Maddie thought it was the best suggestion she’d heard in a long while as she watched the ever-practical Rachel place a small plastic bag on the table and pull out teabags, biscuits and some milk. She glanced at the French doors leading out to the garden, the weak winter sun highlighting the dust and grime smeared across the panes of glass as she typed out a list of what she needed on her phone.
Rachel handed her a mug. She put her phone in her pocket and took the mug from her. It had been Olive’s favourite – seagulls, flying high above waves. The waves were faded now and the white breakers had blended into the white background of the cup. She could hear Olive whisper: Enjoy life.
What had gone so wrong with Tim? He’d always made the decisions. She’d let him, she supposed, ever since – well, she was his wife. But who she really was she’d forgotten. Maybe she was about to find out. She traced the outline of the gull on her mug with a fingertip.
‘Hey, how long are you going to twiddle that in your hand?’ Rachel laughed, then they both stood in the silent kitchen letting the strangeness surround them.
‘What do you think, then?’ Maddie looked over at Rachel and took a sip of tea.
‘I think it’s great.’
They took their tea through to the front room and, as there was nowhere to sit in the kitchen, both sank down onto the brown corduroy sofa, releasing a whoosh of dust. Maddie looked around at the walls, at the fading woodchip wallpaper and sighed.
As if reading her mind, Rachel piped up: ‘Don’t worry, pet, my Alan can come down and help.’
She leant back on the sofa. ‘I’m a bit nervous. I’ve never been on my own. I don’t know if I can do it.’
‘Of course you can do it!’ Rachel sat up. ‘Infuriatingly capable, beautiful, clever, talented, brilliant person that you are! You don’t need Tim – and certainly not now, with whatever he’s up to. You’ve got this house, you’ve got Ed, you’ve got Taffie—’ she bent down and tickled his chin ‘—and you’ve got yourself, Maddie, that’s the most important part. This is a golden opportunity for a new start. You’ve got skills you probably don’t know you have. People believe in you, Maddie. I believe in you. Don’t feel sorry for yourself. I know you can make a go of this.’
‘Thanks, Rachel,’ sighed Maddie, leaning over to give her a hug. Then she smiled. Because somehow, even though she felt a weight of responsibility for the cottage, it felt right. It was as if she’d been sleepwalking for a long while. Suddenly, she felt awake again. Dusty, mind, but definitely awake and up for the challenge.
32
November had somehow eased itself into early December and Maddie had been slowly getting to grips with parts of the cottage. She had concentrated on a small rockery out the back in the garden before the weather turned, but now it was time to tackle inside. She felt very alone some days. Missing Ed was like a dull ache in her heart. And she missed Olive. Being in the cottage was comforting in a way, but it was also a stark reminder of how precious life was. Perhaps Olive knew that Maddie would need the cottage. Perhaps Olive knew her better than she realised.
The weather had been gradually deteriorating; once or twice she had struggled to take Taffie for a walk till much later. Only when the storm clouds had rolled away and left the beach with that newly washed look had she ventured outside. The odd day had been exceptionally bitter; as the cottage was right on the bay, it was exposed to the full fury of the sea and wind’s wrath. She’d only ever stayed in the summer. It was a different story now. Wind would howl up from the sea and batter her bedroom window.
One day, she’d gone back to bed in the afternoon and pulled the duvet up by her chin, listening to the rain pattering on the window as the wet tears slid down her cheeks. She hadn’t bothered with supper that night, just drifted into a fitful sleep, woken only by Taffie crawling onto her bed, nervous about the wind too, and she welcomed the warmth of his little body next to her.
But usually she tried to keep to a routine – up by 8 a.m., taking Taffie for a walk along the beach,