The Sunflower Cottage Breakfast Club. Lynsey James
be in the area anyway,’ said Paul, ‘so it doesn’t make sense to send two people when I can just send one. Think about it; you’ve missed out on one promotion, but land this place and you’ll be in with a shout for another.’
He raised his eyebrows in a come-on-you-know-you-want-to gesture and slid the piece of paper across to me. It was the particulars for Sunflower Cottage. From what I could tell, it was one of those little seaside B&Bs that relied on its flock of regulars rather than passing trade. Attached to the particulars was a blurry picture of the exterior. No pictures of the rooms had been included; I imagined it being stuck in a time warp. It was probably all moth-eaten carpets and net curtains.
‘Why do we want this?’ I asked, screwing my nose up in confusion and giving Paul back the particulars. ‘We aim at the high-end luxury market; this looks more like a retirement home!’
Paul gave a chuckle that sounded vaguely nervous and smiled. ‘Going for the grey pound, I think the boss said! Big market these days, apparently. So what do you say? I’ll grant your annual leave request now if you agree to get this in our portfolio.’
I picked up the particulars again, deep in thought. ‘Go on then. How hard can it be to land one little bed and breakfast?’
Paul gave a faint grin and looked up at me. ‘Oh, you have no idea.’
*
My trip to Luna Bay was booked and confirmed later that day; I’d be leaving the following morning for a month. Trips to potential clients didn’t usually last that long, but Paul had said the owner was ‘particularly resistant’ so I’d probably need more time to close the deal. Frankie put on her usual theatrics and said I couldn’t possibly leave because there would be nobody to help her fix her terrible life choices.
‘I’ll miss ya terribly, honey, I do declare!’ she’d said while pretending to faint like a Southern belle.
She wasn’t the only one who had an opinion on my leaving. My mum had an absolute meltdown when she heard the news and demanded a last-minute ‘inspirational pep talk’. Given that the last one had ended with me finding out I had a long-lost secret dad, I was more than a little worried when she turned up at my flat later that night.
‘Are you sure you want to have that wall painted mauve?’ she asked as she stepped into the living room. ‘This isn’t the biggest flat in the world; you can’t afford to use dark colours in here. Makes the space feel small and cramped.’
‘It’s fine as it is. What’s tonight’s pep talk about, anyway? Let me guess: we’re going to have a Princess Diaries moment where you tell me I’m actually the heir to the throne of a country I haven’t heard of.’ I chucked a blouse into my suitcase and turned to face her, arms folded and a wry smile on my face.
‘Nice,’ she snapped. ‘Very bloody helpful, Emily.’
‘Oh come on, I was kidding!’
She stormed over to the sofa and shot me a dark sideways glance. ‘I know you think this daft crusade to Luna Bay is going to give you all the answers you want, but it won’t. Derek won’t take kindly to you disrupting his perfect life there and you’ll be no further forward. The letters stopped a few years ago, so he couldn’t even be bothered keeping them up any longer. Why don’t you just stay here and get on with things? You’ll be much happier that way.’
I heaved a sigh and joined her on the sofa. ‘I know you want to protect me, but I’m twenty-five. I’d really like to meet him, Mum; I want to find out more about him, not just base my opinion on some letters. He might tell me to sod off and, if he does, that’s fine. But I still want to try. I’m not trying to replace you or Dad; I just want to see what Derek’s like, that’s all. So… Do you have an address or anything for him?’
I could see her face soften, but her lips remained pursed. ‘Like I said, I haven’t heard from him for a few years. He might’ve moved away for all I know, although I doubt it. He loved Luna Bay when I knew him. All I can tell you is that he and his wife, Diane, had a café by the sea called the Moonlight Café. Maybe you could start there.’
She snuck a glance round at me, but her eyes quickly darted away when I looked back at her. That was her subtle way of trying to communicate with me when she was angry.
‘Thanks, I appreciate it.’ I tried for a smile, but it wasn’t reciprocated. ‘I mean it, by the way; nobody will ever replace you and Dad. Not now, not ever, and especially not my long-lost biological dad. God, it sounds like a bad soap-opera plot when I say it like that!’
Mum got up and tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. ‘I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to convince you not to go?’
I shook my head. ‘Afraid not. Plus, it’s a working holiday now as well; Paul had the idea to get me to close a deal on a B&B while I’m there. Some place called Sunflower Cottage.’
A wistful smile crossed her face. ‘Oh yeah, I remember Sunflower Cottage. It was a gorgeous little place, right by the sea…’ She drifted off for a moment, lost in some dreamy reverie. ‘Anyway, be safe while you’re there and don’t run off with any surfer boys! And phone me when you’re there! Oh, and try to wear something a bit more flattering, darling.’
She gave me a quick kiss, mumbled some excuses and headed for the door. As I went back to my packing, I thought about the task that lay in front of me. I had to close a deal on a seaside B&B with a ‘particularly resistant’ owner, find out about my biological dad and not run off with any surfers in the process.
No pressure then.
They say bad things come in threes.
During my first few minutes in Luna Bay, I discovered just how true this was. First of all, my little car, Cilla the Clio, finally decided she’d had enough on the narrow country road leading to the village. I had to park by the side of the road as best I could, haul my suitcases out of the boot and walk the rest of the way on foot. Not an easy task when you’re wearing a pair of four-inch heels that keep getting stuck in the churned-up mud.
‘Fuck!’ I felt my heel sink into the mud for what felt like the millionth time and tried to yank it free.
My shoe dislodged, but I’d used too much force to free myself and ended up toppling over onto my front, sending my suitcase flying. I spat dirt out of my mouth and let out a loud, piercing scream that would’ve put banshees to shame. I hauled myself to my feet and stared down at my ruined suit. It was caked in dirt and the trousers were torn, revealing a bleeding cut on my knee. I fished my phone out of my handbag to call a taxi.
No service. Lovely.
‘Well, that’s just fucking perfect,’ I said to my silent surroundings. ‘Well done, Emily; this is what not listening to your mum gets you.’
I carried on walking until a bunch of whitewashed buildings came into view. At least I hadn’t managed to get myself lost. As I dragged my suitcase along the bumpy, uneven pavement, I’d never felt so far away from Glasgow. All the elements that made up my life there felt like they were slowly slipping away: the bittersweet tang of freshly brewed Americano from my favourite coffee place, the trips to A Play, A Pie and A Pint at Oran Mor with Frankie, the vibrant nightlife I loved to be a part of… Now I was stuck in the arse-end of nowhere because one little revelation had turned my world upside down.
I was so busy feeling sorry for myself and brooding over what I was missing that I didn’t see someone come out of a nearby pub, walking straight across my path. I looked up just in time to clock the terrified expression on his face as we collided, spilling freezing cold liquid over the both of us.
‘Are you blind or something?!’
‘Me?! You were the one who came out of nowhere!’
The figure straightened himself up to his full height and I found