-hand woman, covering a maternity leave in the castle restaurant, I don’t know what I’d have done without you. Come on, you can help me clear up after we shut. I don’t think anyone will notice a few missing cups, it’s all forgotten.’
She lifted a hand before thumping it back down on the cupboard. ‘Can you find me a nail and hammer before we go back out front please, my hand’s starting to cramp.’
‘Sure.’
‘And shall we finally go for that drink tonight, there’s a quiz at the Anglers and you’ll get to meet more of the locals?’ Cath’s smile was infectious.
‘I can’t, I’m sorry, I’ve still got to swim.’ Alice went to find the small toolbox, swallowing down the huge bubbles of panic.
‘Maybe you’ll have time afterwards?’
‘I might…’ Alice lied. Shuffling through the toolbox, she found a hammer and nail and handed it to her boss.
‘You want to see how the customers are doing?’ Cath asked. ‘I think Ted’s almost ready to pay. He’ll make you feel better, he might even have some gossip to share.’
‘You think he’s been steaming envelopes open again?’ Alice joked as she headed for the café. When she got to the kitchen door Alice’s eyes lingered on the customers catching up over hot drinks and huge slabs of cake. Beyond them the horizon beckoned and the sea glittered in the radiant sunshine.
After her shift, Alice would have to face her biggest fear again – she wasn’t ready, but she wouldn’t give up. Over the past sixteen weeks, she’d been absorbed into the Castle Cove community – that and working in the café had made her feel like she belonged, and despite being at her lowest ebb, they had given her the strength to carry on.
The sea might look calm but Jay O’Donnell knew better than to trust appearances: like women, what you saw wasn’t always what you got. Glancing at his watch – damn, was it already that late? – he steered the lifeboat west, which was apparently the direction the teenagers had been heading in when they’d set off.
If Jay had a pound for every idiot who went to sea in a rowing boat without a freaking lifejacket, he’d be rich enough to buy his own yacht.
He grimaced, checking the sky, squinting his blue eyes at the sultry late-afternoon sunshine. Good job it was the end of May because otherwise it would’ve been dark by now. At least they had a few hours of daylight to search and the weather was good. The coastguard had called them and were looking too, so hopefully it wouldn’t take long to locate the kids, but he still didn’t like it. Surely they should have seen them by now?
Jay’s stomach churned just as his best friend Shaun Wright thumped him on the back. Shaun was a big man, not as tall as Jay, but broader-set and the force made Jay cough.
‘You look happy.’
Jay let out a short hiss between his teeth. ‘Mel’s flight to Dubai.’ He checked his watch again. ‘Takes off in twenty minutes.’
‘And you’re here?’
Jay kept his eyes on the horizon. ‘She wasn’t happy.’
‘Mate.’ Shaun thumped him on the back again, this time harder. ‘You’re not even on call today, you know you’re an idiot?’
Jay shrugged. ‘These kids are only seventeen, God knows what they were thinking.’
‘I imagine hormones got in the way of actual thought.’
‘Yes, but who goes for a nice little row on the sea at four in the afternoon without taking any lifejackets or phones?’
‘I’ve always wanted to ask, were you ever young or did you hatch from an egg middle-aged?’
Jay sighed. ‘Twenty-seven isn’t middle-aged, and since I’ve lived in Castle Cove for most of those years, and have known you for all of them, you know the answer to that.’
‘Have I known you that long?’ Shaun grimaced. ‘Wow I feel old.’ He turned his face to check to the left of them. He had a small bump on his nose from an old rugby injury. That, and his intense green eyes and boyish face, had made him popular with the girls at school. Still did, only now those girls were women.
‘She really gone for good?’ Shaun changed the subject.
‘So she says.’ Jay answered frowning. He’d been seeing Mel for eight months, ever since he’d helped fish her out of Castle Cove one afternoon when she’d been learning to surf after consuming half a bottle of prosecco. They’d had fun; the simple, have lots of sex without too many strings kind, but she’d been studying for a hotel management degree and had landed herself an amazing placement in Dubai, and now she wanted more.
‘Did you even consider joining her?’
Jay swept his eyes across the horizon, at the dark water, and took in a deep breath of salty air. ‘Nope.’
‘Think you’ll wait?’
‘For what?’ Jay sighed. Shaun had always been a romantic, ever since he’d set eyes on his first love in sixth form.
‘Her,’ his friend grunted.
‘I don’t think that would be a good idea for either of us. She asked me if I saw her in my future last night, I just… what does that even mean?’ His eyes flickered over the sea again and he stopped. ‘See that?’ He pointed, then turned to clue in Mark and Jenny, the other lifeboat volunteers in the back of the boat.
‘What?’ Shaun asked.
‘Something red, over there.’
Shaun lifted the binoculars secured around his neck and angled them towards the spot. It might have been thirty seconds before he said, ‘Looks like an oar.’
‘Shit.’ Jay shook his head as he turned the boat and headed towards it. You never knew what you were going to find on a rescue. Like Shaun, he’d been volunteering on the lifeboats for nine years. Shaun had followed in his uncle’s footsteps, while Jay had volunteered at the age of eighteen, after he’d watched a lifeboat launch a rescue.
Despite the years, he’d never come to terms with the unhappy endings. And you never knew, that was the worst of it. Sometimes you’d find someone who had been in the water for three hours and they’d be fine; sometimes a short swim, a few minutes of trouble and a person wouldn’t make it. He tensed his hands and let them go, no point in going there.
‘See anything?’
‘No,’ Mark shouted from behind him.
Shaun was still searching the water. His friend had eagle eyes, the best in the business. If there was a thread of cotton surfing a wave, Shaun would find it.
‘Not yet.’ The tension in his voice matched Jay’s.
Why did he do this to himself? He could be sipping a beer in an airport lounge right now, having a last, slow goodbye kiss with Mel. Trouble is, they both knew he’d rather be here – maybe that had been the problem all along.
‘Yes, maybe.’ Shaun paused, giving the boat time to eat up some distance. They passed by the oar, Jenny picked it up, and they carried on.
‘There’s a shape, I can’t make it out.’ Shaun stopped talking again. Jay squeezed his eyes but still couldn’t see anything, just waves, waves and more waves.
Despite the danger he loved it, loved the rise and fall of sea spray, how the horizontal slice of water at the horizon welded itself to the sky. He loved the feeling he got when they saved a life, getting there just in time. He’d lost count of the number of people they’d rescued, but refused to put a number to those they’d lost.
‘Got it, something, looks like a boat, and it’s blue.’ Shaun’s voice lifted and Jay cranked the speed up a notch. They needed to hurry, sometimes seconds meant the difference between life and death.
‘They’re both lying down.’ Shaun sounded confused. ‘Maybe hurt, I can’t see from here.’
He shifted to the edge and signalled Jenny and Mark to ready themselves. ‘Oh… okay, I see.’ Shaun’s voice tilted and dropped as he peered through the binoculars. ‘I think they might be okay.’ His shoulders relaxed as they pulled closer to the boat and he leaned over the side. ‘I noticed you lost your oar, sir, I’m just wondering what happened to your trousers?’
Ten minutes later a red-faced couple were walking towards their parents, wrapped in towels while the crew watched.
‘They didn’t realise the time apparently, and they didn’t even notice that they’d knocked one of the oars out of the boat.’ Shaun chuckled, slapping Jay on the back. ‘Oh, to be young again.’
‘You’re hardly ancient, and they ought to be billed for wasting our time.’
‘I’ll take that ending over any other.’
Jay ground his teeth. Of course he was pleased, it just rankled how many perfectly healthy people were happy to put themselves in harm’s way for no good reason. He saw it at least twice a week. Death, when it came, was swift and unfair and sometimes you had no choice over it, but for many it could be avoided if they’d just used a bit of sense.
Unfortunately, like the couple in the rowing boat, most people didn’t think about the danger until it was too late.
Alice squeezed her feet into the sand, doing a Mexican wave with her toes. The wetsuit dug into every crease and crevice of her body, moulding itself to her like a second skin. How did people wear these things?
She wriggled her hips to see if the suit would dislodge. But it didn’t help. Warm rain tumbled into her eyes, dripping down her face, and she swiped it with the back of her hand. She already looked like she’d been swimming.
The sun was barely visible but Alice could just make out a shimmer high in the sky behind the clouds. Dawn had well and truly arrived, complete with a flock of diving seagulls that were taking an annoying interest in the bag she’d perched by the edge of the promenade. She watched the waves roll in and out, focusing on the pretty white foam, instead of the heave and sway in her stomach.
The sky looked dark but the sea seemed calm, although it wasn’t always easy to tell what lay beneath the surface.
Alice wouldn’t go far but perhaps she could dip her toes in today? Maybe she’d be able to get up to her knees this time? Just the thought had her stomach somersaulting.
‘Come on,’ she said to herself. She needed to hurry, there weren’t many people about, but if she didn’t get a move on she might attract an audience. Plenty of people walked their dogs along this beach in the mornings.
Biting her lip, she dropped her towel on the sand and walked forwards.
Bump, bump, bump. The few steps it took to get to the edge of the water had her heart accelerating. Her muscles joined in, making her limbs heavy and uncooperative. The waves rolled in and out, over and over and she stood for a few moments watching. Funny how quickly they reshaped the surface of the sand; if only life’s memories could be erased so easily.
Could she dip her toes in the sea this time? Her heart thumped and blood rushed to her ears making her lightheaded as she moved closer. There was a training schedule to stick to for the triathlon and she only had eleven weeks and two days to conquer this, or every change she’d made over the last few months would be pointless.
Ignoring her chattering teeth, Alice forced herself forwards and dipped one toe into the water, absorbing the cold like a punch. Even at the beginning of June, the temperature of the sea barely hit fifteen degrees. But, nothing felt as bad as the first step, at least that’s what her mum always said. She eased the rest of her foot into the water forcing herself to leave it there, and shivered uncontrollably when a wave hit her ankle.
‘C-c-c-cold… ’ Something dark fluttered in her solar plexus making her breathing tight. She hadn’t had breakfast but felt like throwing up, maybe she should sit? But what if a freak wave came and dragged her out, sucked her under the waves and held her down?
She stepped back out of the water. Her foot tingled from the chill but her heartbeat slowe. . .
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