Spring at Lavender Bay. Sarah Bennett
for, and gave it a rueful sniff. ‘So, I get why I’m all alone apart from the smell of fried fish, but what’s up with you two that we’re hanging out on this fine Friday night?’
‘Work,’ Beth muttered, digging into her takeaway.
‘Age of Myths and bloody Legends.’ Eliza said.
‘Ah.’ Libby nodded in quiet sympathy. She knew enough about them both that nothing else was needed. People who didn’t know them well found their continuing friendship odd. Those bonds formed in the classroom through proximity and necessity often stretched to breaking point once they moved beyond the daily routine. Beth and Eliza had left their home town of Lavender Bay, whilst Libby stayed at home to help her father after the untimely death of her mum to cancer when Libby had been just fourteen.
They made a good trio—studious Beth, keeping her head down and out of trouble; warm, steady Eliza who preferred a book or working on a craft project to almost anything else; and snarky Libby with her black-painted nails and penchant for depressing music. She’d taken immense pride in being Lavender Bay’s only goth, but both Beth and Eliza had seen beyond the shield of baggy jumpers and too-much eyeliner to the generous heart beneath it. Though it might be difficult to tell from the hard face she turned to the world, Libby was the most sensitive of them all.
A sound off-screen made Libby turn around. She glanced back quickly at the screen. ‘Hold on, Dad wants something.’ Beth took the opportunity to finish off her takeaway whilst they waited for her.
Pushing the heavy purple-shaded fringe out of her red-rimmed eyes, Libby stared into the camera in a way that it made it feel like she was looking directly at Beth. ‘Oh, Beth love. I’ve got some bad news, I’m afraid.’
A sense of dread sent a shiver up her spine and Beth took another quick mouthful of wine. ‘What’s up, not your dad?’
Her friend shook her head. ‘No. He’s fine. Miserable as ever, grumpy old git.’ There was no hiding the affection in her voice. Mick Stone was a gruff, some would say sullen, bear of a man, but he loved his girl with a fierce, protective heart. ‘It’s about Eleanor. She had a funny turn this evening as she was closing up the emporium, and by the time the ambulance arrived she’d gone. Massive heart attack according to what Dad’s just been told. I’m so sorry, Beth.’ Streaks of black eyeliner tracked down Libby’s cheeks as the tears started to flow.
The glass slipped from Beth’s limp fingers, spilling the last third of her wine across her knees and onto the quilt. ‘But … I only spoke to her last week and she sounded fine. Said she was a bit tired, but had been onto the school about getting a new Saturday girl in to help her. It can’t be …
‘Oh, Beth.’ If Eliza said any more, Beth didn’t hear it as she closed her eyes against the physical pain of realisation. Eleanor Bishop had been a fixture in her life for so long, Beth had believed her invincible. From the first wonder-filled visits she’d made as a little girl to the sprawling shop Eleanor ran on the promenade, to the firm and abiding friendship when she’d taken Beth on as her Saturday girl. The bright-eyed spinster had come to mean the world to her. All those years of acting as a sounding board when Beth was having problems at home, dispensing advice without judgement, encouraging her to spread her wings and fly, letting Beth know she always had a place to return to it. A home.
If she’d only known, if she’d only had some kind of warning, she would have made sure Eleanor understood how much she meant to her, how grateful she was for her love and friendship. Now though, it was too late. She’d never hear Eleanor’s raucous, inelegant laugh ringing around the emporium as she made a joke to one of her customers or passed comment on the latest shenanigans of the band of busybodies who made up the Lavender Bay Improvement Society.
The unpleasant dampness of her pyjama trouser leg finally registered, and Beth righted the glass with trembling fingers. Through the haze of tears obscuring her vision, she saw the worried, tear-stained faces of her friends staring back at her from the computer screen. ‘I’m all right,’ she whispered, knowing they would hear the lie in her voice if she spoke any louder. ‘Poor Eleanor.’
Libby scrubbed the cuff of her shirt beneath one of her eyes. ‘I don’t think she suffered, at least. Dad reckoned she was gone before she would have known anything about it. At least there’s that.’ Her voice trailed off and then she shook her head angrily. ‘What a load of bollocks. Why do we say such stupid things at times like this?’ Noisy sobs followed her outburst and Beth ached at the distance between them.
Eliza pressed her fingers to the screen, as though she could somehow reach through and offer comfort. ‘Don’t cry, darling, I can’t bear it.’ She addressed her next words to Beth. ‘What are you going to do about the arrangements? I’m sure Mum and Dad will be happy to host the wake. Eleanor doesn’t have any other family, does she?’
Eliza was right. Eleanor had been an only child, never married and apart from some distant cousins she’d mentioned whose parents had emigrated to Australia somewhere under the old Ten Pound Poms scheme, there was no one. Which meant one thing—it would be up to Beth to make sure her beloved friend had a decent send-off. She sucked in a breath as she shoved her sorrow down as deep as she could manage. There would be time to deal with that later. ‘I’ll sort it out. I don’t think it can be Monday as I’ll have to straighten up a few things at work, but I’ll be down on the first train on Tuesday morning. Can you let your dad know, Libs? See if he’ll have a word with Mr Bradshaw for me.’ There was only one funeral director in town so they were bound to be dealing with the arrangements.
Libby sniffled then nodded as she too straightened her shoulders. ‘I’ll give Doc Williams a call as well and then we’ll track down whoever’s got the keys for the emporium. Make sure it’s properly locked up until you get here. You won’t be doing this alone, Beth. We’ll sort it out together.’
‘Yes, we will,’ Eliza added. ‘I’ve got some leave accrued at work and Martin can look after himself for a few days. I’ll call Mum and ask her to get my room ready. If there’s not a spare available at the pub, you can bunk in with me for a couple of days.’ The Siren had guest rooms as well as accommodation for the family, and although the bay would be quiet this time of year, they were one of the few places to offer rooms year-round so they got some passing trade from visiting businessmen and families of local people who didn’t have room to accommodate their own guests. Eliza paused, then added softly. ‘If you’d rather stay at the emporium, I’ll sleep over with you.’
The thought of being in the flat above the shop without Eleanor’s bright presence was something Beth couldn’t bear to contemplate. She shook her head. ‘No, I think with you would be best.’
‘Of course, darling. Whatever you need.’ Eliza’s face crumpled. ‘Oh, Beth, I’m so sorry.’
Beth nodded, but couldn’t speak to acknowledge the love and sympathy in those words. If she gave in, she’d never get through the next couple of days. She stared down at the papers she’d set aside until the lump in her throat subsided. Darren would never give her the time off unless she got that bloody report finished. ‘Look, I’d better go. I’ve got an urgent project to sort out for Monday.’
‘Message me if you need anything, promise me?’ Eliza raised her fingers to her lips and blew a kiss.
Beth nodded. ‘Promise.’
‘Me too. Love you both, and I’m sorry to be the bearer of such awful news.’ Libby gave them both a little wave. ‘I know it’s terrible, but I’m so looking forward to seeing you both even under such awful circumstances. It’s been too long.’
They signed off with a quick round of goodbyes, and the screen went dark in front of Beth. The greasy smell from her plate churned her stomach and she gathered it up, together with her glass and the bottle of wine. Trudging down to the kitchen, she thought about what Libby had said. She was right, it had been too long since the three of them had been together. They’d been drifting apart, not consciously, but life had pulled them in different directions. No more though, not if Beth could help it.
Now that Eleanor