tight-ringleted chestnut hair and dimples that hadn’t changed a bit after so many years.
Lottie did a double take when she saw Daniel as though she thought she knew this stranger but wasn’t overly sure, and all he kept thinking about was the time he’d defaced the posters she’d carefully drawn and written on and put up around the village when her cat went missing. She was a teenager at the time, must’ve been about thirteen then, and he’d drawn a giant dog on all of the pictures with its jaws open, suggesting the fate the cat had probably succumbed to. He had no idea why he’d even done it – boredom and the need to cause a stir, most probably – but on the way home from school when he’d seen her sobbing at the edge of the road he’d felt terrible. She was distraught and so he’d dumped his bag at home and, still in school uniform, shirt hanging out and not giving a toss that it was pouring with rain and lightning threatened every corner of the cove, he’d scoured the streets and knocked on doors asking people to check their sheds for the missing cat. He’d about given up when he passed the florist and mentioned the search to the woman inside who was busy arranging a giant bouquet. She’d checked the sheds at the back of the shop and, lo and behold, there was the cat. The woman had helped him coax Lottie’s cat into a carrier she had for her own feline, which wasn’t an easy task at all, and Daniel had taken the cat straight over to Lottie’s family home. She’d flung her arms around him on the doorstep as though he’d been a big brother saving the day, not that it had given him an ounce of pride – shame, more like it, for how mean he’d been to her by defacing her posters.
Maybe it was about time he told her the full truth. ‘Lottie,’ he called over from where he was sitting when she removed her gloves and sat at the table Barney and Lois had by now vacated.
‘I’m sorry, do I know you? I do, don’t I?’ She was peering across the tea rooms at him, trying to work it out. ‘I apologise, I can’t place you.’
He smiled, got up and went over to her table. ‘I’m Daniel.’
‘Yes, that’s it. Harvey’s brother,’ she smiled, satisfied the puzzle was solved at long last. ‘Welcome back. It’s been a while. And listen,’ she added, looping her scarf from around her neck and putting it on the back of her chair along with her coat, ‘I know some people judged you when you lived here but, for me, I was never in any doubt you were a good person. You found my cat and brought her home, and that meant the world to me. Not many young lads would’ve done that.’
He took a deep breath. ‘Not many lads would deface a poster either.’
‘What are you on about?’ She thanked Etna when she brought over a latte with a couple of gingernut biscuits on the side.
‘It was me, I drew the picture of the giant dog looking as though it was going to eat your cat.’
Her biscuit didn’t make it all the way to her mouth and she stared back at him in disbelief before she burst out laughing.
‘You’re not angry.’
‘You were quite the artist. I’d forgotten all about that until you reminded me just now.’ She was laughing so much she had tears in her eyes. ‘I remember asking my dad if there was a giant dog in the Cove.’
He managed a laugh himself. ‘Well, for what it’s worth, I’m very sorry. It was mean and I’m not even sure why I did it really.’
Enjoying her biscuit, she was still amused. ‘So, what is all this, Daniel? Are you making amends with everyone now you’re back?’
‘Yep. Apologised to Barney, Etna and now you. Few more to go.’ He pulled the few flyers out from the back pocket of his jeans. ‘This is what I’m doing now, if you’re interested.’
She covered her mouth as she finished the biscuit and then told him, ‘I saw the leaflet this morning in the convenience store – I own the place and run it now – this is great, I’ll be there on opening night for sure. It’s nice to welcome a new business to the Cove.’
‘And Etna and I have spoken about hot beverages,’ he whispered to her