The Little Kiosk By The Sea: A Perfect Summer Beach Read. Jennifer Bohnet
to anyone that you’ve bumped into me.’
‘Promise. Have to dash, I’m already late,’ Sabine said. ‘See you later.’
‘Look forward to it,’ Harriet said as Sabine waved and ran on down the hill.
SABINE / HARRIET
Late afternoon and Sabine was closing up the kiosk when Owen arrived.
‘Any chance of a coffee? Been checking the moorings and boy is it cold out on the river. I’m in desperate need of a warm drink.’
‘You’ll have to make it yourself and finishing locking up for me,’ Sabine said. ‘Need to get home early tonight.’
‘Doing something special?’
‘Just supper with a friend,’ Sabine said.
‘Anyone I know?’
Sabine shook her head. ‘Sorry, I’ve been sworn to secrecy. See you tomorrow.’
Walking home, Sabine wondered why Harriet had made her promise not to tell anyone she was back in town. She must realise no one would give a tinker’s cuss these days about the past scandal. Too many present-day ones to gossip about. Besides, the town was full of incomers nowadays, who had no idea what had happened thirty years ago.
Harriet, as Sabine had known she would be, was early.
‘Still, “Mrs Can’t Bear to be Late”, then?’ she teased as she led the way up to the studio. Harriet’s obsession with getting to places early and hers for never being on time anywhere, had always been a joke between them.
‘Judging by the way you were running when we met earlier, I bet you still get to places late more often than on time,’ Harriet said.
Sabine laughed. ‘True.’
‘Oh what a lovely room,’ Harriet said as she walked into the studio. ‘Are these paintings yours? Is that what you are into these days?’
Sabine nodded. ‘Spend all my free time painting. Got my first exhibition coming up in May.’
‘Brilliant! What time will Dave be home?’ Harriet asked. ‘I can’t wait to see him again.’
Sabine stilled before saying quietly. ‘Dave died. Fourteen years ago.’
‘Beeny, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.’
‘Amy didn’t tell you?’
‘You weren’t the only one I lost contact with when I left,’ Harriet said quietly. ‘There’s been a thirty-year moratorium on news from here.’
Sabine looked at her. ‘Oh, Tatty. That’s so sad.’
‘No-one’s called me Tatty in all that time,’ Harriet said.
‘Drink. We need a drink,’ Sabine said. ‘I’ll be back in two ticks. Then I’ll attempt to fill you in with things.’
Harriet was looking at the photos pinned to the beams when Sabine returned with wine and some nibbles.
‘You have a son?’ she asked, pointing to one of Sabine cuddling a toddler.
‘Yep that’s Peter. Twenty now.’
‘Ten years younger than Ellie then.’
‘How is Ellie? Can’t believe that cute toddler bridesmaid at my wedding is all grown up.’
‘She’s fine. Trained as a journalist and works for one of the large media companies. She’s not married but lives with Rod.’ Harriet pulled a face. ‘We feel sure she could do better than him but, hey, when did any of us ever choose the partner our parents wanted?’
‘We?’
‘Frank, my husband. He adopted Ellie when she was three. Loves her to bits.’
Harriet took the glass of wine Sabine had poured her. ‘Have you re-married?’
Sabine shook her head. ‘No. Owen keeps asking me but …’ she shrugged.
‘Owen as in Owen Hutchinson?’
‘That’s the one. I work for him these days, managing the booking kiosk on the quay for river trips.’
‘I passed there earlier this morning. Didn’t see you – there were lots of people drinking coffee and eating buns.’
‘Impromptu meeting of the Save the Kiosk group. Council want to do away with it,’ Sabine said. ‘Make us use an office somewhere else on the quay.’ She took a sip of wine. ‘So, catch-up time. Papa died shortly after you left. Johnnie is a widower. His Annie died two years ago. Owen’s never married but regards Peter as his son. Gus is back from making his fortune.’
‘And did he?’ Harriet asked.
‘Seems like it. Something to do with computers that went viral. He picked up a glossy wife too, somewhere along the way. These days he’s running a boat agency selling floating gin palaces. You’ll have to get him to show you around one. I gather his selling technique involves lots of champagne with a trip round the bay,’ Sabine said.
‘Haven’t been on a boat since I left here.’ Harriet picked up a handful of nuts from the dish Sabine had brought up with the wine. ‘I had a nostalgic wander around town yesterday. Things have changed so little, I could almost believe I’d never left.’
The doorbell rang. ‘That’ll be dinner,’ Sabine said. ‘One of the posh restaurants in town does a home delivery service for special occasions. Champagne’s in the fridge downstairs. Can you open it while I get dinner?’
‘Right, fill me in on your life,’ Sabine said as she placed a plate of French charcuterie on the table alongside a basket containing a baguette. The aroma from the garlic sausage, the mushroom pâté and mounds of black and green olives made Harriet realise how hungry she was.
‘How did you survive after you left here? Where did you meet Frank?’ Sabine asked as they began to eat.
‘With difficulty,’ Harriet said, remembering those first despairing months of being on her own with Ellie. ‘I rented a small cottage in the wilds of West Wales. It was pretty bleak. I couldn’t work because of Ellie so we didn’t have a lot to live on. When she went to nursery school I managed to get a part-time job in a little boutique and things became a bit easier.’
‘What about Oscar? Didn’t he contribute?’
Harriet shook her head. ‘He didn’t know where we were, any more than I knew where he was. I didn’t want any contact with him. It was Ellie and me against the world. Until I met Frank, who has loved and looked after us both ever since.’
‘So what are you doing in town now? Is Frank with you? Do I get to meet him?’
‘Not this visit. Maybe if I come down again,’ Harriet paused. ‘Trevor Bagshawe tracked me down and summoned me to a meeting. Amy has apparently left Ellie and me her Swannaton house. That’s classified information, by the way,’ she said. ‘No-one else knows.’
‘Apparently?’
‘There’s a certain clause that I have to agree to before it becomes official.’ Harriet swallowed a large mouthful of her champagne. ‘I’ll give you three guesses what it is.’
‘Amy wants you to … to swim the Dart naked.’
Harriet giggled. ‘No, Beeny, don’t be daft.’
‘OK. You have to … take up hang-gliding. No?’ Sabine topped up both their glasses. ‘I’ve really no idea.’
‘One last guess,’ Harriet said.
‘I know. You have to give up drink. That might be hard but not impossible.’